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"Ryder Monroe, you better not hurt Tillie again. She's not experienced enough to play your games and shouldn't have to. She took a long time to recover from the last time you hurt her.”
“I don't want to hurt her mom, and I didn’t hurt her last time—at least not intentionally. I have no idea what happened, but I would never do what she thinks I did…” I grumble. I’m hurt and pissed that any of them believes I would be like that. I know I don’t live here anymore, but my family should know me better than they apparently do.
I push those thoughts away. Now is not the time.
“Tucker is sweet on Tillie. He'd be good for her,” Mom murmurs quietly. I can't tell if she's trying to convince me or not hurt my feelings. I open my mouth to interrupt, but she keeps going. “She wouldn't be happy in the city, Ryder, and you aren't ready to settle down. You want a different life than she wants.”
“No offense, Mom. I know what Tillie wants. I also know what I want,” I tell her, trying to control the emotion in my voice as it clenches my chest. “Whatever we decide is between the two of us.”
“You sound like you actually care for her,” Mom replies, sounding surprised. Hell, she’s shocked. It's heavy in the pause as she thinks my words over.
“I do, and I believe she cares for me, too.”
My mom snorts. “Don't be completely dense, Ryder. Tillie has always cared for you.”
I huff out in frustration as I run a hand through my hair. Why am I the last to know any of this? How come everyone has all this time to judge me for going away and hurting her, but no one thought to say one damn thing to me?
“I wish you had let me know.”
“It wouldn't have mattered,” Mom chastises. The sadness in her voice is almost my tipping point, and I wonder if I need to pull over. “You were too involved with that West girl, and just for the record, that girl isn't fit to kiss my Tillie's feet.”
“I don’t care about Emily. I don’t even want to talk about her right now. Tillie and I will figure this out, but I need to find her, Mom. Do you have any idea where she would go when she’s this upset?” I’m praying she has an answer because if she doesn’t, I’m not sure what my next move will be. I do know that I'll drive around all night looking for her. It’s killing me that every minute that passes, is time where she’s hurt and alone.
“You better not disappoint me, son,” she warns, then she sighs. “Tillie likes to go to the theater on Main Street when they have Noir film week. I'd check there. They are playing old movies this week. Tonight is Marilyn Monroe night. It’s one of Tillie’s favorites. You know the one where they're in Niagara Falls? And her husband—”
“Thanks, Mom. I'll check,” I interrupt, and hang up. I’ll apologize later.
I need to get to Tillie. I toss the phone toward the passenger side and make a quick U-turn that makes my tires squeal. As if I didn’t have enough guilt, I realize that the woman who is coming to mean so much to me is still a mystery. I had no idea she loved old drama movies. I would have figured her for a romcom kind of girl. The truth is, I’ve yet to uncover or learn enough about Tillie. I’m going to do it.I will.I just need to convince her to give me a chance.
Tillie
I stare up at the big screen, watching the movie I've seen a hundred times. It's one of my favorites—mostly because of the scenery. Still, I'm not fully paying attention to it.
I'm too busy remembering the night of my eighteenth birthday. I had no business responding to a letter from Ryder, but I was in love. He never encouraged the emotion, but even knowing it was crazy, I harbored feelings for him. I was never going to do anything about it—not even after he and Emily broke up. I mean, Ryder couldn’t even remember my name. Nothing would ever come from my feelings. I knew that.
I. Knew. That.
Then, something happened that I never dreamed would. Emily came over with a letter. A letter shesaidwas for me and written by Ryder. When I tried to tell her she was crazy, she laughed. She even gave me a hug before telling me that she knew I was in love with Ryder. She was my best friend and had seen the way I looked at him over the years.
I was mortified.
Then, she rocked my world giving me her blessing. When Emily gave me the letter from Ryder, I remember feeling disbelief and excitement roll together and fill me with a warmth I didn’t know existed—the same warmth I felt waking up in Ryder’s arms.
Shit.
Shaking my head in frustration, I pull myself back to the present. I was a fool then and I’m a bigger fool now.
I hear the door in the back of the theater open, but I ignore it. It’s probably a couple finally arriving. There's no one else in here which is unusual. It stands to reason there are people finally arriving. Two or three couples usually catch the old matinees, especially later in the evenings. They’re usually older, although some younger couples come in to make out in the dark room.
I talked Keith into coming to see the shows a couple of times when we were dating. I even tried to talk him into making out with me, but it was useless. He was so against PDA that he wouldn’t hold hands with me where people could see. We only ever kissed in private. I always knew we weren’t well matched. I think Keith did, too, but he denied it all the time.
I was just lonely.
I wanted more from a man, but he liked me. No, he loved me and cared for me. That said, his type of love was restrained. It was comfortable and yet left me constantly feeling empty. That's what ultimately led to us breaking up.
Maybe I should have tried to be happy, even if it was settling. In the end, I didn't try, and Keith got tired of trying to be enough for the both of us. I’m starting to realize part of the reason I never fully could give myself to Keith—or anyone—is because I think Ryder Monroe has always been in my head.
I'm twenty-five, and Ryder is even older. He’d be twenty-seven now. Weird high school crushes shouldn’t last this long, not without something feeding them—something other than wild fantasies.
