8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Aspen
I love what I do. I truly do. Animals don’t have a voice that can tell you when they’re sick or hurting. They can’t say, “I have this stabbing pain in my stomach that won’t go away, or eating this type of food makes me feel sick.”
It’s up to you to figure out what the problem is and treat it.
They also don’t have a voice to thank you when you help them, but they don’t need one. You can see it in their eyes. Their eyes hide nothing, and there’s no subterfuge or blame or accusation. It’s the best feeling in the world, seeing the pain change to happiness.
But then you get days like today. Days where a dog looks at you with trusting eyes even while you’re administering that last shot, ending the pain that you’re not able to take away. Days where you have to keep it together while watching the beloved pet close their eyes for the final time.
It breaks me. Every time. Not only for the animal but for the owners as well. For the utter devastation on their faces when they say goodbye.
That’s when doubts creep in. Is this what I want to do with my life? Am I strong enough to handle the bad? But then I have to remind myself that the good outweighs the bad.
So I swallow it down and pray that the next day will be a better day.
I stop my car next to Ryan’s, brushing a tear from my cheek. It was hard, but I’ve kept it together all day; but right now, I don’t feel like swallowing it down.
What I want is Ryan’s arms around me. Even though I’m angry at him, he’s still my safe space, and I want to get lost in him and the comfort only he can provide me. To be able to break down and not have to stay strong for anyone. Have him be strong for me.
It’s so damn hard having to be strong and comfort someone when all you want is to break down yourself.
I messaged Ryan just before I left, asking him to have a glass of wine ready when I get home. I’ve done this before and he knows it’s my SOS. That I’ve had a hard day, and I’m struggling.
“Ryan,” I call out while slipping off my shoes and dropping my bag and keys on the table by the door. He doesn’t answer, so I go looking for him, hoping that for once, he’s alone. Not likely , I mutter, since every day for the last week, Hadley’s been here when I got home.
And she’s still as much of a stranger as the first time I met her. She’s consistently shut down any effort I’ve made to get to know her, so I’ve stopped trying, resigning myself that we’ll never be friends.
Ryan doesn’t answer, and he’s not in his home office when I check. Feminine laughter rings out, and my heart drops into my stomach.
“You should know by now that hope only leads to disappointment, where she’s concerned,” I mutter. And yes, seems like I’m talking to myself now.
My feet dragging, I follow the sound of her laughter and Ryan’s chuckles. My jaw clenches because I’m so, so angry. They’re laughing and having a fantastic time while I’m hurting. Is my anger irrational? Maybe. Ryan doesn’t know I’ve had a bad day, but then, he would have if he bothered to have any contact with me during the day. So, yeah, there goes the comfort I was so desperately needing. I just know it won’t be happening tonight, which gets confirmed when I stop dead in my tracks, my body deflating.
“Just what any girl wants to come home to. Her boyfriend and his best friend, half-naked in a hot tub,” I mutter, taking them in.
Ryan’s lounged against the side of the hot tub, holding a beer, and Hadley—she’s in a two-piece from what I can see, her hair in a messy bun, a glass of wine in her hand.
A detached part of me can’t help but admire her breasts. They’re barely covered, and they’re…spectacular.
Seeing them together like that—relaxed, not a care in the world—bothers me. A fucking great deal. Why is he out there with her when he’s usually still working at this time? Didn’t he get my message?
In a split second, I go from wanting Ryan’s arms around me to wanting to be alone. It feels like there are miles of distance between us, and I don’t want to be in their company. Not after the day I’ve had.
Just as I’m about to head to the kitchen so I can grab some wine before hiding in the bedroom, Ryan spots me, his face breaking into a smile. I try to return it, but it’s more like a grimace that feels horrible on my face. His smile drops, my name dying on his lips when he takes in my expression. He gets up, water streaming down his body, but I don’t wait for him, turning and marching to the kitchen, not caring if I’m being rude.
My eyes fall to the nearly empty bottle of wine on the counter, and I have to bite back tears. Really? Is an empty bottle of wine the thing that’s going to tip me over the edge? But it’s my wine that she’s drinking. The one that’s a bit too sweet for her taste. And it’s my last bottle.
Just how long have they been out there?
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Ryan says, a towel tied around his waist.
I look down at the little pools of water that are dripping from his still-wet body, my hands clenching at my sides. Water that I’ll most probably have to mop up.
I bet you didn’t. You’re too busy with your friend who’s drinking my wine in the hot tub I bought. For us. The friend who only has eyes for you and wants nothing to do with me. The friend who I strongly suspect is trying to replace me in your life. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I school my face into a blank mask and turn to him.
“I messaged you when I left.”
“You did? Shit, sorry. I left my phone in my office.”
“Why do you sound surprised? I usually message you when I leave work.”
It’s something he insisted I do. For his peace of mind.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
Time is not the only thing you lost track of.
Sighing, I let my eyes linger on the bottle, trying to beat down the helpless feeling bubbling in my stomach. Everything that’s been going on is not okay, and I’m at a complete loss for how to navigate this situation.
None of my previous relationships prepared me for this situation because none of them were serious enough for me to invest all of myself. Beyond the initial heartbreak of a failed relationship, they were easy to walk away from. Not Ryan. Losing him would break me.
I don’t know how to voice what I’m feeling in a way that he’ll understand. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll come across as insecure, insensitive, and selfish. Paranoid. He said she’s like a sister, but the way she looks at him and touches him—it’s nothing like his relationship with Rose. Rose isn’t territorial about him. She doesn’t touch him every chance she gets. She doesn’t cuddle with him.
All these things have my gut screaming at me, and I’d be stupid to ignore it.
I’m scared.
The thought stops me cold. It’s not only the fear that I’ll sound unreasonable. It’s the fear that he’ll take her side over mine. Fear that he cares more for her than me.
I want my mom. Nobody in the world loved me as much as she did, and I want her to hug me and tell me everything will be okay. My heart aches as the pain of losing her overwhelms me once more. When does losing someone you love stop hurting?
“Aspen.”
The sound of Ryan’s voice pulls me from this spiral I’m in, and I turn, finding his concerned eyes on me.
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Everything.
“Don’t lie.” He steps closer, trying to wrap his arms around me, but I step back.
“Sorry, I don’t want to get wet.”
My excuse is flimsy at best, and his frown tells me he knows it.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve just had a hard day at work, okay? All I wanted was to come home, have a glass of wine, and spend time with you.”
“What happened?”
Concern furrows his brow, and instead of the concern soothing me, it irritates me. Let’s do that. Let’s focus on the minor issue, completely ignoring the bigger one.
“It doesn’t matter.” I sigh, running through options in my head. Never before have I needed space from Ryan, but now I do. Space to process everything I’m feeling, and to get a grip on my emotions. But I’m conflicted. I don’t want to leave them alone. Doing that feels dangerous. Not that it will make a difference. They’re together all day while I’m at work. That decides it for me, and I make my way back to the front door to collect my bag and keys.
“Where are you going?”
“Out for a bit,” I mutter, trying to ignore his heat at my back.
He grabs my arm. “Aspen. What the hell is going on? You just got here.”
I shrug, my demeanor a lot calmer than the churning going on inside my stomach.
“And now I’m leaving. I don’t want to be here right now.”
“What the fuck, Aspen? I’m confused. What happened between this morning and now?”
Okay, if he wants to do this now, I’ll spell it out for him.
“I had a horrible day at work. I had to assist Julia with an euthanasia. And then I come home to find the two of you in the hot tub. How would you feel if you came home after a hard day only to find me drinking in the hot tub with Carter or Nathan?”
His mouth opens, and I sigh again when it settles into a stubborn line.
“It’s not the same.”
“How? How is it not the same? Hadley’s single. Carter’s single. Nathan’s single. From where I’m standing, it’s exactly the same.” Looking up, I take a deep breath. I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with this tonight. “Those boundaries I told you I was worried about? This isn’t just crossing them, Ryan. This is you pole vaulting over them.”
“Not this again,” he mutters, and my blood pressure rises. “I get that you’ve had a hard day, but don’t make this bigger than it is. How many times must I tell you that Hadley’s like a sister to me?”
“Really? I’m being unreasonable because I had a hard day? And are you speaking for the both of you?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Is he really that stupid?
“Figure it out, Ryan.”
I raise my brows in question as Rose takes a seat at the booth.
“Maya said you were here. If you wanted a night by yourself, you know better than coming to Frosty’s.”
“No, I’m glad you’re here.”
Distraction is good. It’s better than stewing in my thoughts. My phone screen has been dark, a mirror to my heart. Ryan hasn’t bothered to find out where I’ve gone to. I know it’s petty because I made it pretty clear that I needed time alone, but still. It stings. A lot.
He’s most probably too wrapped up in Hadley to care.
“I don’t like Hadley.”
There, I’ve said it.
“Uh, oh. Trouble in paradise?”
I shouldn’t talk to Rose. It’s not fair to her, with her being Ryan’s sister and all, but I need to talk to someone.
“I don’t trust her, and Ryan’s blind when it comes to her.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, babe.” She smiles when Maya hands her a beer.
“Who’s preaching?” Maya slides onto the seat next to Rose, cradling her tray against her chest, her eyes jumping between Rose and me.
“Did you enjoy your painting?” I smile, glancing at her fingers.
Her whole face lights up, only to fall into a frown when she looks at her fingernails. Setting the tray on the table, she scrapes at them, trying to remove the paint.
“Ugh,” she complains. “This paint is so damn stubborn. I was in a rush to make it on time for my shift,” she apologizes as if having a few streaks of paint on her fingers is the worst thing in the world. When Maya paints, the world around her stops existing. “I thought I got it all off. But yes, I’m so happy with how this piece is turning out.”
Painting is her passion, and she’s damn good at it. I know that one day, all the time and effort she puts into it will pay off, and the world will see what I see when I look at them. But until then, she waitresses to help pay the bills. And to be around Nathan. But that’s not something we talk about. Nobody likes to be reminded that their love is unrequited.
“Anyway, what are we talking about?” she says.
“Hadley.”
Rose and Maya share a grimace, and my heart warms. These are my girls. My tribe. I don’t have my mom anymore, but at least I have them.
“I knew she was going to be trouble,” Rose says, taking a sip of her beer.
“How so?”
I’m hoping that I’ll finally be able to get some insight into Hadley. And maybe get some validation that I’m not just being a clingy girlfriend.
“Ryan is like her favorite toy. And she doesn’t like to share. Everyone can see it, except for him. He’s always had a blind spot for her.”
I nod because isn’t that the truth? His reaction earlier speaks volumes. He’s like a horse wearing blinkers.
“She’s in love with him.”
My words are flat because I’m not asking a question. I’m stating a fact. Rose grimaces in sympathy.
“I’ve always thought so. I was shocked when she moved away, but all Ryan would say was that the job opportunity was too good to pass on.”
“You should have warned me,” I mutter, completely aware that I’m trying to put blame where it doesn’t belong.
“Maybe, but she’s been gone for so long, I thought maybe she’d be over it by now. I didn’t want to create problems where there might not be any.”
“I’m sorry. You’re completely right. I’m just…she’s making it unbearable at home.”
“What is she doing?”
“She’s inserting herself into everything. She treats Ryan’s house, and Ryan, for that matter, like they belong to her. Like I’m the intruder. I can’t turn around without her being there. I’m so sick of her face.”
Okay, that last part makes me sound like a bitch, but I’ve got a feeling that with girls like Hadley, playing nice won’t cut it. And it’s so nice to just…vent. To get everything off my chest.
“It sounds like she’s staking her claim.”
I nod because that’s exactly what she’s doing.
“Put your foot down. Make it clear it’s your house, not hers. Put some boundaries in place.”
I shrug helplessly. “How can I? I might live there, but it’s Ryan’s house, and if he’s fine with it, I don’t have the right.”
“That’s bullshit. It’s your house too.”
“Is it really?”
“Come on, Aspen. This isn’t you. You’re not a pushover.”
Rose’s harsh words have my spine stiffening. Normally, I would agree with her, but it’s not that straightforward.
“So what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, sorry about your dad, but please fuck off?’ How would that make me look?”
“Like someone that’s not na?ve. Like someone who’s not afraid to put her foot down when something isn’t right. I’ve known Hadley for as long as Ryan’s known her, and I can tell you she’s playing a game. And at the moment, you’re allowing her to win.”
Hadley’s in the kitchen wiping down the counter when I get home, and seeing her kill all the effort Rose and Maya put into cheering me up.
“Where’s Ryan?” I ask, folding my arms and taking her in. She’s still in her swimsuit, her boobs prominently displayed, but at least she’s wearing a cover-up around her bottom half. Small mercies, I suppose. Her hair is out of the bun she had it in earlier, each tousled strand framing her face perfectly. Right down to her flushed fucking cheekbones. Is it flushed from the hot tub, the wine, or something else?
“Shower,” she says, a soft, secretive smile on her face.
My blood boiling, I turn, needing to get away from her. I’m afraid I’ll do or say something I can’t take back if I don’t.
“That was so childish, you know, storming out like that. It’s just a dog,” she says, soft enough that her voice doesn’t carry.
Her words are so alien to me that I stop and stare at her in disbelief. “What did you say?”
And this time, I’m not holding back. I let all the dislike I feel for her show on my face.
“I said, it’s just a dog. Ryan told me what happened at work. It’s not the end of the world.”
She might be beautiful on the outside, but inside she’s rotten. To her core. How can Ryan be friends with such an ugly person?
“You know what? I have tried with you, but it’s become blindingly clear that I’m wasting my time.”
She smiles, and this time it’s not pretty or soft. “Took you long enough.”
I’m shaking in anger when I get to our room. Ryan’s in sweatpants, busy pulling a shirt over his head.
“How is it that you feel it’s okay to talk to her about my day, yet I’m not allowed to ask about hers?”
He rights his shirt, regarding me with an impassive face. “No, ‘Hello Ryan, I’m back. Sorry for what happened earlier.’ You just launch right into it, huh?”
I clench my teeth at his sarcasm. And that he’s expecting me to apologize. “Just answer my question.”
“I’ll answer yours if you answer mine. How is it okay for you to run away when we’re having an argument?”
“So, what? Discussing me with her is some form of payback?”
He sighs. “No, but what was I supposed to tell her when you left?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Our business has nothing to do with her.”
He chooses to ignore that, instead asking, “Where were you?”
“Does it matter? Looks like you had fun without me.”
“Of course it fucking matters,” he explodes. “This isn’t what we do! We have a problem, we talk it out. We don’t go running off to who knows where.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t want her here anymore.”
“No, you don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make this about her. This is about you and me.”
I gape at him in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? This has everything to do with her. And you, for that matter.”
He regards me in frustration. “I don’t understand where this is coming from. I checked with you before she came and you were fine with it.”
“That was when I thought she was like your other friends. Like Bailey and Hannah. But she’s not. She’s different. The two of you together are different.”
“Because she’s like my sister. How many times must I say that?”
I shake my head. Because that’s not what this is.
“She doesn’t like me and she’s causing issues between us.”
“Are you sure about that, because she hasn’t had a bad word to say about you? From where I’m standing, you’re the one causing issues.”
I rear back as if he’s slapped me. I almost wish he did because a slap would have been less painful than his words. Ignoring my expression, he continues. Continues to devastate me. “What exactly is it you want me to do? Tell her she needs somewhere else to stay? She’s struggling and you’re expecting me to make things harder for her?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, is she struggling?, but I bite it back. That’s going too far, and who am I to judge how somebody else handles their grief?
My body slumps, my anger draining and being replaced by helplessness and confusion. I don’t recognize this Ryan standing in front of me. The one who stubbornly refuses to even try to see my side. The Ryan that cares more about Hadley’s feelings than mine.
“I guess not,” I sigh, giving up. Walking to the bathroom, I close the door and lean back against it, closing my eyes, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay.