Chapter 31
FAYE
“You have to lead,” I tell Ryder, not meeting his eyes. “I’m still not great at this.”
His mouth quirks—not a full smile, but close. “I saw. Your line dancing was atrocious.”
Heat floods my cheeks all over again. “I had to get a crash course.”
I glance over his shoulder where Rebecca stands near the bar, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, giving me an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“Ah.” Understanding crosses Ryder’s face as he follows my gaze. “An inside job. I should’ve known.”
Then his hand settles on my hip, and the world narrows to that single point of contact.
Gosh, I’d forgotten how overwhelming it is to be this close to him. His scent. His touch. The way his presence fills every one of my senses until I can’t think straight.
The contact doesn’t seem to have the same effect on him.
Ryder is holding himself like he’d rather not be touching me. His shoulders are stiff and he maintains a careful distance even as we move together, his grip on my hand unsure, like he’s still deciding whether to hold on or let go.
I can’t stand it.
But I came here to talk. This is my chance to explain myself, and I won’t waste it.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt.
His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t respond.
“I want to tell you everything, but I can’t talk about it in a bar full of people.”
Ryder still doesn’t reply, but at least he’s not running out. He keeps dancing, guiding me through the steps even as more tension coils through his frame.
“I never meant to lie to you,” I continue. “But I didn’t know when or how to bring it up.”
His hand on my hip flexes, fingers pressing harder for a second before loosening again. “You could’ve told me the night we started dating.” His voice is controlled, but I hear the hurt underneath. “When I said trust was everything to me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I have no excuse.”
We sway in silence for a moment, the music washing over us while my pulse hammers in my ears. His expression is unreadable, shadows playing across his face in the dim bar light.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question is quieter than the first time he asked it, stripped of anger, but still full of pain.
“Can we—” My throat closes up. “Can we go somewhere else to talk? Please?”
For a long moment, he looks at me like he might say no, then his chin dips in a sharp and decisive nod.
We step off the dance floor together, his hand still loosely holding mine, but I’m not sure it’s a conscious gesture. Rebecca and Remy are waiting near the bar, both grinning, satisfied.
“Heading out?” Rebecca asks.
“Yeah,” Ryder says.
Remy claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t spank him too hard, Miss Rose, even if he likes it.”
“I—err… won’t?” I sputter.
Rebecca laughs. “And if he starts pouting again, put him in time-out.”
A ghost of a smirk pulls at his lips as he looks between his siblings. “Family loyalty is always heartwarming.”
Both of them beam back at him with identical shit-eating grins.
But the smile dulls on Ryder’s face as we head toward the exit. Music and laughter fade behind us, replaced by the chirp of crickets and the rustle of wind through the trees lining the parking lot.
“Where are you staying?” he asks, his voice careful, neutral.
“The Rockwood Hotel.” Ryder releases my hand as if this is another betrayal. But I’m never keeping anything from him again, so it’s going to be only hard truths from now on. “It was the only place in town with rooms.”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, I’m not going there.”
My stomach drops. Of course he won’t. I scramble to find an alternative—we could talk in the parking lot, or—
“Rhys is staying with my mother tonight.” He meets my eyes. “We can go to my place.”
The ride to Ryder’s house is tense. I drive, and he sulks in silence save for when he has to give me directions once we pass the gates of Hollow Creek.
I pull up in front of his farmhouse, a smaller replica of his mother’s: single-story instead of double, white clapboard, with a deep wrap-around porch. The place suits him. It’s rustic and a little retro. A beautiful classic.
In the yard, a tire swing hangs from an oak tree, and a small red bike is abandoned in the grass.
I kill the engine, and the silence that rushes in feels heavy enough to drown in.
Ryder climbs out without a word. I follow on shaky legs.
I expect him to unlock the door and invite me in, but he stops on the porch, dropping onto one of the rustic wooden armchairs with cushioned seats. He gestures for me to take the other one before he crosses his arms over his chest.
Is he afraid of being alone in the house with me? Because he doesn’t trust himself, or because letting me inside would open a door he wants to keep shut?
Even sitting outside, I feel like an intruder.
In the half shadows of the porch, his features are hard to read, but it’s obvious he’s waiting.
“I don’t know where to start,” I tell him.
“How about with the truth?” His voice is flat. “All of it.”
I nod. I’m not sure I’m ready to share everything, but I’m also done hiding.
“I co-founded my gaming studio with two other people. We started small, but our third game took off to a level no one expected. I was the creative lead together with my ex, and the other guy was the financial brain.”
Ryder nods. He probably already looked this up online.
“It was a dream,” I continue. “We went from three college kids in a garage to a full studio. We had investors, a team, we won awards. Eclipse Born became this… phenomenon. And I loved creating something that mattered to people. That brought them joy.”
Ryder’s face remains carved in stone. He doesn’t give me any hint how he’s taking this, but I continue anyway.
“But then I blurred the line between loving the work and thinking I loved the person I developed those games with. I started dating one of my co-founders, our CEO.”
Ryder’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“Shane was brilliant; he supported all my ideas. We were building an empire together. It felt like we were unstoppable. But after a year, we got into a huge argument over a project, and he pulled rank over me, making some major decisions without telling me. He became power-hungry about everything, and I wanted nothing to do with that, so I ended it.”
I exhale on a shaky breath.
“He didn’t take it well.”
The understatement of the century.
“Shane couldn’t handle the rejection and made sure I paid for it.” The memories choke me. “He started small, questioning my decisions in meetings, making little comments that undermined my authority. At first, I thought I was imagining it. That I was being paranoid.”
I dig my nails into my palms.
“But it got worse. He started cutting me out of more and more important decisions. He’d hold meetings without me, then act surprised when I didn’t know what was happening. He’d tell the team I was being difficult. Emotional. That I couldn’t separate the business from my personal feelings.”
Ryder’s hands curl into fists.
“He gaslighted me. Made me doubt myself and everyone else question me. In public, he was polite, but in private, he’d send me messages late at night that were half-apologies, half-threats.
Mostly threats, actually. But because he was the CEO, people sided with him.
I became the problem. The ex-girlfriend who couldn’t let go. The woman causing drama.”
Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back.
“When it was obvious the rift would never get better, I hired a lawyer and filed a harassment lawsuit. That’s when things turned uglier,” I continue.
“The case became public. The media got hold of it. And I was in the center of this… storm. Half the articles painted me as a victim. The other half called me a liar. An opportunist. Saying I was trying to bring down a successful man because I was bitter about the breakup. His text messages were part of the court proceedings. They got leaked, and some were… sexual in nature, perverse even. My parents…”
I stumble on my words.
“Faye…” Ryder leans forward.
I raise a hand. “Please let me finish, or I might never get through with everything. My parents… they’re very traditional. They wanted nothing to do with the scandal and cut ties with me. I haven’t spoken with them in over a year.”
I press my palms to my thighs to hold myself together.
“People I thought were my friends turned on me. Coworkers testified against me. The internet tore me apart. Every day, new articles popped up, think pieces with strangers debating whether I was brave or manipulative. If I was telling the truth or making it all up for attention.”
I exhale. “I lost my company. My reputation. My family. My sense of self. Everything I built and loved was taken from me.”
Ryder’s eyes are locked on mine; they are burning.
“The lawsuit dragged on for months, but in the end, I just wanted it to be over, so I settled. I sold my shares in the company and signed an NDA. I agreed never to speak about what happened to anyone. Everything I told you tonight, I’m not legally allowed to talk about.
You could ruin me just by knowing this. It’s why I didn’t tell you in the beginning.
You said you weren’t sure if this relationship was important enough to share with your son, and I guess I needed more than one date to break my NDA.
But I’m also tired of keeping it in, of watching my back, of wondering who’ll try to get me next.
And if there is one person I can give the power to destroy me, you’re the only one I trust.
“I came to Blue Crescent Harbor because I wanted to vanish,” I whisper. “I wanted to be someone new without a complicated past that followed me everywhere. And then I met you.”
Ryder looks like he’s about to spring up from his chair to go murder someone, but he keeps still and lets me speak.
“You were everything I wasn’t expecting,” I confess. “Honest, unconcerned with money or status or any of the things that mattered in LA. You cared about your son. Your family. Your land. And you made me feel… safe. Like I could be myself without being judged.”