Chapter Nine #2
I spend the rest of the morning walking around campus, trying to clear my head. I end up at the library, surrounded by the familiar comfort of books and quiet study spaces, but for once, the academic environment doesn't provide the clarity I'm looking for.
The questions Tanner raised keep circling in my mind. Am I choosing Ryan based on feeling rather than logic? Am I ignoring practical compatibility issues because I'm caught up in romance?
At lunch, I call Riley.
"Please tell me you're calling to gush about your amazing night with Ryan," she says without preamble.
"It's complicated."
"Oh no. What happened?"
I tell her everything—Tanner's apology, his confession about having feelings for me last semester, his questions about compatibility, my growing uncertainty about whether I'm making decisions based on emotion rather than logic.
"Okay," Riley says when I finish. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. You're considering giving up the best relationship you've ever had because Tanner Williams suddenly realized what he lost and is trying to convince you that love isn't practical enough?"
"It's not that simple."
"Isn't it? Bella, Tanner had eight months to see you as more than a study partner.
Eight months to realize you were amazing and available and interested.
But he only figured it out after another man made you unavailable.
" Riley's voice is sharp with irritation.
"That's not romantic timing—that's competitive ego. "
"But what if he's right about compatibility? What if I am making decisions based on feeling instead of logic?"
"Since when is that a bad thing? You've been logical and practical your entire life. Maybe it's time to trust your heart for once." Riley pauses. "Besides, who says you can't have both?"
After I hang up with Riley, I know what I need to do. I need to talk to Ryan—honestly, completely, about my fears and my confusion and what Tanner's words stirred up in me. Because if we're going to build something real together, it has to be based on honesty about who we are and what we want.
I find Ryan at the community center, coming off the ice after practice. His hair is damp with sweat, and he's still in his gear, but his face lights up when he sees me waiting in the lobby.
"Hey," he says, skating over to the boards. "How are you doing?"
"Confused," I admit. "Can we talk? Somewhere private?"
"Give me ten minutes to shower and change?"
While I wait, I rehearse what I want to say, how to explain that I love him but Tanner's words have made me question whether I'm making decisions with my heart instead of my head. When Ryan emerges from the locker room, he looks like he's bracing himself for difficult news.
"Tanner apologized," I tell him as we walk to his car. "And he told me that he had feelings for me last semester that he was too scared to act on."
"And now he wants another chance."
"He says he wants me to consider whether we're truly compatible long-term.
Whether I'm making decisions based on emotion rather than practical considerations about our future.
" I take a breath. "Ryan, I love you. But Tanner raised some questions about our different worlds that I can't stop thinking about. "
Ryan stops walking and turns to face me. "What kind of questions?"
"Questions about whether you'll really understand the demands of my career." I look at him directly.
Ryan is quiet for a long moment, and I can see him processing what I've said.
"Those are fair questions," he says finally. "And honest ones. But Bella, can I ask you something?"
"Do you think I don't understand pressure?
Do you think being captain of a hockey team, managing my own academic struggles while helping my teammates with theirs, knowing that one injury could end everything I've worked for—do you think that doesn't require the same kind of focus and sacrifice you're talking about? "
The question catches me off guard. "That's not what I meant—"
"Isn't it? Because it sounds like Tanner convinced you that my world is somehow less demanding than yours, that I couldn't possibly understand what real pressure feels like." Ryan's voice is calm but there's an edge to it.
"Maybe they are. Maybe I have been making decisions with my heart instead of my head."
"And is that such a terrible thing?" Ryan reaches for my hands. "Bella, you've been practical and logical your entire life. And where has that gotten you? Alone, working toward goals that someone else defined as important, trying to earn approval from people who don't really see you."
His words hit home in ways I don't expect.
"You know what I think?" Ryan continues. "I think Tanner Williams realized he lost something valuable, and now he's trying to convince you that the happiness you found with me is somehow irrational."
"What if this is all a mistake?"
"Was last night a mistake?"
The question stops me cold. Because last night wasn't a mistake—it was the most right thing I've ever done. Last night was me finally trusting my heart over my analytical mind, and it led to the most genuine happiness I've ever experienced.
"No," I whisper. "Last night wasn't a mistake."
"Then trust that feeling." Ryan cups my face in his hands.
As we drive back toward campus, I realize that the choice isn't between Ryan and practical compatibility.
The choice is between trusting the love we've built together and letting someone else's doubts undermine my own certainty.
And when I think about it that way, the decision becomes surprisingly clear.
"I need to go see Tanner," I tell Ryan as we pull up to my apartment building.
"To tell him about your decision?"
"To tell him that I don't appreciate being manipulated. That timing his emotional revelation for right after you and I became real isn't romantic—it's strategic." I lean over and kiss Ryan softly.
Ryan's smile is bright enough to power the entire campus. "I love you, Bella Lawson."
"I love you too, Ryan O'Sullivan. Impractically, illogically, and completely."
I stand outside Tanner's apartment building for exactly thirty seconds before my resolve solidifies into something unshakeable.
The conversation with Ryan crystallized everything I'd been struggling with—not because he convinced me of anything, but because he helped me remember who I am when I'm not second-guessing myself.
Tanner answers his door on the second knock, and his face immediately brightens when he sees me.
"Bella," he says, stepping aside to let me in. "I’m glad you’re here."
"We need to talk."
His apartment is tastefully decorated, perfectly organized, the kind of space that looks like it belongs in a magazine rather than being lived in.