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I straighten, instantly aware of his proximity. He can probably smell that I didn’t shower this morning. The one day I decide to take a break from life, Ryan shows up on my doorstep!
I start power-walking away from him. “Come-in. Have a seat. Give me a couple of minutes to get presentable.”
I don’t even wait for him to answer. I’m already pulling out the first pair of jeans and shirt I have in my drawers and then scurrying to the bathroom to change. Yanking off my sweats and ketchup-stained sweatshirt, I grab the first bottle of perfume in my toiletry bag and spray myself. Hopefully, that will mask the worst of my gaminess.
I dress as fast as I can. Then I apply some mascara and do the fastest tooth-brushing job in the history of mankind.
I look in the mirror before I exit the bathroom and groan. Still a hot mess. At least I don’t look like a homeless mess incapable of feeding herself.
Squaring my shoulders, I open the door and stride out into the room.
Ryan is on the balcony, watching the last of the sunset, his back to me. The giant box is on the coffee table in front of my couch.
I stare at his back. His green shirt stretches over his shoulders, hinting at muscles, and accentuating his sun-tanned arms. His jeans fit way too perfectly, and I could stare at him all night long.
Why is he here? How did he know where to find me? My goal was to fall off the face of the planet for a while, regroup, figure out what I want to do with my life, and then get back to the business of living. Whatever that looked like. Now Ryan's here, speeding up my timeline.
I walk toward the balcony, where Ryan is waiting for me.
Butterflies erupt into flight inside my stomach. I bite my lip, wondering what to say. What to do. How to feel.
This is my chance at finally seeing if Ryan and I have an honest chance. God gave me a second chance with Ryan after the funeral, and I didn’t take it. I couldn’t. Not so soon after Dad's death and with so much unresolved.
Now, I have a third chance.
If I don’t take it, I won’t get another one.
Deep down in my gut, I know this to be true.
The idea of putting my heart on the line, and possibly having it smashed into a million pieces by the one guy I’ve held a torch for my entire adult life? It not only scares me, but it also terrifies me to the bone.
I’ve held onto my sense of self during all my time caring for Dad by retreating into my few fleeting memories of Ryan. What if I’ve built Ryan up to be something he is not? What if I put myself out there and he becomes like my ex?
I’m at the sliding glass door leading to the balcony now, gripping the door's handle.
I can hear the seagulls and the engines of the boats.
I can smell the lake water and the partially eaten burger on the table.
The tan and blue carpet underfoot is soft, unlike the cool wooden planks of the balcony.
This is it. Now or never.
Do I have what it takes to jump back into love again?
Or will I shrink away and whither into misery?
Ryan must sense me standing behind him because he glances over his shoulder, sees me, and turns.
My knees nearly buckle in anticipation of what will happen next.
Chapter 32
No More Next Time
Flashback: Ryan
Iparkmycarat Pioneer Park and walk to where Freddie is holding his high school graduation party.
