It was almost as if she expected me to judge her, to shun her for something well beyond her control.
“I just think, if we’re going to do this, you should know. Some days are hard for me. Some days, I’m going to need reassurance that we’re okay, and not because of anything you did or didn’t do.”
It broke my bloody heart.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assure her. “And, the night’s not over yet. There’s plenty of time to celebrate.”
Right on cue, the car pulls up to the curb, stopping right in front of us.
“Where did you come from, Ryan West?” she asks with a smile, leaning up and pressing the softest kiss on my lips before dipping down into the seat.
“London.” I wink, closing the door before making my way around the side of the car. “Come on, love. Let’s go home.”
32
Carina
The sound of the doorbell ringing, followed immediately by abrupt, loud knocking on my front door, wakes me.
Lina is the first person that comes to mind. Panicking, I reach over for my phone.
No missed calls.
“Oh, God,” I groan, clutching my head. Maybe the glasses of limoncello when we got back to the house weren’t such a smart idea after all. I can’t remember the last time I felt hungover. All I know is that, right now, I need an Italian sub with extra pickles and the person on the other side of the door better be fucking dying.
Stumbling, I pull a pair of sweatpants over my bare legs. I reach into my dresser next, blindly grabbing the T-shirt on top. Looking down, I laugh when I see it’s the shirt I bought to wear to the Jonas Brothers concert Lina and I went to last year.
“Fuck it.”
At the sound of another set of rapid knocks, I begin to sprint down the hallway.
How the fuck Ryan is sleeping through all this commotion is beyond me.
After I unlock the door, I swing it open, ready to curse out the person on the other side. Instead, my stomach drops. Then, it flips.
With his hand raised as if I’ve met him mid-knock, Richard sighs with relief at the sight of me. His jet black hair is ruffled and unkempt. A far stretch from the perfectly polished combed-back look I’ve seen every time we’ve happened to cross paths over the last few years.
“Richard?” I ask, rubbing my eyes to make sure I’m seeing things correctly. Sure enough though, when I remove my hands from my face, he’s still standing there. His black Escalade is parked right in front of the walkway that leads directly to the front door. “What are you doing here?”
After the initial shock wears off, I shiver. The cool October air sends a chill right down the middle of my spine, my bare feet already tingling from the sudden change in temperature.
“It’s Saturday,” he says, as if that explains everything. When I continue to look at him blankly, he says, “Our breakfast date?”
“You think after last night I’d go anywhere with you? Really, Richard? You should have at least called first,” I say. “We could’ve done this whole thing without you banging on my door before the fucking sun rose.”
“I had to see you. I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Well, great.” I shrug, anxious to get back into my warm bed. With Ryan. “Apology accepted. Now, if you don’t mind—”
“Can I come in for a minute?” he asks, pushing past me and into the house.
From the outside, there’s no indication that Ryan is here too. The only vehicle in the driveway is mine.
This conversation isn’t about Lina.
Richard and I are not friends.
Fuck, I’d say a good ninety-five percent of the time, I actually can’t stand him. Any amount of civility given to him is purely for Lina’s sake.
“No.” I shake my head. A few months ago, I probably would have said yes, even if it made me uncomfortable. Even though I knew it would have been a bad choice.
Any romantic feelings I had for him left years ago, but no matter how bad things were between us, there had always been a glimmer of hope we would be able to work past everything and, at the very least, co-parent Lina.
I don’t feel it anymore; the need to pretend I’m fine with him and everything he’s done. His actions last night drove the last nail into the coffin. The one he built—for himself.
“I deserve that. Fine. We’ll do this right here.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “Do you…do you ever think about us?”
A loud laugh leaves my lips, stopping only when I see his face riddled with confusion.
“Oh. You were serious,” I start. I don’t bother taking the time to worry about his feelings before answering him. “Okay. Um. No, Richard. I don’t ever think about us. Maybe eight years ago we could have had this conversation, but that ship has sailed. And there’s no chance of it ever coming back.”
“It’s because of that British guy isn’t it?” he questions angrily, his body tensing. “The producer. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
Did he seriously think he would knock on my door and I’d just invite him in?
That I wouldn’t take into consideration our past and every moment that has led up to now?
I know people can change. Maybe he’s regretting the decisions he’s made. But, that’s not on me. We are where we are today, not because of anything I’ve done, but him.
This is on him.
Speaking of.
“By the way, his name is Ryan—and you know that,” I say, rolling my eyes at him. My patience is slipping more and more with every second this conversation continues. “And, while yes, I am dating him, this isn’t about Ryan. This is about the fact that you abandoned me. You abandoned our daughter. I struggled alone, Richard. And, I’m not even angry. I get it. We were kids, but we’re not anymore. You’ve had years to make a move. And you choose now? Because you see that I’m happy with someone else? Or because I’m about to be on TV? You’re too late. It’s too late.”
33
Ryan
What a wanker.
I’d woken up to the sound of knocking on the door. I certainly wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I’d heard enough about Richard that I wanted to be close enough to make my presence known if necessary.
And now seems like the perfect time.
Making my way down the hallway, I stop right before the wall ends. The next step I take will be in the open space in front of the door Carina and Richard are standing at.
“Carina!” I call, before adding in the next part for my own ego. “Come back to bed, love. There are things I’d like to do to you—again.”
I have to fight the laughter bubbling inside of me when I see Richard scowling at me from the doorway.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize we had company,” I lie, smirking when Carina turns her back to me. “I should probably go put some pants on.”
I may have walked out in my boxer briefs.
“It’s fine,” she says sharply. “Richard was just leaving.”
Without a word, he turns, and Carina closes the door. Her shoulders rise and fall before she turns to face me. The anger still lingering in her eyes is the last thing I expect to see.