Chapter 42
Ryan had barely pulled out of the driveway when my legs gave out beneath me.
I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest as the sobs overtook me.
It felt like I had just ripped out my own heart and handed it to him on his way out the door.
The weight of what I’d done pressed down on me, suffocating me, and I cried harder than I had in years.
That was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
Watching him stand there, his voice trembling, practically begging me to give him a chance, had shredded every ounce of resolve I thought I had left.
It took absolutely everything in me not to break down and tell him everything would be okay.
I loved Ryan. God, I loved him so much. The way he loved me, the way he loved Connor, the way he made me feel like I could finally breathe again after everything I’d been through.
But love wasn’t enough–not when trust had been shaken.
My head ultimately won out over my heart, as much as it killed me.
I couldn’t trust my heart anymore; it had led me astray before, and the consequences had nearly destroyed me… nearly killed me.
You’ve made this mistake before, my mind reminded me. Remember Reid. Remember the promises he made. You can’t afford to let yourself believe that again.
I don’t know how long I sat there, drowning in the chaos of my own heart.
The tears wouldn’t stop, streaming until my chest ached, until it felt like my soul was being wrung out.
Then–suddenly–I went still. The tears stopped–not because I found clarity, not because the pain eased, but because I forced myself to believe this was the right choice.
If I kept crying, I wasn’t even sure anymore what I was mourning.
Was it the loss of him? Of us? Or was it the bitter realization that I’d let myself fall for another man who kept things from me, who lied in his silence?
My stomach turned with shame, my throat tight with the question I couldn’t escape: had I been a fool all over again?
The quiet that followed wasn’t peace. It was emptiness. A hollow space where love had been, replaced by the weight of doubt and the sting of my own choices.
That night stretched out in a blur–minutes dragging into hours, sleep coming in restless, broken fragments.
When the sun finally crept through the curtains the next morning, I dragged myself out of bed, exhaustion sinking into my bones like lead.
My body ached from tension, my eyes swollen and raw.
Even breathing felt heavier, like the weight of last night was still pressing down on my chest.
I moved through the motions of getting up, barely registering the world around me. When I checked my phone, there it was–a message from Ryan.
Ryan: Harper, I’m sorry for everything. I should’ve told you sooner, and I hate that I hurt you. Please, don’t shut me out. I love you. We can get through this. I can’t lose you.
I stared at the words for a long time, my heart aching with every single one. A part of me wanted to believe him, to take the comfort in what he was offering. But another part of me was still too raw, too tangled in the hurt to respond. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Instead, I sent a quick text to Nina, letting her know I’d pick up Connor in a few hours.
Then, I turned my phone off, shutting out the world for a little while.
I grabbed my coffee, hands wrapped tightly around the warmth of the mug, hoping it would anchor me.
When I lifted it to my lips, though, the bitterness curled in my stomach, suddenly unbearable.
I set it down, untouched, the thought of finishing it making my chest tighten.
Everything felt off-kilter. Like the ground beneath me had shifted, and I wasn’t sure if I could find my way back to solid ground.
The weight of last night settled heavily on my chest as I sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the sunlight spilling through the window.
Connor was sprawled on the floor, his toy cars lined up in an elaborate racetrack he’d built out of books and cardboard.
He was so at peace, so blissfully unaware of the storm I was about to unleash. My heart twisted painfully.
I swallowed hard. How do I do this?
“Connor, can you come sit with me for a second?”
He glanced up, curiosity flashing in his bright eyes. “Okay!” he bounded up, climbing onto the couch beside me without hesitation.
I took a slow, steadying breath, my hands already trembling in my lap. How do you explain something so complicated to someone so innocent? “Buddy, I need to talk to you about something. It’s… it’s about Ryan.”
His face lit up instantly. “Ryan? Is he coming over tonight? Can we make burgers again? He promised next time he’d teach me that flip thing he does on the grill!”
God, this was going to hurt. “No, sweetheart, he’s not coming over tonight.” My voice cracked slightly, and I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Ryan and I… we’re not going to be together anymore.”
Connor’s brows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean? Like… not together-together?” He hesitated, his voice laced with worry. “But you love Ryan. And he loves us.”
Those words. I’d been bracing myself for them, but hearing them out loud shattered something inside me.
Tears burned the back of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.
“I know, honey. And you’re right, Ryan does love us.
But… sometimes, even when people love each other, things just don’t work out the way we want them to. ”
His confusion shifted, his features scrunching in frustration. “But he’s good to us! He protects us! He loves you, Mom! Why can’t he stay?”
I reached for him, but he pulled away, his hands balling into fists. His breath hitched, and I could see the exact moment realization set in–that no matter how much he fought it, I wasn’t going to change my mind.
His reaction was everything I feared and everything I knew I deserved.
“It’s not that simple,” I said, my voice trembling. “Ryan is a wonderful person, and he cares about us so much. But right now, I have to make decisions that are best for us as a family. And this is… this is what I feel is right.”
“It’s not right!” Connor shouted, tears spilling from his eyes. “Ryan is our family, too! Why are you making him go away?”
That broke me.
My resolve crumbled as I pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly as he sobbed against my chest. His fingers clutched at my shirt like he was trying to hold on to something slipping through his grasp.
Because he was right. Ryan was our family.
Even before we’d put a name on it, he’d been there. Like he’d always belonged. Connor never had to question it. He never wondered where Ryan fit, because to him, Ryan had already been woven into the fabric of our lives.
And now here I was, tearing it apart.
I pressed my lips to Connor’s hair, the weight of it nearly suffocating. “I’m so sorry, baby.” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I know this is hard. I wish I could make it easier.”
He sniffled against me, his whole body trembling. “I just… I just want Ryan back.”
Tears burned down my cheeks as I pressed a kiss to his head. “I know,” I whispered, my voice barely holding it together. “I know you do, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry.”
We sat there for a long time, wrapped around each other, our tears blending into the silence. Eventually, his sobs quieted, and he pulled back just enough to look up at me, his eyes glassy and red-rimmed. “Will I still see him?” His voice was hesitant, so small. “Like at hockey and stuff?”
“You’ll still see him around town, and maybe at hockey,” I told him gently, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. “Ryan will always care about you, Connor. That’s not going to change.”
His lower lip trembled. “But he’s not coming here anymore?”
I shook my head, my throat too tight to speak.
His shoulders curled inward as he pressed his face into my shoulder again, and I held him even tighter. Every word I’d just spoken felt like a betrayal, like I was tearing apart something precious and irreplaceable.
Still, I knew that this was what I had to do–for him, for me, for us. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as doubt and guilt gnawed at the edges of my heart.
The next day came whether I wanted it to or not. The hurt clung like a second skin, heavy and unshakable. Life didn’t pause just because my heart had splintered, though. There was still Connor. Still bills. Still work.
So I kept moving, one step at a time, even when every step felt heavier than the last.
The smell of fresh bread and cinnamon filled the bakery as I slid a tray of cinnamon rolls into the oven. Benny stood across the counter, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he watched me.
I tried to ignore him, focusing on wiping down the worktable. But his presence was impossible to ignore, especially when he was clearly gearing up for one of his “talks”.
“Okay,” he finally said, slamming his hands on the counter for dramatic effect. “Out with it.”
I signed, not looking up. “Out with what, Benny?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Harper. You've been moping around here all morning like someone cancelled Christmas, and it’s depressing. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill,” I said, hoping he’d drop it.
“Uh-huh. Sure.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice like we were sharing a secret. “Is it about Ryan? Because if it’s not, I’m running out of ideas, and that would be devastating for my ego.”
I winced at the mention of Ryan’s name, my heart sinking. I kept my gaze fixed on the table, trying to will away the lump in my throat. “It’s… complicated.”
“Sweetheart, complicated is my middle name,” he said, pulling up a stool and plopping down like he was settling in for a serious conversation. “But you know what’s not complicated? Talking to your fabulously nonjudgmental boss who also happens to give excellent advice.”
I snorted despite myself. “Nonjudgmental? You?”
He gasped, clutching his chest like I’d mortally wounded him. “I am deeply offended. But fine, maybe a little judgmental. Only because I care.”
I hesitated, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Benny was relentless, but he was also one of the few people I trusted with anything resembling the truth.
“It’s over,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Wait, what? You broke up with Ryan? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody? Why?”
I stared down at the counter, trying to steady my breathing. “It’s… a long story.”
“Well, lucky for you, the bakery isn’t exactly hopping right now. And the cinnamon rolls have at least twenty minutes left. So, I’ve got time.”
I took a deep breath and glanced at him, seeing the genuine concern on his face. “It just… didn’t work. I thought I was doing the right thing, for me and for Connor. But it hurts. It all hurts.”
Benny’s expression softened, and he leaned back in his stool, arms crossed. “That’s the thing about love, Harper. It’s not always neat and tidy. Sometimes it’s messy and complicated, and it’s okay to admit it. But you have to know when it’s worth fighting for.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I don’t know if I can fight anymore.”
He studied me for a moment, before his lips curled into a smirk. “Well, I’m going to need more than that. A simple ‘it’s over’ won’t cut it, sweetheart. Not when I know you’re still holding onto something. So, spill the real story.”
I sighed, leaning against the counter. “He lied to me about something. Something big. And I just… I couldn’t deal with it. I needed to protect myself.”
Even as the words left my mouth, a part of me hated them.
Yes, Ryan had lied, but I wasn’t going to turn him into a villain.
It wasn’t my place to out him to anyone, to make him the bad guy just because he kept something from me.
It was his life, his past. He had the right to choose who he shared it with.
Benny tilted his head, his expression softening. “Okay, that’s fair. I get it, trust is everything. But, Harper, do you love him?”
The question made my chest tighten. My mind screamed at me to avoid the truth, to let the walls I’d built hold steady. But the truth slipped out before I could stop it. “Yes.”
“And he loves you. And Connor.”
“Love isn’t always enough, though, Benny,” I said, my voice cracking as I felt the weight of everything crashing down. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”
His gaze softened, and he reached across the counter, placing a flour-dusted hand over mine. “Harper, you’re one of the strongest people I know. But sometimes being strong means letting people in, even when it scares the hell out of you.”
I bit my lip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. “What if I let him in and he lets me down again?”
Benny squeezed my hand, his grip warm and steady. “Then you pick yourself back up, like you always do. But what if he doesn’t let you down? What if he’s worth the risk?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. The thought of putting myself out there again, of letting Ryan back in, was terrifying.
“I just… I think I moved into something too quickly with Ryan,” I muttered, the excuse tasting bitter on my tongue.
Benny shot me a disbelieving look. “Bullshit.”
I blinked, startled. “What?”
“Bullshit,” he repeated, not backing down. “You didn’t move too quickly, Harper. You trusted him. And that’s what you’ve been beating yourself up about ever since you found out about this thing. You don’t get to use ‘too quickly’ as an excuse for feeling hurt.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but his words hit me like a snap. He was right. I had trusted Ryan, and that’s what made the whole situation feel so wrong. But it wasn’t the speed of our relationship that was the problem. It was the trust I thought we had–until it was shattered.