Chapter 18
THEN
Late July
I pushed the door open. ‘Well, this is it. Home,’ I said, with a quiet ripple of pride.
My one-bedroom flat was small, but it was mine.
Ryan set the cases down in the hall as I glanced around, suddenly wishing I’d tidied before I’d left for Malta. But then I’d expected to be returning home alone.
‘Wow,’ he said, already crossing the living room. ‘You can see the sea.’
I smiled, watching him as he stopped at the window completely absorbed by the partial view of Swanage harbour.
Clearly the mess didn’t matter.
‘It’s what we always talked about,’ Ryan said wistfully. ‘Getting our own place with a sea view.’
‘Yeah,’ I replied with a light chuckle. ‘Although it was supposed to be in Malta.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘You still did it, though. Your own place. A sea view.’
My chest swelled with pride at his tone. Impressed. And maybe even a little bit envious.
I’d done it without him.
I wondered if that hurt him. As much as he’d hurt me.
He turned back to face me. ‘I should have been here, with you, working towards this together.’
I tried to shrug. ‘You’re here now,’ I said as though that was all that mattered. It should have been – the past was behind us. Unchangeable. Gone. And yet, it still lingered.
‘What are you thinking?’ Ryan asked as he walked back towards me.
‘Just enjoying having you here.’
He smirked. ‘In your living room?’
‘In my life,’ I said, swatting him playfully with my hand. ‘Besides, it isn’t my living room any more.’
Ryan’s brow creased.
‘It’s ours.’
The word settled between us.
His expression shifted instantly, a wide grin breaking across his face. ‘Ours,’ he repeated. ‘I love the sound of that.’
I nodded. ‘Me too.’
He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me, and I inhaled the sweet coconut scent of his shower gel. I’d missed that when we were apart. It seemed so insignificant. And, yet, so him.
The little things mattered.
Ryan stepped back, reaching for his phone in his pocket. His expression clouded and unreadable. ‘I should probably text Mum, let her know I’m back safe.’
‘Of course,’ I said automatically, but my shoulders slumped.
‘You know how she worries,’ he added, seeing my reaction.
I nodded. I was being unreasonable, I knew that.
‘Are you sure you don’t need to go back to the stables?’ I asked, determined to be more accommodating. ‘Check in on your parents? Pick up some stuff?’
Ryan shook his head.
I wasn’t sure why I’d asked. It wasn’t as though I wanted him to go. Especially not there.
The last two weeks had been like living in a bubble. Just us. Like it used to be. The last thing we needed was his family intervening again.
Things were finally the way they should have been all along, if we hadn’t left Malta for his dad…
Two Years Ago – Mid July
Our suitcases rattled behind us as we dragged them up the slope towards the entrance of Poole Hospital. My free hand was clasped in Ryan’s, his grip tightening until my fingers throbbed.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ I whispered, squeezing back, as though that tiny gesture could make it true.
He nodded, but his grim expression didn’t lift. The closer we’d got to Dorset, the more tension seemed to radiate off him. Even the news that his dad was stable hadn’t eased anything.
I swallowed. At least focusing on supporting Ryan was a distraction from my own anguish at accompanying him on this trip. Given I’d always felt like an inconvenience to my own family, the prospect of meeting his wasn’t appealing.
The automatic doors ahead slid open and a woman in her late forties hurried out. She stopped the moment she saw him.
‘Ryan!’ Her voice cracked as she rushed forward.
Ryan dropped my hand and his suitcase handle without hesitation, stepping into her hug as she reached him. They clung to each other, tight and desperate.
I grabbed the suitcase before it rolled back down the slope, and lingered behind them, unsure where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do. My presence felt like an intrusion.
When they finally pulled apart, her gaze shifted to me, sweeping over me from head to toe in a slow assessing gaze.
‘Oh.’ Ryan blinked, his attention snapping back, as though only just remembering I was there. ‘Mum, this is Kirsty,’ he cleared his throat. ‘My girlfriend.’
Girlfriend. The word landed heavily. Tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding day. And yet, here I was, reduced to just being his girlfriend again.
‘Girlfriend?’ His mum’s voice lifted at the end as if the word itself was a question. She turned back to Ryan, confusion flickering across her face. It was clear she hadn’t been expecting me.
I pushed the suitcase handles together, grasping them in one hand, as I thrust my other towards her. ‘It’s lovely to meet you at last, Mrs Blackwater. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.’
Her gaze dropped to my outstretched hand. She stared at it for a fraction too long before reaching out. Her fingers barely brushed mine before she withdrew again.
Had a handshake been too formal? Especially here, now? Should I have hugged her? The thought alone made my stomach tighten. My family had never been ones for hugging and showing affection. Distance had always felt safer. A lot of distance.
Or maybe it was the word ‘lovely’. That didn’t fit here. Not outside a hospital. Not with her husband on a ward somewhere inside.
She turned back to Ryan, linking her arm through his as she pivoted them towards the entrance. ‘We need to get you upstairs to see your dad. Visiting hours end soon.’
I fumbled with the cases and trailed along behind them.
‘There’s a café just inside,’ she called to me over her shoulder. ‘Why don’t you wait there for a bit? We’ll find you later.’
I nodded quickly. ‘Yeah, sure. Thanks.’
My pace slowed as we stepped inside, my gaze drifting, searching for the café, while they continued down the corridor without pausing.