Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ryder
I wake to the muted light of morning seeping through the curtains. But it’s not the light that drags me out of sleep. It’s the quiet.
The absence of the noise I’m used to, and the strange calm that comes from being here, in this room.
Her room.
For a moment, I lie there, still, trying to ignore the way my thoughts keep drifting back to last night.
To the way she felt against me, the way she looked at me, the way her laughter, honest, unguarded, echoed in my head long after we’d said goodbye to the ice rink and all that ridiculous holiday cheer.
I wasn’t supposed to get caught up in it. I wasn’t supposed to get caught up in her.
But here I am.
She’s asleep beside me, her body half-tangled in the sheets, her curls spilling over her face. She looks so damn peaceful, so effortless in the way she lets go.
It’s… almost maddening. I haven’t had peace in years. Not in this way.
Tinsel is curled in a ball at the foot of the bed, paws twitching in some dream I can’t share, which brings a small smile to my face.
I should leave. I should get up, get dressed, and walk out. No goodbyes. No promises. I don’t need this.
But then I see her, see how soft she is, how vulnerable, how completely unaware of the turmoil she’s caused inside me, and I’m paralyzed for a second.
It’s as if I’ve slipped into someone else’s life, someone else’s skin, and for a moment, it’s… nice.
But then the phone rings. It’s sharp, sudden, cutting through the quiet.
I glance down at the screen, my chest tightening instinctively when I see Nolan’s name flash up. Nolan doesn’t call unless it’s urgent. And the last thing I need right now is another problem to fix.
But of course, that’s exactly what I get.
I swipe the call, and his voice comes through, frantic and clipped. “Ryder, I need you down here. Now.”
I don’t even need to ask. My gut twists, and I’m already standing from the bed before he can say another word.
“What’s going on?”
Nolan’s silence stretches. “It’s… not good news.”
I grit my teeth together. “Nolan, what is it?”
“It’s… your mother. She’s here.”
My heart stutters, and for a moment, everything freezes. The ground beneath me seems to shift. My stomach twists into a knot so tight I can barely breathe.
Elaine. She can’t be here. Not now. Not when I’m trying to keep this hotel together. Not when I’ve finally found something worth fighting for.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to keep it together, but the air is suddenly suffocating, and I feel sweat beading on the back of my neck.
Nolan continues, barely above a whisper. “She’s arrived unannounced. At the hotel. We—”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, my hand instinctively gripping the edge of the desk hard.
My mind reels.
The flood of memories rushes in. A nightmare of her manipulations, her incessant need to control everything in her orbit. She was a storm I never asked to be caught in, but somehow, she found me every time.
I thought I was done with her. Figured I could escape the web of lies and expectations she wove around me. But here she is, crashing through the door again.
I stand there, unsure whether I want to scream or shut down completely. The reality is too much. Too fucking much.
“Shit.” I rub my temple, trying to stave off the headache already forming. “I’ll be down in five minutes. Keep her in the lobby.”
“Understood.”
I hang up without another word. I stand there for a moment, letting the situation sink in. The calm that I had just a minute ago evaporates.
This is not the day I planned.
I shove my hands into my pockets. The last thing I want to do is face her. I didn’t come here for this. I didn’t come here to be dragged back into the mess that she’s always been.
But I don’t have a choice.
I must deal with her. I have to deal with the one person in this world who has the power to unravel me in ways I can’t even explain.
And I have to do it all while pretending I’ve got it together.
It’s the price of the life I’ve built. A life I never asked for. A life that’s still just as fragile as the person I’ve always tried not to be.
I slip out of Sunny’s room as quietly as I can, the situation settles in the pit of my stomach. I could’ve stayed there forever, … breathing in the scent of her, pretending everything outside those four walls didn’t matter.
But then the phone rang. And everything came rushing back.
I take a deep breath, the decision hanging over me as I tiptoe out of the room. I can’t let her anywhere near Sunny. Not when things between us are still new and fragile.
I’ve had enough of her games and manipulations to last a lifetime, and I’ll be damned if I let her ruin something I’m starting to care about.
There she is.
My mother stands at the center of the lobby, her presence already too much. The sleek cream coat hugs her figure just so, and the pristine color sums her up perfectly.
She’s a polished machine. Perfectly put together, styled with the kind of care only a former stage mom could understand. Even her hair, too perfect to be natural, gleams under the soft light.
There’s no warmth in her expression, not even a flicker of understanding, just that look of perfection that somehow makes everything a performance.
And I hate it.
When she spots me, her smile widens into a saccharine grin that makes my stomach turn. She strides over, ignoring the cold distance between us, and leans in to kiss my cheek.
I flinch, but I don’t pull away. I never have.
“Ryder,” she purrs, “it’s so good to see you again. It’s been far too long, has it not?”
The kiss lingers for a moment too long, and I can feel the tension running under her skin, a wire waiting to snap. I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s always been good at making me feel this way.
Small. Worthless when I’m not doing what she wants.
“Mother,” I manage, cold as I can. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes twinkle with that knowing look, the one that means she’s already made her move.
“Oh, I saw the latest drama online,” she says, waving a manicured hand in the air. “The buzz about the hotel, the legacy of the Christmas Prince… There’s a lot of potential here, darling. It’s all about the brand, you know?”
My jaw tightens. I don’t need to hear this. I don’t want to.
“I’ve already reached out to a producer,” she continues, her eyes gleaming. “We’ve got an opportunity, Ryder. A reunion movie. You know how the public loves a comeback.”
A reunion movie.
The memories come crashing back, sharp and jagged: endless hours in front of cameras, forced smiles, the way she pushed me too hard, always too hard.
The years spent building something for her, not for me, the way she mismanaged every cent I earned as a child.
It was never about the money. It was about control. It was about maintaining her image, her status.
And now, here she is again, trying to drag me back into that world, trying to make me relive everything I left behind.
I take a breath, pushing down the anger that flares up. I’ve worked too damn hard to let her pull me back into her games.
“No,” I snap firmly, cutting through the layers of her sugary charm. “The hotel is my priority now. I’m not doing a reunion movie.”
Elaine’s smile falters, but only for a second. She recovers quickly, that practiced mask sliding back into place, her eyes narrowing.
“Oh, Ryder,” she says, dripping with false sweetness. “You really don’t understand, do you? This could be good for you. You’ve been hiding away, playing businessman while your fans—our fans—are dying for more.”
I shake my head. “Mom, I haven’t acted for years. This is my job now.”
She scoffs as her eyes flicker with an anger I recognize all too well.
“You don’t get it, Ryder,” she continues, her tone sweet but edged with something insidious. “You’ve been running this hotel, playing at being a grown-up, but it’s not who you are. You were made for the spotlight. You need this. We need this.”
I almost laugh, but it comes out as a dry, humorless sound. The spotlight. The fame. The years of grinding, smiling for the camera, and doing everything she wanted.
I’m done with it, done with her, and done with the chains she used to wrap around me.
But before I can say anything more, I catch a glimpse of movement in my peripheral vision. My heart drops into my stomach.
It’s Sunny.
I failed.
She’s standing in the lobby, a few paces behind Elaine, her hand resting on the counter as she looks between the two of us. I can see the concern in her eyes, her posture tense as if she’s sensing the storm brewing in the air.
She must have overheard Elaine’s arrival and our conversation.
I feel a wave of guilt wash over me. I never wanted her to see this side of my life. The side that’s broken, messy, and filled with too many ghosts.
And now… now, she’s caught in it.
I quickly glance back at Elaine, but her gaze is already flicking over to Sunny. It’s a look of pure judgment, the kind that says she’s assessing Sunny, dissecting her in the way only a stage mom could.
Elaine takes in Sunny’s casual, laid-back appearance, the sweater, the messy hair, the lack of any real effort, and I can feel the disapproval radiating from her.
She straightens up, adjusts her coat, reining in her irritation, and then, as if performing for an invisible audience, she turns to me. Her smile, still sugary, doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Ryder, darling,” she says, tainted with condescension. “Why don’t we go have lunch? We can talk more about your future, and maybe I can help you see the bigger picture here.”
I can see the look on Sunny’s face now. The hurt. The confusion. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but she can sense the tension in the air.
And I hate myself for dragging her into this.
I want to stay. I want to explain everything to her, tell her how much I don’t want to be that person anymore. But Elaine’s already pulling me away, her hand on my arm, her grip insistent.
I glance back at Sunny as I let Elaine lead me toward the door, her eyes wide with a mixture of concern and something else I can’t quite read.
I wish I could fix it. Wish I could pull her into this moment and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about her. But I can’t. Not yet.
Not with my mother here.