Chapter 10 #2
Ryan nodded once, already moving toward the door. “Let’s go.”
The park was quiet under the moonlight, swings creaking faintly in the cold breeze. Taylor’s boots crunched on the gravel path as she led the way toward the old stone fountain at the center. Its basin was cracked, water shut off for the winter, but the place was thick with memories.
She crouched, fingers brushing the underside of the ledge, and found a huge manila envelope taped there. She pulled it free and tore it open.
Inside was a small glass jar filled with pennies, a folded note tucked against the lid.
“Every wish counts, even the ones you never say aloud.”
Taylor’s throat tightened. She sat on the fountain’s edge, turning the jar in her hands, watching the copper coins glint in the lamplight. “We used to come here all the time,” she whispered. “Emma and I would throw pennies and make the dumbest wishes.”
Ryan sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. He plucked a penny from the jar and held it up. “And what did you wish for?”
She smiled faintly. “That Emma would pass her math class. That I’d get a dog. That my mom would…you know, get better.” Her voice trailed off.
Ryan’s jaw flexed. “I remember. You always tossed your penny in so fast no one could see what you wished for.”
Taylor looked at him, surprised. “You noticed that?”
He dropped the penny into her hand. “I noticed everything, Taylor.”
Her chest tightened so painfully she almost couldn’t breathe. She turned the penny over in her palm, then flicked it into the fountain’s dry basin. It clinked against the stone and rolled into the corner.
Ryan took another penny and studied it. His voice was softer now, vulnerable in a way she’d never heard before. “You want to know what I wished for?”
Taylor’s throat went dry. “What?”
He tossed the coin, watched it spin into the basin. “That I’d figure out how to stop wanting what I couldn’t have.”
The air between them pulsed, heavy and alive.
Taylor gripped the jar tighter, her heart pounding. “Did it work?”
Ryan turned to her, eyes dark, voice low. “Not even close.”
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the winter wind rattling the bare branches above. Taylor’s breath came shallow, her pulse thudding like the echo of every wish she had ever whispered into this fountain.
Ryan’s words hung heavy in the air. Not even close.
Her fingers trembled against the glass jar.
She wanted to say something witty, something to cut through the gravity of the moment, but all she could do was look at him.
The hard lines of his face softened in the lamplight, his jaw taut with restraint, his eyes locked on hers with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “Ryan…”
And then his hand was at her cheek, warm and sure, tilting her face toward his. She had a split second to see the decision in his eyes, the way his walls cracked open, before his mouth was on hers.
The kiss was fierce, nothing tentative about it. Years of frustration, denial, and unspoken longing poured out in the press of his lips. Taylor gasped against him, her hands clutching his jacket, pulling him closer even as her heart spun out of control.
The cold night vanished. The cracked fountain, the empty park, the jar of pennies — all of it faded until there was nothing but the heat of him, the steady strength of his arms around her, the wild rush of finally having what she had once only wished for.
When he pulled back, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting together, neither ready to let go.
“For the record, I also made a second wish over and over again.”
“What was that?” she asked.
“That someday I’d be able to come back here and kiss you like this. Hold you like this.”
Taylor pulled back just far enough to look at him, her breath mingling with his in the cold night air. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his jacket, grounding herself, because what she was about to ask had lived in her chest for years.
“Did you know?” she whispered.
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Know what?”
“How much I cared for you. Back then. In high school.” She swallowed, her voice trembling. “You had to know. I was terrible at hiding it.”
His jaw tightened, eyes shadowed in the glow of the lamppost. He didn’t answer right away, and that told her more than words could.
Taylor’s throat ached. “So if you knew…why did you act like I was invisible? Why did you brush me off like I was nothing? Why did you—” her voice cracked “—why did you leave me?”
Ryan closed his eyes, exhaling a long, rough breath. His hands stayed firm on her, one at her cheek, the other resting on her waist, as if he was afraid she’d slip away if he let go.
“You weren’t nothing, Taylor,” he said finally, his voice low and hoarse. “You were everything I couldn’t let myself want.”
Her chest clenched. “Because of Emma?”
He nodded once. “She was my kid sister. You were her best friend. I was already the older guy, already leaving for college. You were seventeen. I told myself the best thing I could do was stay away. Pretend I didn’t see it.” His mouth twisted. “Pretend I didn’t feel it.”
Taylor’s heart slammed. “You felt it?”
Ryan’s gaze locked with hers, unflinching.
“Of course I did. I wanted you, Taylor. God, I wanted you so bad it scared the hell out of me. But you deserved better than me at the time I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, and I knew I couldn’t take you with me.
For me, it would always be you, but you deserved to experience more than just me. ”
Her breath hitched, hot tears stinging her eyes. “So you thought leaving me behind was better?”
“I thought it was the only way to protect you.” His voice broke, the honesty raw. “I thought I’d ruin you if I stayed. And then…I kept going. Deployment after deployment. Orders. Operations. I told myself you’d move on, that it was better for you if I stayed gone.”
Taylor shook her head, her voice fierce through the tears. “You didn’t protect me. You hurt me. Do you have any idea how small I felt when you wouldn’t even look at me? How stupid I felt for wanting you?”
Ryan’s thumb brushed a tear from her cheek, his own expression pained. “You were never stupid. I was the coward. I left because I was too scared of what it meant if I stayed.”
The words cracked something open inside her. The years of silence, the ache of being unseen, the longing she’d buried. And suddenly she was kissing him again, desperate and fierce, because no explanation could erase the hurt, but the truth at least made the wanting real.
When they broke apart, gasping, Taylor pressed her forehead to his. “Don’t leave again.”
Ryan’s grip tightened at her waist. His answer came without hesitation. “I won’t.”