Chapter 44 #2
Connor tugged on Ryan’s sleeve. “So, can you help us?”
Ryan glanced at me, silently asking for permission. His gaze was steady, his question clear. But the air felt heavy, suffocating. My throat tightened as Connor’s hopeful eyes turned to me, amplifying the weight of my next words.
I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay strong. “We’ll figure it out Connor,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Let’s not bother Ryan.”
“But he’s not bothered!” Connor protested, his voice rising in frustration.
“Connor,” I said firmly, though my chest felt like it was caving in. “We’ll handle it, okay?”
Ryan straightened, his expression unreadable. “Good luck with the pyramid, buddy,” he said, reaching out to clasp Connor on the shoulder.
Connor huffed, clearly disappointed. “Thanks, Ryan,” he mumbled.
Ryan’s eyes met mine again, lingering for a second longer than necessary. “Take care,” he said quietly before turning and walking away.
I stood there for a moment, my heart twisting painfully as I watched him go. Connor was already tugging at my hand, pulling me toward the exit.
We left without supplies, the weight of the encounter pressing down on me. I could feel the tears threatening to fall, but I refused to let them. Not in front of Connor. He needed me to be strong, not to crumble under pressure.
In the car, Connor crossed his arms, staring out the window. “Why couldn’t Ryan help?” he asked, his voice laced with frustration.
“Because we can figure it out ourselves,” I said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“But he knows how to build stuff,” Connor argued. “And he’s nice. And he loves you. And me. Why can’t he help?”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “I know he does,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Connor didn’t say anything else, but his disappointment hung heavy in the air. By the time we got home, I felt completely drained, every step feeling like it took twice the effort.
Upstairs, Connor quietly pulled out paper and markers, starting on a rough draft of his pyramid. I watched him from the doorway, my heart aching. I wanted to comfort him, to explain everything, but how could I when I wasn’t even sure I fully understood it myself?
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, nudging me awake. I stretched and dragged myself out of bed, the ache in my chest still lingering like a bruise. After throwing on a sweater, I shuffled toward the front door, needing the crisp morning air to clear my head.
When I opened the door, I froze.
Sitting on the front step was a small box and a folded note, tucked neatly on top. My heart stuttered as I picked up the note.
Harper,
I know yesterday was awkward and hard, and I didn’t want to overstep. But I also didn’t want to leave Connor empty handed. Inside the box, there’s a list of supplies and a little prototype of what his pyramid could look like. It’s just an idea–something to guide him.
Let me know if you need anything else.
- Ryan
I set the note down and opened the box, my breath catching as I pulled out a miniature Aztec pyramid.
It was carefully crafted from foam and painted a muted stone-grey, complete with stairs leading up to a small temple at the top.
Next to it was a detailed list of supplies, with little notes about why each was included.
The lump in my throat grew as guilt settled over me like a weight. Yesterday, I’d panicked. Seeing him had hurt too much, and I’d let that dictate my actions. I should have let him help.
Connor would’ve loved this.
I carried the box inside and placed it on the kitchen table, sitting down and staring at it for a moment. My heart ached at the thought of Ryan spending his evening doing this for Connor, even after I’d turned him away.
Ryan wasn’t just trying to help; he was showing me that he cared about us, in the way he knew how. And I’d pushed him away. I’d been so focused on protecting myself–so afraid of being hurt again–that I hadn’t stopped to think about what Connor really needed.
I stared at the little pyramid, guilt twisting in my stomach. He hadn’t asked for anything in return. He didn’t need to do this. Still, he had, and that made it harder to ignore the nagging voice in my head. Why had I been so stubborn?
And then there was Connor. He’d been so excited about Ryan helping with the pyramid project, so hopeful that Ryan would be a part of it.
I’d seen the way his face lit up when he saw Ryan in the store yesterday, how disappointed he’d been when I told him no.
I hadn’t stopped to think that, even though I was trying to protect myself, I was also protecting Connor from what–exactly?
The truth was, I didn’t want him caught in the middle of something neither of us fully understood yet.
Ryan wasn’t just someone who’d come into our lives and made things harder, though.
He was someone who cared about both of us, even when it wasn’t easy.
Without overthinking it, I grabbed my phone and typed out a quick text.
Harper: Hey. Thanks for the supplies and everything. Connor’s going to love it. Would you like to come over after his hockey game today to help him with it? I wouldn’t mind running to the gym and getting groceries while you two work.
I hesitated before hitting send, my finger hovering over the screen. This felt like a small crack in the wall I’d built, but it didn’t feel wrong.
I didn’t know what would come of this. I didn’t know if Ryan and I would ever get back to where we once were. But maybe, this was a step in the right direction–at least for him and Connor.
With a deep breath, I pressed send.
After a bit, my phone buzzed with his reply.
Ryan: I’d love to. What time should I come by?
Harper: Around 3? I’ll let Connor know.
Ryan: Perfect. Thank you, Harper.
The speed of his response made me smile, a warmth I hadn’t felt in days spreading through my chest. I rested my phone on the counter, my eyes drifting back to the prototype. The ache in my chest was still there, but for the first time in days, it didn’t feel quite so suffocating.