Chapter 21 #2
By the time my shift ends, I am trying to keep it together.
On most days, I have a positive outlook on life.
For example, Ryan was in here earlier, and I was able to keep myself in check.
He’s my daily reminder that it doesn’t matter what anyone goes through, you can still be a good human.
But then I have moments where everything feels like a heavy weight on my chest and breathing becomes near impossible.
Tears could stream down my face for hours upon hours.
This feeling started when I would race into the kitchen as a young girl, looking for my mom and she wasn’t there.
Or when I would want my favorite foods, but my dad didn’t know how to cook them.
When I’d wake up in the morning, I would expect my mom to be there, rubbing my shoulders, kissing my cheek, and brushing my hair.
But day after day after day, it dawned on me that she was gone.
Like gone gone and never fucking coming back.
Her death was hard on me, but that’s an understatement.
It devastated me. I would get panic attacks when I wasn’t even thinking about her.
Seeing classmates with their families triggered me so badly that I would beg my dad to homeschool me.
I wanted to hide from the world, even during college, it felt like I could never be whole again.
Then I met Ryan Wilder. And his presence in my life changed everything for me.
That’s why I’m on my way to his house right now. The moment I’m alone in my car, I’m already crying. I know I have to simply find another place to rent, but it’s just the stress of having to move on when I felt perfectly comfortable with where I was at.
I have these moments when everything feels heavy, and right now, I need him. It’s not just the eviction. I feel guilty for Emma’s excitement over their interaction, and it makes me feel like shit.
God, why did I suggest we take things slow? Why didn't I just throw myself into his arms the second I was aware of his feelings?
I know why.
Because I'm a coward.
Because the thought of changing our dynamic, of risking what we have on the off chance it could be something more, terrifies me down to my bones.
Because if we tried for more and it fell apart, I don't think I could survive that.
By the time I reach Ryan's front door, my mind is spinning, and my hands are shaking. I fish out my copy of his house key and let myself inside.
The house flicks with the faint glow of the TV. He's sitting on the couch alone when he looks over at me, shooting a smile at my presence.
He sits up straighter. “Baddie?”
I’m already crying as he jumps over the couch.
“Ads, what’s wrong?” His brow furrows as his gaze rakes over my tear-streaked face and trembling hands. “What happened?”
And that's all it takes. The gentle concern in his voice, the tender way he reaches for me. It's the final crack in the dam.
My chest is bouncing against his. It feels like everything I’ve worked hard for is falling apart.
My whole body is shaking from my heaving sobs. I cry for my mom, for the gaping hole her death left in my life. I cry for my apartment, my home, the only place that's ever really been mine. I cry for the future I might never have, the dreams that feel further away than ever.
But most of all, I cry for Ryan. For the way I love him, desperately and completely.
For the way I'm so fucking scared to lose him, to lose us.
For the way, I don't know how to tell him any of this, or how to make him understand.
I feel guilty for suggesting we use each other for sex and the deep emotions I had no idea were that deep inside of me.
“Hey, hey.” He's got me in his arms before I can blink, crushing me against the solid wall of his chest. “I've got you.”
I cling to him, my face buried in the crook of his neck as I gulp for air between sobs. He smells like laundry detergent and warm skin, like home and safety and everything I need.
We stay like this until his body helps to regulate mine. After a few minutes, I’m not gasping for air anymore.
“I'm sorry,” I finally choke out, my tears soaking his bare shoulder. “God, I'm so sorry. I didn't–”
I start crying again.
I’m a wreck.
“Don't apologize,” he murmurs, his big hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. “You know you can always come to me, Ads. No matter what.”
I just nod, not trusting my voice. He holds me like that for a long time, letting me cry myself out in the circle of his arms. He doesn't push, doesn't demand answers. He just stands there, strong and steady, absorbing my pain like he always does.
When my sobs finally taper off into hiccupping breaths, he pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands. His thumbs brush over my wet cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he says softly.
I take a shuddering breath. “I'm being evicted.”
“Shit,” he says. “Shit, Baddie, there’s something I have to tell you.”
At the same time, I’m saying, “I don’t know what I’m doing now, Ry.”
Ryan's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I'll talk to your landlord, Ads. I'll fix this.”
But I'm already shaking my head, fresh tears stinging my eyes. “I have thirty days to get out.”
“I’m going to fix this for you.” He looks determined, his hands falling to grip my shoulders. “I can help. I can–”
“Can what?” I interrupt, suddenly so tired I can barely stand. “Throw money at the problem? Use your big, bad hockey star clout to strong-arm him into submission?”
He flinches, hurt flashing in his eyes. “That's not–– I didn't mean.”
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “I know. I'm sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
“Hey.” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You don't have to be fair right now, Ads. You're allowed to be angry. I’m sorry.”
“I feel so lost, Ry. It’s not only the eviction.”
He pulls me into him. “Are you going to be mad if I suggest you move in here?”
I chuckle against his chest. “Move into the guestroom?”
He looks down at me and shakes his head sincerely. “My room.”
My stomach sinks like a trampoline park with a thousand kids jumping at one time. “What?” I mutter.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
I remove myself from his arms. My heart is racing ridiculously fast as I stare into his eyes.
“I know what you’re going to say, so don’t say it,” he says. “Please hear me out. I know you want your own space. If you move in here, it can be temporary, but honestly, you’re here all the time. It’s close to your coffee shop. And I want you to be here.”
I stare at him in disbelief. What if he gets tired of me? What if I lean on him too hard, need him too much? What if he wakes up one day and realizes I'm too broken, too fucked up to be worth the effort? God knows it wouldn't be the first time someone's left me behind.
“I'm scared,” I whisper, confessing. “About us.”
He goes still. “Us? I’m not going anywh––”
“Ry, you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Addison.” He says my name like a prayer, his arms banding around me until there's no space left between us.
“I overheard your dad,” I admit. “I didn’t mean to, but he really doesn’t approve of me, does he?”
“My dad doesn’t get a say in this. I feel what I feel. Ads, you're not going to lose me. Not ever.”
“You can't know that.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hot tears leaking from beneath my lids. “People leave. Even when they don't mean to, even when they promise they won't…they leave.”
“I won't,” he says like a promise, his voice cracking with the force of it. “I will never leave you, Ads. You're, fuck, you're the best thing to ever happen to me .”
My heart stutters in my chest, hope and fear tangling into a painful knot. I want to believe him. I want it so badly I can taste it. But the fear is hard to shake.
“I'm a mess to live with,” I choke out, my fingers curling into the waistband of his sweats. “I leave out my snacks until they go stale, the shower drain will clog from my hair, and if some beautiful woman from the bar wants to meet you, I might just give you her phone number. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend, someone you deserve. I only know how to be your friend.”
“Then we'll figure it out together,” he says, pulling back to cradle my face in his hands.
His eyes are blazing. “Baddie, I want to be worthy of you too.
I'm not expecting you to be perfect. I'm not expecting this to be easy.
But I know, down to my fucking bones, that you're worth it. That we're worth it.”
A sob catches in my throat, my heart cracking wide open.
“I love you,” he says, simple and sure that it takes my breath away. “I'm in love with you, Ads. Have been for years. All I can think about is you…and us…and I want this so fucking badly.”
A single tear slips down my cheek and he thumbs it away. I'm shaking, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings, the genuine tone in his voice.
He means it. Every word.
But still, the doubts linger. Not in him, never in him. But in myself, in my ability to be what he needs. What he deserves.
“You love me?” It comes out small, disbelieving. Like I'm waiting for the punchline, the 'just kidding' that will shatter me into a million pieces.
But it never comes. He just smiles, soft and achingly sweet, and brushes his lips over my forehead. “I love you,” he repeats. “Every stubborn, beautiful inch of you. And I'll spend every day proving it if that's what it takes.”
I make a sound that's halfway between a laugh and a sob, my heart so full it feels like it might burst. “I love you too, you know. So much it scares the hell out of me.”
“I know, baby.” He grins, quick and blinding.
And then he's kissing me, soft and sweet it brings fresh tears to my eyes. I lean into him, letting his warmth and strength and love wash over me, through me.
He can't fix everything. He can't bring my mom back or make my landlord less of a greedy prick. He can't erase a lifetime of abandonment issues with a few pretty words.