Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
The question caught me completely off guard. It shouldn’t have. This was his home. I glanced around the room at the sofa he’d bought with his Christmas bonus, the pictures I’d found at the thrift store, and the bookcase we’d put together over Easter weekend. I looked over at the kitchen, where Ryan had made Anslee pancakes for the first time, and the table where we’d had our dinners every night, and it hit me.
This wasn’t my home.
It never really had been. It was his, and he’d simply made room for us. And now, the welcoming, loving door was closing. Heat rushed to my face as I answered, “I’m going to need a few days. I’ll have to figure out where we will go.”
Ryan nodded. He didn’t tell me I had to go today, but he didn’t say I could stay either. He simply said, “I’ll be at Tony’s if you need me.”
There was no anger in his voice.
Just pain, and that made my heart ache even more.
He turned and started down the hall as he said, “I’ve gotta grab a few things.”
I stood alone in the living room, listening to drawers open and close, and it felt like my life was suddenly spinning out of control. A few minutes later, Ryan returned with his bag hanging from his shoulder. He went to open the front door, and I called out, “Ryan?”
He paused and turned back to face me. “Yeah?”
“I did love you. Not the way you wanted me to… not the way you deserved, but I did love you.” Tears blurred my vision as I added, “And Anslee loves you, too. That isn’t going to change just because we’re moving out.”
Anguish filled his eyes, and I could tell this was just as hard for him as it was for me, if not more so. But I needed him to know that I didn’t want to lose him. “I hope you’ll always be a part of her life.”
He held my gaze, and for a long, heartbreaking moment, I thought he might say something. I thought he might give me a little hope that our friendship wasn’t over. Instead, he gave me a slight nod, opened the door, and walked out. The click of the lock echoed through the house, hitting me like a slap in the face.
And for the first time since I’d moved in, his house didn’t feel like home anymore. I dropped back on the sofa and pulled the cover back over me, and it wasn’t long before the tears started falling. I wasn’t crying because I’d just lost the love of my life. I was crying because I’d lost my best friend, and that hurt in a way I hadn’t expected.
Ryan had been there through every ear infection, every sleepless night, every bad day at work, and every moment I’d questioned whether I was enough. He’d celebrated my victories and held me up during the hard times.
I’d done the same for him. I was there when his father passed. I held him while he cried and listened to every story he wanted to share. I’d encouraged him to go for that big promotion, and when he got it, I stayed up drinking wine with him until we were sick as dogs. I went to his sister’s wedding with him, went to work parties, and watched all his favorite war movies, even when I hated them.
Because that’s what friends do.
And now, neither of us would have that, and it broke my heart. But the truth was, there was only one man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and it wasn’t him. Ryan deserved someone who would always choose him, and now, maybe he would finally find that.
I thought about the changes coming my way, and while the thought of finding a new place to live was daunting, I knew I wouldn’t be doing it alone. Brayden would be there to help. And that brought a smile to my face.
I could still remember when Cyrus offered him the room above the garage. He hadn’t had it for long and was still trying to make a home of the place, but he was so eager for me to see it. There was an unmistakable spark in his eyes when he motioned me through the door and said, “Come on in.”
The walls weren’t dark brown like the rest of the building. Instead, they were a soft sage, so I asked, “You painted?”
“I did,” he answered proudly. “I used that green color you said you liked. What do you think?”
“I love it.”
I glanced around the small room, and while there wasn’t much to it, he’d made it look warm and inviting. There was a sofa against the back wall with an old quilt draped over the back, and not just any old quilt. It was the one I’d seen at the arts festival several months earlier.