“It would,” he said, pushing me out the back door.
“Well, let’s see if we can remedy that then.” I took him by the hand and led him outside into the cold.
CHAPTEREIGHTY-FOUR
Ryan
He climbed off the bed and searched for his clothes on the floor. He looked at his watch; it was already well after 1 a.m. “I should get some sleep tonight,” he mumbled as he started picking his clothes up. “I’ve got a bunch of hectic meetings tomorrow, which I’m not looking forward to.” He found his shirt by the door and slipped it over his head.
She sat on the bed watching him, her eyes following his every move until he was fully clothed. He sat on the chair and started lacing up his shoes. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time. He looked up; she was bundled in the warm jersey and scarf, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just thinking about something you said after the hospital,” she said.
He stopped lacing his shoes. “What did I say?”
“That you didn’t like your job,” she said softly, creeping to the edge of the bed to be closer to him.
He looked over at her. The fire that he’d lit in the room was casting a warm red glow across the side of her face. “On most days, I don’t,” he said, going back to his shoelaces.
“Then why do you do it?” she asked.
She watched him for a while and, honestly, he didn’t really know what to say. He shrugged his shoulders.
She stood up and walked over to him. She sat on the floor, and suddenly she was lacing his other shoe for him. He watched her curiously, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had tied his shoelace.
“Cross the bunny ears over each other, the bunny runs around the tree and it jumps into the hole andvoilà,” she said, pulling his laces tight.
He looked down at her and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Do you know how long it took me to learn to do that?” She leaned back on her elbows. “My mom was so patient, though. She was a good teacher, except with bike riding. She tried to teach me that, but couldn’t.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said your dad walked out on you guys?” he asked.
“I was six,” she said, looking down at the carpet. “I still remember exactly what I was wearing that day, isn’t that weird?” She looked up at him. “I was wearing my favourite dress. It was pastel pink and had these embroidered teddy bears on it. God, I loved that dress so much. My dad had bought it for me a few months before. He’d told me I looked like a real lady in it.” She looked back down at the carpet and paused. “I could never wear it after that.”
He reached out and put his hands on her knees, giving them both a firm squeeze. “That guy doesn’t know what he missed out on.”
Her face was still tilted down, and he could see she was trying to force a small smile. “Apparently, he has a whole other family now and lives in Texas of all places.” Her voice sounded soft and breathy, and his heart tugged inside his chest.
“Emmy’s dad is a DJ in Ibiza. After my sister Rachel died, he suggested that she come stay with him for a while. He hadn’t seen her in over seven years.”
She looked up at him and shook her head. “I can guess what your response to that was,” she said, a small smile flickering across her lips.
“His DJ name is DJ Speed Ballz.”
She let out a small chuckle. “Sounds like your sister shopped for boyfriends at the same place I used to.”
“Yup, she could have done a lot better than him, but she always said she never regretted it and wouldn’t change things for the world. Because of Emmy.” Suddenly his throat tightened. An invisible punch to the gut and a kick in the chest. His heart pressed against his ribcage and that familiar feeling—the one he’d felt in the bicycle store—started rising up inside him again. His eyes started to sting and he quickly stood up.
“I . . . I better go.” He marched towards the door. The emotions were bubbling up inside him and they felt like they were about to explode out of him. He needed to be alone. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this.
“Wait, wait.” Poppy chased after him and grabbed his arm as he tried to open the door. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“Into the house,” he said, not making eye contact. He didn’t want her to see the tears that were pooling in the corners of his eyes.
She put her hands on his face and pulled him towards her. “Ryan, it’s okay to let go sometimes.” Her voice was soft.
