21 Ryan
She doesn’t mean to fall asleep.
I can tell she isn’t ready to dig into everything, or anything, really, and I’ve never been great at sitting in silence, so I fill it. Stories about my students, things that make her laugh, anything light enough to keep us above the weight of it all.
At some point, her responses fade.
Her head tips against my shoulder, her body softening as she drifts off mid-sentence.
I wrap an arm around her and settle in.
Holding her like this- her weight against me, her head tucked into my shoulder- feels so familiar it almost hurts.
Like no time has passed.
Like we didn’t lose three years.
My hand rests lightly against her back, rising and falling with her breathing, and I don’t move.
If I stay perfectly still, maybe this won’t end…
At the bar, I told Christian and Jamie they could be as sad or as pissed as they wanted, but I wasn’t going to punish her.
I wasn’t going to lose her again.
“Good luck,” Christian snapped. “She’s already planning on leaving again.”
I practically ran from the bar and went straight to my parents’ place, needing to see for myself. I didn’t breathe properly until I saw the lights on in her apartment and knew she hadn’t left.
After that, I paced like an idiot, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to say when I saw her.
Then I stepped outside and there she was.
I didn’t think.
I just moved.
The kiss wasn’t planned, and for a split second I hated myself for it. Hated that I didn’t ask. Didn’t give her a choice. Just took.
It was the first time I’d ever kissed her and that was not how I imagined it happening.
But I don’t regret it.
Because I forgave her.
Already.
Completely.
Maybe it's because I also ran away that I can forgive her.
Maybe it's because I know she's probably spent the last three years living through her own version of hell.
But I think the real reason is simpler than that.
I always knew she could break my heart.
It was the risk built into loving her.
For years, I tried not to think too hard about what would happen when she was finally free. When Gary was gone. When she was old enough that everything between the four of us would have to change.
Because no matter how much we pretended otherwise, it was always there. And if I let myself think about it for too long, I'd start wondering things I didn't want to wonder.
What if she chose Christian?
What if she chose Jamie?
What if she looked at one of them the way I looked at her?
I never really let myself imagine the ending.
Not because I didn't want one. Because I feared I wouldn’t be in hers.
And loving her always meant accepting that she might not choose me.
Maybe that sounds pathetic.
Maybe it is.
But when you love someone enough, having them in your life starts to feel more important than having them all to yourself.
So yeah, I forgive her. Because having her back at all feels like a gift.
Carefully, I pull my phone from my pocket and fire off a text.
Me: I’m staying here. And I mean it. I’m not letting her go again.
It takes a few minutes before Christian responds.
Christian: I don’t think that’s our choice.
I stare at the message for a moment.
Our choice. Our.
Maybe we’re still broken. But it seems like maybe we could still be a we.