17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Bella
“ M om, please,” Luke says, his voice barely above a whisper as he sits across from me at the kitchen table. His eyes are wide, pleading. He’s been chipping away at me for days now, but this feels like the final blow.
“I miss Ryan and Alice,” he continues, his voice earnest and small. “It’s more fun when they’re here. Can’t we all...I don’t know, live together or something?”
His words hang in the air like a heavy weight. I grip the edge of the table, trying to steady myself.
“Luke,” I begin, keeping my voice gentle but firm, “it’s not that simple. Ryan has his own home, his own life. And so do we.”
“But we’re always at his place,” Luke shoots back quickly, his brows furrowing. “Or he’s here. What’s the difference?”
I open my mouth, searching for a response, but I don’t have one. He’s not wrong. I know it, and so does he.
“Things are...complicated, honey,” I say finally, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
Luke crosses his arms tightly over his chest, his expression stubborn. “It wouldn’t be if you just said yes.”
The bluntness of his words knocks the wind out of me, and I can’t stop the soft sigh that escapes. Before I can come up with a response, the sound of the front door opening fills the room.
Ryan’s deep voice calls out, “Bella, I come bearing groceries.”
“We’re in the kitchen!” I yell back, forcing a cheerful tone. Luke doesn’t look convinced, but he slumps back into his chair with a long-suffering sigh.
Ryan steps into the kitchen moments later, grocery bag in one hand and a confident grin plastered on his face. Alice trails behind him, holding her stuffed animal with one hand.
“Smells good in here,” Ryan says as he sets the bag down on the counter.
“It’s just spaghetti,” I reply, hoping my voice sounds casual, though my heart flutters in a way that feels anything but.
“Fancy spaghetti,” he corrects with a wink. He looks between me and Luke, his expression softening as he takes us both in. “Did we walk in on something?”
Luke doesn’t miss a beat. “I was just asking Mom why we can’t all live together.”
“Luke!” I hiss, shooting him a look.
Ryan’s brows shoot up, and for a beat, he says nothing. Then he turns to me, a small, unreadable smile on his face. “Is that right?”
I glare at Luke again, but he just shrugs, utterly unrepentant. “You’re always here,” he mutters, almost to himself. “It makes sense.”
Ryan looks at me, his expression searching. “And what did you say?”
I let out a slow breath, trying to regain some control of the situation. “I said it’s complicated.”
“Hmm.” Ryan makes a thoughtful noise as he begins unpacking groceries. “Complicated, huh? Well, Luke, let me tell you something—your mom likes to overthink things.”
“Ryan—” I start, but he raises a hand, grinning at me.
“She does,” he insists, looking pointedly at Luke. “It’s one of her best qualities, actually. It means she never makes a decision lightly. It’s part of why she’s so good at running the café, and at being your mom.”
Luke seems only half convinced. “But it’s not complicated to me. I miss you guys when you’re not here.”
Ryan’s smile softens, and he kneels beside Luke so they’re eye to eye. “I miss you too, buddy. And I know Alice does, too. But these kinds of decisions are big ones. You don’t rush them. You make sure they’re right, okay?”
Luke nods slowly, his face thoughtful, but I know my son. He’s not done pushing. Not yet.
When Luke and Alice finally disappear into the living room to start their usual chaos, Ryan turns to me, his expression more serious. “So, what’s the real answer?”
“To what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he’s getting at.
“To Luke’s question,” he says simply. He steps closer and leans casually against the counter. “Why aren’t we all living together yet?”
I cross my arms over my chest and meet his gaze head-on. “Because it’s complicated.”
He chuckles under his breath. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.”
I sigh, glancing toward the living room, where giggles erupt from whatever game the kids have invented this time. “It’s just...I don’t want to rush into anything. I don’t want Luke to get used to something that might not last. What happens if this doesn’t work out, Ryan?”
Ryan watches me for a long moment, his expression soft but unwavering. “Bella, I know you’re scared of what will happen if we fail. But have you thought about what happens if we don’t? The first time we spoke about this arrangement, the idea of us living together with the kids was on the table.”
His words take me off guard, and I blink at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, look at them,” he says, nodding toward the living room. “Luke and Alice. They’re happy. They’re thriving. They love each other like siblings already. And you and I...we’re already doing this, Bella. We’re together more often than not. You spend half your time at my place, and when you’re not there, I’m here.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he presses on. “The only difference is, we’re still pretending like it’s temporary. Like this isn’t real. But it is real, Bella. It’s as real as it gets.”
I stare at him, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. “And what if it isn’t enough? What if I’m not good enough to be Alice’s mother figure?”
Ryan’s expression softens as he takes a step closer, reaching out to cup my face gently in his hands. “You’re more than enough,” he says, his voice low and steady. “For me, for Luke, for Alice. You’re already giving us all so much. All I’m asking is that you let me give something back.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight. “And what if this doesn’t work?”
He smiles faintly. “Then we figure it out. Together.”
The simplicity of his answer disarms me completely. I close my eyes briefly, trying to gather my thoughts. When I open them again, he’s still there, watching me like he’s ready to wait forever if he has to.
“Okay,” I say finally, the word barely more than a whisper. “We can try.”
Ryan’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Yeah?”
I nod, exhaling shakily. “But we start slow. You spend most of your days here, but you keep your place. Just...just in case.”
For the briefest moment, I see something flicker across his face—disappointment, maybe?—but it’s gone before I can name it. “If that’s what makes you comfortable,” he agrees softly.
“It’s not about comfort,” I murmur, half to myself. “It’s about being realistic.”
Ryan chuckles quietly, though there’s no humor in it. “You and that word. Realistic .”
I glance away, embarrassed. “Well, excuse me for being practical.”
He steps closer, his hand brushing mine. “Bella,” he says gently, “you don’t have to protect yourself from me. I’m here.”
Before I can respond, Luke calls out from the living room. “Mom! Ryan! We need food testers!”
Ryan smirks, his eyes still holding mine. “Saved by the kids.”
I let out a shaky breath, forcing a smile. “For now.”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter, terrible cookies, and Alice proudly declaring that she’ll open a bakery someday because she’s inspired by Ryan’s words of encouragement.
By the time the kids are tucked in bed, the house feels full—a warmth that lingers long after the chaos settles. As I stand at the sink rinsing plates, Ryan comes up behind me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders.
“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice close to my ear.
I nod, letting myself lean into him just a little. “Yeah,” I murmur, my voice steady. “I think I am.”
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head, and I let my eyes drift closed, just for a moment. Maybe, just maybe, this can work.