25. Alice #2
I need air. I walk across the back patio, through the grass, and down to the dock.
Rain pelts down, instantly soaking my clothes, and the wind never ceases, constantly blowing.
It’s not nighttime, but the sky is thick with heavy clouds, I can barely see across the lake.
The lake is troubled with thousands of whitecaps, and it’s as dark as the sky above it.
I tilt my head back and suck in the air through deep gasps.
“Alice, what are you doing?” Ryder calls, then I hear the thwacking sounds of him jogging down the dock toward me. When he reaches me, his hands go to my shoulders, and he looks me over for damage. “Al?”
“I. Can’t. Breathe.”
He sees the tears, and his face drops. “Hey, hey. Okay. I’ve got you.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. Being close to him, feeling his warmth, smelling that fresh, clean linen smell makes me cry harder. “You’re okay.” He rubs my back.
I press my face against him. “I’m not okay.”
He tucks his head next to mine. “You have to tell me what’s going on so I know how to fix it.”
How is he okay right now? Doesn’t having me in his space make him feel something as well? All those conversations we had when we were younger. I wasn’t the only one who dreamed of our future, was I?
“This hurts, Ryder. It hurts so much.”
“What hurts?” He pulls back, separating us but keeping his hands on my shoulders, and looks me over again. Water is dripping off the ends of his hair, the tip of his nose, and the center of his chin.
“Being here,” I say through a sob, waving my hand at him and then back toward the house.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with the house?” His expression turns pained as I’ve just hurt his feelings, but the truth is he’s unknowingly again hurt mine.
“Nothing is wrong with the house. It’s perfect, and it’s beautiful, and it’s lovely, and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and .
. . and it has nothing to do with me. It’s not mine.
It’s not ours.” My chest feels like it’s cracking open.
I loved him, and I wanted this with him so badly.
“You have this whole life that I know nothing about. A life that I thought was going to be mine too, and it’s not.
I know you probably think I’m being ridiculous, since we went our separate ways, but Ryder, this still hurts.
” I curl my hands into my chest and up under my chin as I continue to cry.
My arms are tucked in tight, it’s all I know to do without completely becoming undone.
“You think I didn’t want that life, too?
Did you think I bought this house without you in mind?
Every-fucking-thing that I’ve ever done has had you in mind.
What college would make Alice happy for me?
What degree do I think she would think is the most admirable?
I told her I was going to make it to the NFL.
Is she proud of me? I’d better buy a house on our lake because that’s what we talked about, and I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.
Maybe if I keep this old truck, I’ll be able to keep our memories just a little bit longer.
Would Alice like this color of paint I’ve picked out?
If I keep Felix, would Alice feel like the three of us are a family? Every. Thing.”
“I don’t understand. You hated me. You were very adamant about that and let everyone know it. How could you have been thinking about me, too?”
He leans down, wrapping his hands around the sides of my face so we’re eye to eye.
“Yes, I was wounded, and yes, I lashed out, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t always present in my mind.
You’ve always been this ever-present subconscious voice.
Half the time I wanted to be fucking rid of you, and the other half I clung so hard because I think I always knew our paths would cross again.
Al, I’ve never told anyone this, but I prayed every night that Tampa would take me.
I knew you’d be here, and I desperately wanted to be here too.
You’ve always achieved the goals you’ve set out.
And Alice, I know this makes me the biggest fool on the planet, but I needed this.
I needed us to collide. I needed to know what went wrong, what I could have done differently, and if there is even the slightest possibility of something more, I need to try.
I can’t move on. I don’t want to move on. ”
At this admission, he lets my face go, stands up straight, laces his fingers behind his head, and looks up toward the dark sky.
His chest is rapidly rising and falling, the fabric is plastered to his skin, and my heart is stuttering as it’s suddenly decided it needs to change its rhythm.
A rhythm that’s calling out to match his.
The rain splashes down, the wind has really started to pick up, and while I should be worried about flying debris, all I see is him.
“You wanted to try? With me?”
His head and his arms drop as he looks at me, and his entire countenance screams exhausted. His eyes are also filled with tears, and his chin quivers as he says to me, “How do you still not know how much I love you?”
He loves me.
He still loves me.
All around us, the world is spinning, but with Ryder, I may as well be standing in the eye of the storm.
We stare at each other as tears, walls, and misunderstandings blow away.
If there’s one thing I know about Ryder, it’s that he’s not a liar.
He has never lied to me, and I know deep in my soul he never will.
He says he loves me, and with every fiber of my being, I believe him, and my heart soars.
Through broken sobs, I tell him, “The paint color is the most perfect paint color ever.”
He lets out a guttural sound as he again wraps his hands around my face, and then his lips slam down on mine.