Ryder's mouth curved into a small, almost sad smile. "You don't need to explain yourself, Dec."
"No, really. I mean, yeah, we went on a date—"
I heard his breath catch, sharp and involuntary.
"—but that was it," I finished quickly.
He let out a long exhale, running a hand through his hair. "Dec... I don't have any right to be upset that you moved on or met people or even if you had a baby with someone else. I only want you to be happy even without me because nothing—" His voice cracked just slightly. "Nothing will ever change how I feel about you."
"You can't keep saying stuff like that," I snapped, my voice sharp, trembling with something between anger and fear.
"It's real," he said, calm but firm.
"Well, I don't believe that!" My words came out louder than I intended, jagged and raw. His eyes widened, a flash of hurt crossing his face. He swallowed, running a hand through his hair.
"Okay... okay. Let's just... go somewhere we can talk."
We walked in silence, tension coiling between us with every step, until he led me to a small park a few blocks away. A bench satunder a lamppost, the fading light spilling over the grass like liquid gold. He gestured to it, voice soft now, tentative. "Please sit," he said.
I hesitated, then lowered myself onto the worn wood, my chest tight with words I hadn't yet dared to say.
"I think... we need to talk," I whispered, my throat raw, my hands fisting in my lap. "Really talk. About everything. About... us."
"Okay," he said softly.
"I can't let it fester any longer, Ryder. I am so hurt." My voice shook, but the anger underneath it burned steady. "You have no idea."
His eyes flickered, like a shadow crossing over a flame. "I do.."
"NO, YOU DON'T!" The scream tore out of me before I even knew it was there. People walking their dogs on the path turned to look, but I didn't care. It ripped up from somewhere deep, somewhere I'd kept locked for years. My hands were fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. "You don't know how I spent my whole life feelingless than—just the ugly duckling, the curvy friend, the kind, funny but stupid, naïve girl everyone accepted but no one wanted. I never felt beautiful." My voice cracked. "Never."
I pressed my hand to my chest like I could hold myself together, but the words kept spilling, bitter and hot. "And maybe you think it's shallow, maybe you'll always see it as vanity, but it isn't, it's carved into me, it's the ache I've carried my whole life, the hunger to feel wanted, to feel beautiful, to feel like I mattered, and I never had that, not once, not until you."
My vision blurred. The trees, the sky, even his face went watery. "When you touched me, when you looked at me, I felt, for the first time, beautiful and desired. I finally wasn't invisible." My voice broke into a sob, but I pushed on. "until the moment we stepped outside. That's when I vanished. I was a ghost next to you. Insignificant because I didn't matter, and I kept telling myself maybe that's all I deserve. Maybe that's all I'll ever get. Maybe that's fine."
I was shaking, my whole body trembling with rage and grief. My hands clawed at the air as if I could rip the ache out of me and throw it at him. "But it's not fine, Ryder" I spat, my throat raw. "It was never fine. Do you hear me? Never!"
I stood up, tears streamed hot down my cheeks, and still the words came, jagged and furious. "All I wanted—all I ever wanted—was to feel loved. To feel wanted. Nothing more. I didn't need fancy dinners or trips across the world. I didn't need some picture-perfect fairy tale. I just needed to know I mattered. That I was seen. That when you looked at me, you weren't ashamed."
My voice cracked into a sob, but it only made the anger sharper, more blistering. "Yes I know Ryder, I know what was happening with you and I am so sorry, but at that time, I didn't! I just felt I was the shadow, the secret, the nothing you shoved in the dark. Do you understand what that does to a person? Even now that I know the truth, I still fight the horrible feeling of knowing and feeling that I am good enough to touch in private, but not good enough to stand beside in the daylight?"
I pounded my fist against my chest, the force making my voice shatter. "That wasnot love! That was cruelty and selfishness."
He stepped closer, slow, like he was approaching a wounded animal, his hands open but shaking. Tears had pooled in his eyes, clinging to his lashes before slipping down his cheeks. His voice came out rough, almost hoarse.
"The fact that I made you feel this way..." He stopped, swallowed hard. "That will always be my biggest regret." His chest rose and fell like he was holding back a sob. "I will never stop being sorry. Not in a week. Not in a decade. Please—please believe me when I say this, Dec... I love you. I have always loved you. I've always found you irresistible, magnetic, breathtaking. Those moments when it was just the two of us, those weren't scraps. That was the realest part of me. The only part that wasn't choking on fear. That was me without the burdens. That was me feeling safe and in love."
My throat closed, my voice coming out like a ghost of itself, thin and trembling. "You didn't say it back that night."
"I didn't," he whispered. His eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders caving inward, "God, Dec..." His lips trembled, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. "I was dying to say it back. It was right there, on the edge of my tongue. Burning a hole in my chest. Eating me alive." His voice cracked; a harsh breath shuddered out of him as he raked a trembling hand through his hair.
"But I couldn't." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Because I was a liar. Because I was a coward. Because I'd built my whole life on silence and secrets and pretending I wasn't drowning. I wanted the first time I said it to you to be clean. To be real. To be a free man, a whole man—not a coward still shackled to Mira's control, still crawling through the wreckage I'd made. You deserved all of me, Dec." His voice broke into a ragged whisper. "And backthen..." He swallowed hard, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Back then, I was nothing. A shell. A man who mistook surviving for living. A man who clung to you like air but didn't know how to breathe." He looked up at me then, eyes glassy, voice a confession and a plea all at once. "You deserved better than a ghost pretending to be a man."
My voice rose, cracked, then broke apart. "That's why I was your dirty secret."
His head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. "No," he said quickly, words tumbling out, almost frantic. "God, Dec—no. There's nothing dirty about you. Nothing dirty about us. Don't ever think that." His voice trembled, almost broke. "I wasn't ashamed of you, I was ashamed ofME. I told myself I was protecting you. I told myself keeping you in the shadows was safer for you, and maybe that sounds like the cheapest excuse. Maybe it is. I know you're thinking, why didn't I just end it and fight my way back once I was free? Why didn't I come to you whole, instead of breaking you too?"
His chest heaved, words spilling out ragged, uneven. "But Dec... back then my mind wasn't mine. Abuse warps everything. It twists logic until survival feels like the only thing that matters. I wasn't making choices, I was clawing for air and in the process. I was selfish. I see that now. I see how much it cost you. Back then, everything was fog and fear."
