28. Ryan
RYAN
I t’s Friday morning and I haven’t heard from Mal since he left work to meet up with Kaylin Thursday, but that’s how I wanted it.
I asked him not to reach out—told him I’d see him today.
I turned my phone off so he couldn’t text or call me.
Why? Because I’m psycho, and I can’t get the image of that engagement ring out of my head.
I figured if I knew I wasn’t going to hear from him, then I wouldn’t drive myself nuts waiting and wondering.
It’s not because I think he was going to propose to her last night—but because at some point he was planning to propose . It’s safe to say my trust, such as it is, has been stretched to its outermost limits, but it’s hanging in there.
Would it be so fucking difficult for him to at least be on time this morning, though? Of all mornings? Jesus.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” Piper asks, unexpectedly taking a seat next to me at the conference room table.
I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this. Bailey cut out the neck kiss and me calling him baby, but there was enough in the video of Malcolm’s fall to prove one thing at least—I have more than a passing interest in his well-being.
In my defense, I’ve seen too many movies and TV shows where a fall to the ground cracked a skull, and in the moment I ran over to him, the first thing I was looking for was blood pooling around his head, signaling the end.
Piper however, whether she realizes it or not, gave something away with the question. “Do you use your own money to subscribe to our Patreon or the group cash? Either way, we appreciate the support.”
She sidesteps my dig. “I just wonder what Jonathan would think about fraternization…”
“Do you? So, you and Nathan never…” I make a lewd gesture with my hands.
Her mouth twists into an unpretty shape. “Who told you that? They’re full of shit.”
Apparently not.
“What are we talking about?” Bailey asks, taking her seat on my other side, her eyes on my hands.
“Fraternization,” I tell her.
“Fun,” she says.
Piper rises without a sound and moves to sit in her usual spot next to Lisette.
Just then, Malcolm walks through the door.
He’s not wearing one of his sluttier suits, and that’s the first thing I notice, but then I remember he spent last night at his place—theoretically—and maybe all his newer looks are still in my closet.
The second thing I see are the dark circles under his eyes, betraying a lack of sleep, and as he gets closer, I notice the puffiness of his eyelids.
Like he’s recently spent a hell of a lot of time crying.
Before I have time to ask him anything, Georgie breezes in and starts talking before they’re even sitting.
“Sorry folks, this’ll be brief. We have company today, and I have another conference to get to.
There’s a shareholders’ meeting this afternoon, so the senior investors and analysts are all here to make presentations.
If your mentors are okay with it, you’re welcome to sit in, and please make your own introductions. Any questions?”
We all, to some degree, look at each other. I barely understand a word Georgie just said, but I blame that on Malcolm and my urgent need to talk to him. But before I can, Isla appears in the doorway of the conference room and gestures for him to get up and come with her.
He and I share a look. “Later,” he mouths, and he looks fucking miserable.
It’s not the first time one of the mentors dragged us out of the huddle early, but it’s the first time Isla’s taken Malcolm. I can only assume she’s got one of the earlier presentations.
He gets up and goes with her. Bailey says, “Would have been nice if they gave us a heads up about this say—any other time than this morning.”
“Yeah.” I pick up my bag and push my chair back from the table.
I’m already cursing my own stupidity for icing Malcolm out last night.
In retrospect, there was no good reason for it.
What if he needed to talk? Or needed to see me?
Why couldn’t I have just assumed he was going to do what he said he was planning to do rather than have some last minute change of heart?
Charlie’s at the common room worktable, looking chill. Malcolm and Isla aren’t there. “You don’t have one of these presentations?” I ask, taking my spot next to him.
He chuckles. “No. But I’m helping Jess with hers later. You’re welcome to sit in.”
“Thanks,” I tell him before picking up some work I was doing yesterday and trying my best to concentrate while the room is buzzing with tension and more conversation than usual.
With at least twenty tabs opened on my browser, I’m zoned in on a market analysis for a small business client when I feel a light tap on my shoulder .
I turn and look up, then I nearly come out of my skin with shock.
“Hi,” Norah says softly.
I’m standing before I can make any words come out, the instinct to hug her overriding any sense of where we are or what’s appropriate. She laughs as I put my arms around her, and she hugs me back.
The smell of her transports me immediately back to Portland nights. Sitting next to her in a cafe, across from her in her office, watching a movie with her on her couch after a study group broke up for the night.
Remembering where we are, I pull away and take a look at her. Her dark hair is thick and straight but styled with a soft wave at her shoulders. It’s glossy, and I remember the one time I kissed her, the way the strands slid through my fingers like silk.
Her big brown eyes are large and round, lined with long lashes.
She has perfect pale, rosy skin and glossy burgundy lips.
She’s in a pencil skirt and a white silk blouse with tiny black polka-dots that I remember.
It makes me realize it really hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen her. A few months.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I ask.
“I didn’t know until two days ago, and then I thought it might be a fun surprise.”
“I’m surprised,” I say, still taking her in. This is?—
Not good, actually.
I mean—it doesn’t have to be bad, but it’s definitely less than ideal. I haven’t been exactly straightforward with her about how I’ve been spending my time outside of work and the challenge. And I haven’t been exactly honest with Malcolm about how often she and I talk.
I know she’s seen the TikToks, and she might have thrown us a bone by subscribing to the Patreon, but I haven’t told her about Mal.
Or me and Mal. While the tone of our conversations has been a lot less future focused, especially over the last two weeks—more friendly—the last thing I told Mal about her was that she was where I saw my future.
And with her here…
“Hey, Norah. How’s it going?” Charlie asks from behind me.
I step out of the way so they can talk.
“Great! Did you know Ryan was a student of mine during my year at PSU?”
“I wondered if the two of you crossed paths.” To me he says, “Norah was in my internship.”
“Oh yeah? That’s cool.” I say like she didn’t tell me that day one of this job.
“Would you mind a lot if I borrow Ryan for the day?” she asks him.
I stiffen at that. I’m not sure why the idea of spending the day working with her is such a threat, but it feels existential. There’s a reason I’ve been slow to commit to anything ongoing with Malcolm, and while Kaylin was a big part of it, Norah is arguably the bigger one.
Choosing between two people is one thing, but choosing between two entirely different lives is another.
Up until very recently, my plans for the end of the summer hadn’t been in question.
I was convinced what Mal and I were doing together would run its course.
He’d freak out, get bored, or otherwise back away, and I relied on this back up plan to keep myself from feeling anything too deeply.
It’s really only been in the last week or so that I’ve found myself leaning into him.
Allowing myself to imagine a future with him at the center of it.
But that engagement ring—the reality of Norah. How safe she feels even now—when I know I’m not in love with her.
The truth is I’ve only ever been in love with the idea of her. The idea of starting over and leaving the past behind.
Mal is a risk. He’s like the living embodiment of risk.
He changes his mind, he moves onto the next thing, he goes hard and gives up so fast it can make heads spin.
I’m not even sure I’d call him stable. Not that I think he needs to be committed or anything, but if I only look at the last month—how he went from insulting me to attaching himself to me on the turn of a dime…
Don’t second guess him , I tell myself firmly. But the other voice in my head that’s staring at Norah is saying, don’t be an idiot.
“Sure—take him. Teach him something useful. As you know, you’re in good hands, Ryan.”
“Yeah,” I tell Charlie. “Thanks.”
Norah smiles up at me, her eyes shining. “Shall we?”
I swallow nervously and nod. As she walks, and I follow, I glance around the room, only to find Malcolm’s heavy-lidded aquamarine eyes trailing me.
The look on his face puts me through a wringer of guilt.
He’s got no idea who this is, but the next time I see him, he’ll have probably found out. And then what?
Meanwhile, Norah is speaking. “They gave me a tiny little office to set up in. I’m presenting at two. I don’t know if you’ll actually learn anything, but you can listen to me stress.”
I have to look away from Mal as I turn down a hallway with her. As soon as no one is around, she slips an arm around my waist and walks close. I reflexively do the same. “Good to see you,” she says.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just really surprised.”
“Good surprised, I hope.”
“Yeah, I mean…you look great.”
She laughs. “So do you. I’ve been watching your videos of course, but in person, it just takes it all up a notch.”
“Ha. Thanks.”
“Are you guys raking in the cash or what?”
“Kind of. ”
“You think you’ll win?”
“I’m pretty sure.”