Chapter 22 Sunlight and Sweat
I woke to sunlight spilling through the curtains in golden stripes.
The rich scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen, warm and grounding, pulling me out of sleep.
Margot was already at the table, glasses perched on the end of her nose as she sipped her coffee.
Her silver-streaked hair was swept up into a loose bun that had probably taken her all of thirty seconds to do but still looked elegant.
She was scrolling through her phone with one finger.
I poured myself coffee, the mug warm against my palms, and wandered to the window. The breeze slipped in when I cracked it open—fresh, clean, carrying a hint of cut grass, and then I froze.
Because outside, Ryder was running.
Shirtless.
Sweaty.
Sunlight catching on every line of him like the universe had commissioned an artist just for this moment.
My breath hitched. I could practically feel my pulse skittering, as if my heart had forgotten its rhythm. He looked like something pulled from a dream I would never admit to having.
"You have a bit of drool there," Margot said, her voice maddeningly casual, not even glancing up from her phone.
I snapped my head toward her, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I do not."
She finally looked up, "You do. And honestly? I get it, the man looks like an ad for bad decisions."
"Margot..." I groaned.
She leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling. "He looks like sin went jogging."
"Oh my God."
"I'm serious! He looks like he was sculpted out of poor life choices and coconut oil."
"Margot, please stop." I was half-laughing, half-dying, clutching my coffee like a shield. But she was on a roll now, unstoppable.
" I mean it. He looks like God's apology for every mediocre man on Earth."
"Margot!"
She wagged her finger, laughing. "What? Don't look at me like that. I'm old, not dead. That man looks like he should come with a warning label: 'Do not operate heavy machinery after staring too long.'"
She fanned herself dramatically. "Listen, if I were ten years younger—no, thirty, to save us both some shame—I'd be out there pretending to trip just so he'd catch me. Man looks like the kind of hot that should trigger a Level 5 National Emergency. Evacuate hearts immediately."
"Oh my God," I moaned, but it only made her cackle harder, delighted at my suffering. I pressed the mug to my lips, pretending to sip. "You know you can just... not comment on everything?"
"Meh, where is the fun in that? You know you could just join him."
"Yeah, sure," I said, rolling my eyes and promptly changing the subject.
By the time Ryder came back, I had finished my coffee and was pretending to look very busy at the sink. He was sweaty and out of breath and looked entirely too pleased with himself. I tried to look unaffected, which meant I stood as still as a deer in headlights.
"Morning, Ven" he said, grin easy, voice rough from the run.
I nodded mutely, because apparently words were not available to me at this time, and what's up with this 'Ven'?
I fled upstairs to get ready, leaving Margot smirking at my retreating back.
When I came back downstairs, the kitchen was empty, but a smoothie waited on the counter.
Orange-red, glowing like the first light of sunrise.
I smiled despite myself and lifted the glass. Sweet. Tart. Too good for me to pretend I didn't love it.
I grabbed my phone and texted him:
Why orange-red today?
A few minutes later, his reply buzzed in: It's the color of Helios' chariot at sunrise—you know, the Greek god of the sun who drives it across the sky every morning. Figured you could use a little dawn in your day.
Later that day, a rumor began to ripple through the school: someone had made a massive donation to the science and arts departments.
Anonymous. But I didn't need the whispers to tell me who it was.
Of course I knew. My hands trembled as I dialed his number.
The phone rang, too long, each tone stretching my nerves tighter, until I almost hung up. Then, finally, he answered.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice like someone caught half-asleep. "Sorry... I was working, and then I saw your name. I haven't seen your name in a call on my screen in almost a year. I didn't want to ruin it by answering too fast."
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "Did you... give the donation to my school?"
There was a pause. Then, "I don't know?" His tone was innocent, but something in it made my heart skip.
"Ryder. Are you asking me, or answering me?"
"Both?"
"Ryder." My voice was low, sharp, a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
He sighed, a slow, reluctant sound. "Fine. It was supposed to be anonymous."
"It was," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my chest tightened. "I just... had my suspicions. Why would you do that?"
A pause. Then his voice softened, almost tender. "Because they deserve it. Like any kids anywhere. But... they just happen to be lucky enough to be your students."
My throat went dry.
"But," he added quickly, "I donated to other schools too... because I felt bad."
I let out a laugh, a shaky, watery sound, punctuated by a hiccup, and hung up before anything I wasn't ready to say could escape. I didn't want this. I didn't want him slipping back into the fragile corners of my heart.
The next morning, I woke up with that familiar heaviness still sitting on my chest. Maybe running would help — clear my head, burn off the restless energy. I dragged myself to the window, tugging it open to let in the cool air.
And there he was.
Ryder was already outside, stretching in the pale gold light, moving with an easy rhythm that made it look like the whole morning existed just for him. For a moment, I just watched, caught between annoyance and... something else.
Fine. If he could be that annoyingly serene this early, I could at least try to keep up. I grabbed my sneakers and pulled on workout clothes before I could talk myself out of it.
When I walked into the kitchen, Margot's jaw practically hit the floor.
"You're actually—"
"Don't," I warned, but her grin only widened, slow and sly, like a cat that had just discovered where the canary was hiding.
"Okay, okay," she said, but her eyes were dancing as I slipped past her and headed outside.
Ryder's grin widened when he saw me coming. "Joining me?" he called, and somehow made it sound like a dare.
"I need the exercise," I said, my words casual, though my heartbeat betrayed me.
We started running together, and to my surprise, it was.
.. fun. Really fun. Ryder had always been a good coach—steady, observant, never pushing too hard, never saying too much, but running with him now didn't feel like a lesson.
It felt like a rhythm, like we were syncing step by step, breath by breath, sharing some unspoken joke only we understood.
"You're fast," he said after a while, glancing over with a grin.
"You're just slow," I shot back, even though I was already breathing hard.
"Oh, I see," he said, feigning deep offense. "First run together and you're already trash-talking your trainer."
I smirked, a little smug. "Guess I'm a natural."
He huffed a laugh, shook his head, and picked up the pace just enough to make me work for it. "Careful, rookie. I can still leave you in the dust."
"You wouldn't dare," I said, narrowing my eyes.
He glanced at me with that familiar, quiet smirk. "Hey, don't make me look bad in front of the tree."
I laughed, the sound breaking some of the tightness in my chest, and slowed in the middle of the path, my breaths coming fast and uneven.
"You're... different, Ryder," I said, almost breathless, my words fumbling over each other.
He raised an eyebrow, curious but calm. "Different how?"
I swallowed, trying to find the right way to explain it. "I don't know... you are funnier, softer, ...lighter. It's hard to put into words."
He smiled and said, "Maybe it's because I'm not constantly on guard anymore, always bracing for the next thing to hit me, sometimes literally.
Maybe it's because a weight has finally been lifted, or maybe.
.. it's just that I can finally breathe.
I can finally be myself with you, without fear, without the brokenness I've carried for so long, and for the first time, I feel like I actually have the chance to apologize.
.. to make amends... to rebuild what I broke. "
We went back to running, then I stopped, "I can't do this, Ryder."
He stopped too, turning toward me. "Do what?"
"This," I said, gesturing helplessly between us, my fingers twitching like they couldn't decide whether to reach for him or push him away.
"Whatever this is. I know you're sorry. I know you want me back—" My throat tightened, forcing me to take a breath.
"And I am sorry too, for what happened to you.
Truly. But I'm just... not sold on this whole 'suddenly in love with me' thing. "
His brow furrowed. "Suddenly?"
" You... You called me adorable when I confessed I loved you.
You let Mira say—" My voice cracked. "I can't just erase those moments.
I'm terrified, Ryder. Not just of getting my heart broken again.
Of losing all of me. Terrified if I believe it, if I let myself believe you mean it, I'll just get wrecked all over again. ""
His face softened, pain flickering across it.
"I know," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I hurt you. I'll regret it every single day of my life.
But my feelings... they were never sudden.
They've always been there, buried behind walls of fear and danger.
I don't expect anything from you. You don't owe me a thing, Dec.
Just... let me be there for you in any way, and if you ever want me out of your life completely, just say the word.
I'll go. For now... can you just let me be your friend? "
Tears stung my eyes. I didn't say yes. I didn't say no. I just started running again.
And he followed.