Chapter Nine #3
"Can I get you something to drink?" Tanner asks, gesturing toward his kitchen. "Coffee? Wine?"
"This won't take long."
Something in my tone makes him pause, and I see the first flicker of uncertainty cross his features. "Okay. Should we sit?"
"I'd rather stand." I take a breath, channeling every ounce of confidence I possess. "I came here to tell you that I'm with Ryan. And that's not going to change."
Tanner's expression shifts from hopeful to confused. "Bella, I know this morning was a lot to process—"
"It was. And I appreciate you being honest about your feelings last semester. But Tanner, the timing of this conversation isn't coincidental, and we both know it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you had eight months to tell me how you felt.” I cross my arms, studying his face. "But you didn't say anything until after I found someone who makes me happy. That's not romantic timing—that's competitive ego."
Tanner's carefully composed expression cracks slightly. "That's not fair. I told you I was scared—"
"Scared of what? Scared of risking our friendship? Or scared that I wasn't worth the risk until someone else decided I was?"
The question hangs between us, and I watch Tanner struggle to find an answer that doesn't make him look exactly as calculating as I'm suggesting.
"I was protecting what we had," he says finally. "I didn't want to ruin it by pushing for something you might not want."
"But you were willing to ruin it today by trying to convince me that my relationship with Ryan is somehow irrational."
"I wasn't trying to ruin anything. I was trying to save you from making a mistake."
The condescension in his voice makes something hot flare in my chest. "A mistake? Falling in love with someone who sees me clearly, is a mistake?"
"That's not what I meant—"
"Isn't it? Because that's exactly what you implied.” I step closer, and Tanner actually takes a step back.
"Let me be very clear about something, Tanner.
My relationship with Ryan isn't some impulsive decision I made because I was caught up in romance.
It's the most carefully considered choice I've ever made. "
"Bella—"
"I'm not finished." The authority in my own voice surprises me.
"You want to talk about practical compatibility?
Let's talk about it. Ryan understands pressure because he lives with it every day—academic pressure, athletic pressure, the knowledge that one injury could end everything he's worked for. "
Tanner's jaw tightens, but he doesn't interrupt. "And most importantly, he understands that supporting someone's dreams means actually showing up for them, not just offering strategic advice when it's convenient."
"I showed up for you," Tanner protests. "We spent months working together—"
"We spent months studying together. That's not the same thing." I shake my head.
Tanner is quiet for a long moment, and I can see him recalibrating his approach. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, more vulnerable.
"I know I handled this badly. But Bella, everything I said about our connection was true. We do understand each other in ways that—"
"We understood each other as friends and study partners," I interrupt.
"So that's it?" Tanner's composure finally cracks, and I see flashes of the ego that was always lurking beneath his polished exterior. "You're going to throw away everything we could have together for some hockey player who probably won't even be relevant in your life five years from now?"
"You know what, Tanner? You're right about one thing. Five years from now, my life will probably look very different than it does today. But I hope Ryan is still in it." I move toward the door. "And if he's not, it won't be because I chose logic over love."
"Bella, wait—"
I turn back to face him one last time. "For what it's worth, I did care about you. As a friend, as a study partner, as someone who challenged me intellectually. But I was never going to be the person you built up in your head once you realized you couldn't have me."
"That's not how I see you."
Tanner stares at me, and I can see him searching for an argument that will change my mind. But there isn't one, because this conversation was never really about choosing between two men. It was about choosing between two completely different ways of being loved.
"I hope you find someone who sees you the way Ryan sees me," I tell him as I open the door. "And I hope when you do, you don't wait eight months to tell them how you feel."
"Bella—"
"Goodbye, Tanner."
I close the door behind me and walk away, leaving Tanner Williams and all the strategic partnerships and practical considerations and logical analyses behind. Because sometimes the smartest thing you can do is trust your heart to know what your head is too scared to choose.
And my heart chose Ryan O'Sullivan from the moment he stood up from that pile of broken pottery and looked at me like I was exactly the person he'd been waiting to meet. Everything else has just been me catching up to what my heart already knew.