20. Emma
20
Emma
I press my lips together, so my mouth doesn’t fall open with my now-slackened jaw. I’m trying to find words to reply to him, but all I can do is gaze into Ryan’s eyes. I have to say something. He’s just opened himself up and confessed what we both know has been simmering beneath the surface.
Admittedly, I didn’t quite expect such an eloquent expression of how he feels. In fact, I don’t think I’ve given Ryan enough credit for a lot of things. He continues to surprise me, but surely, that’s because I’ve misjudged him. Now, it’s only fair I give him back something in return.
“And I’m looking at a man who has more depth to him than people realize. A man with a reputation for being a bad boy, but beneath that facade, is sweet, and kind, and caring, and tender.”
It’s not great, but it’s the best I have on the spot.
“But is he sweet and kind and caring and tender enough for Emma Carter?” he says, his voice an octave deeper than a moment before. “Because this man doesn’t want anybody else.”
“Ryan… I…”
He places his book and wine down on the table beside him and moves across the sofa towards me. Taking my hands in his, he gazes down at me.
“I know this isn’t what you signed up for,” he breathes. “This was meant to be fake. And at the start, it was, Emma. I promise you that. But something has changed between us. I know you feel it, too.”
I nod a little, pinned under the intensity of his words.
“I’ve been an ass. Okay. I can admit that. But you have made me want to be better. I’m a better man because of you.”
My eyebrows hitch on my forehead.
“You have this calm, sweet serenity about you that settles me,” he continues, “puts me at ease, lets me be myself. I don’t need to wear a mask with you, Emma. You’ve seen the true me, and you still want to be around me.”
“What makes you think others don’t?” I ask.
He sighs. “You’ve seen what it’s like out there. They’re vultures, ready to pounce on your every mistake. Besides, then there’s the money. I don’t even know if they want the real me, or care who I truly am. But you...” He tilts his head and softens his eyes. “You’re none of those things. It kinda works in my favor that you hated me at the beginning.”
“I didn’t hate you,” I reply.
“Sure, you did. And after what I did to you, you have every right to.”
I lift my hand to his face to get his attention. “I didn’t hate you,” I repeat.
He lifts his hand and presses it against mine. His eyes are searching my face, looking for any sign of untruth, but we both know he won’t find any. I haven’t lied to him yet, and I don’t need to now.
“Tell me what you did feel, then,” he says.
I sigh, dropping my hand, trying to figure out how to put what I felt into words. I didn’t hate him, but I had no love for him, either. Let’s face it, carrying a cross of such magnitude for so many years leaves one with a chip on one’s shoulder. Or was it a splinter? Who knows? Either way, it’s only recently that I’ve been able to put that cross down, and the impression from the weight of it is only now smoothing out.
“I disliked you,” I say, trying to be honest without hurting his feelings.
He smirks knowingly. “You can do better than that, Emma. Come on. My skin isn’t that thin.”
“Fine,” I say, though I can feel my face begin to redden at what I’m going to say. “I thought you were an arrogant pig who always got his way. I also thought you were childish and had never grown up.”
Ryan’s beaming smile turns into a hearty chuckle at both my words and my obvious discomfort. “Don’t pull your punches, there, Tyson.”
“You asked,” I protest.
“Yes, I did. And I’m glad. I’m also glad you can be honest with me.”
“I’ve never been anything else,” I quip back.
“I remember. Sending me out of your clinic with my tail between my legs. I’ll bet that felt good, though, right?” He grins.
The smile that’s dancing at the corner of my mouth suddenly blossoms, and I grin back. “Yes, actually. It did.”
“I knew it,” he laughs.
My smile settles a little, though, and I say, “But I was wrong. I didn’t know you. I’d just held on to who I knew you were ten years before.”
He shrugs. “Maybe partly wrong. I don’t always get my own way, even though I try.” He grins again.
I shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
His eyebrows hitch. “That’s a big word for this time of the evening. Did you learn that one from Bernard?” He nods to the book in my lap.
“I’ll have you know; I have a rather extensive vocabulary.”
“In English,” he quips back, his eyes alive with delight.
I roll my eyes. “Well, yes, we can’t all speak Italian.”
“ Non ne hai bisogno. La tua straordinaria bellezza parla per te. ”
“What did you just say?”
He grins. “Exactly what I said the last time.”
I roll my eyes. “Right. Something about your dad killing you if you didn’t pick some of the language up.”
His eyes widen. “Hey, you have a great memory.” Then he looks at me for a long second, his eyes softening and darkening until they’re nearly black. “But that’s not what I said.” His voice is now deep and dreamy, and it makes me catch my breath.
“No?” I breathe, my pulse rising at the way he’s looking at me.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I told you that you didn’t need to speak Italian. That your extraordinary beauty speaks for you.”
I can feel the heat traveling from my neck all the way up to my cheeks as his intense gaze pins me in place. While I’m outwardly still, my heart is thumping against the bones of my ribcage, and the pulse in my neck throbs.
He leans forward and closes the gap between us, his hands clasping my cheeks as his lips brush across mine in the softest, tenderest kiss I’ve ever felt in my life. Every cell in my body tingles, my stomach clenches, and as he pulls away, I’m left completely breathless.
“Wow, Emma,” Ryan breathes, his voice so guttural it sounds like it’s coming from his chest.
While he gazes at me, unabashedly open with his feelings pouring from his soft eyes, I feel a little embarrassed, if not uncomfortable, under his intense gaze.
“It’s getting late,” I say, my voice barely audible as I slide sideways off the sofa.
Ryan looks worried. “I went too far, didn’t I?”
“No. It’s not that,” I say quickly. “I just… It’s just… everything is a bit fast. That’s all. I need some time.”
“Okay,” he says, his voice now several octaves higher and shrouded with doubt.
“Ryan. You did nothing wrong.”
“Okay,” he says, sounding exactly the same as he did three seconds before.
Moving across the room while he stays standing beside the sofa, I finally get to the library door. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” he says again.
I laugh then because he sounds like he’s stuck on repeat, and a second later, I’ve slipped out of the library, and I’m hurrying off to my bedroom.
It’s actually not that late, and as soon as I’ve climbed into bed, I reach for my phone. Five minutes later, Debs, Sharon, and I are on a FaceTime call.
“What’s happened?” Debs demands. “You said this was an emergency meeting. Are you guys getting divorced already?”
“Are you?” Sharon nearly shrieks, her face a picture of horror.
“You’ve got to give it more time,” Debs says. “All this is going to be new for you, Emma, but you’ve got to give it a chance.”
“If I could get a chance to speak,” I say, quickly jutting in and scowling playfully at the screen.
“Oh. Yes. Sorry,” Sharon giggles.
Debs lifts a hand and looks apologetic.
“Thank you,” I say dramatically. “No, we’re not getting a divorce, and actually, this meeting is an emergency for exactly the opposite reason.”
“He asked you out?” Sharon squeals, throwing herself back on her bed. “I knew it. I knew he would.”
While Sharon’s having a seizure, Debs grins knowingly at me. “Told you, chick. You never know where these adventures might lead.”
“Well, right now, it’s leading me down the obvious path of a heart attack,” I gasp. “He just kissed me.”
“Yeees!” Sharon cries, still squealing with excitement.
Debs’s grin gets even bigger, not that I knew that was possible, but clearly, it is. “And?”
I sigh, my face crumpling into blissful delight. “It was the most amazing feeling I’ve ever felt in the history of feeling anything.”
Sharon sits back up having finished her seizure, and stares at the screen. “So, what did you say? Tell me you said yes, Emma. Please. Please tell me you said yes.”
“He didn’t ask yet.”
“Of course he did,” Debs cut in. “He just didn’t use words.”
“Exactly!” Sharon blurts.
“Oh,” I say, feeling like I’ve been out of the game for far too long. “Well, we talked a bit before that. He told me how he felt, and—”
“Which was?” Sharon presses, desperate to get all the juicy details.
I laugh at her and shake my head. “He told me that I had a calm, sweet serenity. That I take his breath away. That being around me has made him a better man. Oh, and that my beauty speaks for itself—only, he said that in Italian.”
“What?” Sharon squeals, throwing herself back on the bed again.
Debs and I are both laughing at her now, as she clearly cannot take the overload of Ryan’s words. Her reaction makes me think how truly sweet his words were, how loving and caring and tender. But nowhere near as tender as that blissful kiss.
Sharon flings herself back off the bed and stares at the screen with the most serious face I’ve seen. “If you don’t go out with this guy, I swear, I’ll kill you myself. You won’t need to worry about a heart attack.”
“So,” I say, taking a deep breath in. “You think I should take a chance?”
“YES!” the two of them yell at the screen.
*****
The following morning, I wake up with a spring in my step. I hardly slept a wink last night, thinking about what I wanted to say to Ryan this morning, but when I get to the dining room, he’s not there. Beatrice then tells me he’s out on the ice, and so, I head to work still excited about what I’m going to say to him. Maybe it’s better that I talk to him this evening. We’ll have more time.
I head into the local store to pick up a newspaper. When I get to the counter, Shirley gives me this deep, sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
My eyebrows pinch together, and I shake my head, feeling confused. “Why? What happened?”
A million things are running through my mind. Has someone I know died? Is Debs okay? Is Sharon okay?
Shirley nods to the paper and says, “Page 15.”
I flick the paper to page 15. A picture of Megan, with her arms wrapped around Ryan, stares up at me. They’re both laughing. She’s wearing that same red dress. And in the background is Clint serving drinks.
The picture was taken at our local bar.