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Grabbing her hand, I lead a reluctant Lili to the sofa where we can get comfortable for the long haul. As much as I hate opening old wounds, this needs to be done now so we can put it all behind us.
I was hoping to hold her and comfort her if need be, but she tucks herself in the corner and grabs a pillow instead. I allow her a little space but sit close enough to throw my arm over the top, inches away from her shoulder. She’s an unwilling participant, so it looks like I’ll be doing all the talking for the both of us.
“First, I’d like to apologize for flying off the handle earlier. I was out of line and you had every right to be angry when you caught me flipping through the book. After reading the synopsis on the back, I should have walked away. But you really can’t fault me for wanting to know more about Ryder since you’ve been so tight-lipped about your relationship.” Oh, if looks could kill I’d be dead right now.
“If I’d wanted you to know, Zane, I would have told you. Besides, why the hell would I go around discussing my past relationships? Did I ever pry into your relationship with Dakota? No, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t curious. I’m sorry but this is too much for me to wrap my head around right now. Maybe you should leave.”
“Believe me, Lili, I’m just as surprised as you. But we need to discuss the elephant in the room before I go anywhere.”
“It’s pointless to have a heart-to-heart about this coincidence, Zane. It certainly won’t bring Ryder back and it won’t solve a damn thing. Sorry, I won’t be cutting myself open for you tonight.” With that said, Lili jumps off the sofa, grabs her phone and her book, and storms into her bedroom. Slamming the door behind her. I’m hurt, but when I hear the lock click into place, I’m furious.
LILIANNA
My heart feels like it’s about to implode inside of my chest and I don’t know how to stop it. I told Zane it was a coincidence and that’s just a bunch of bullshit because what are the odds of him having Ryder’s old number?
I sent those messages to Ryder because I was angry and still going through the grieving process. It was an emotional rollercoaster, but at the same time it felt cathartic and liberating. Although I knew he’d never respond, I felt as though it was our only connection. My solitary lifeline. I find it ironic that the one man who did respond was the man I’d been sleeping with all this time. Fuck, I have no idea how I’m going to deal with all of this. I feel like I’m losing control and I’m so afraid of falling down the rabbit hole again and never being able to dig my way out.
Crawling beneath the sheets, I stifle down a sob since they smell just like the man who’s on the other side of that door. And to make matters worse, I’m clutching the book that I’ve dedicated to Ryder while the scent of another man permeates his bed. I know Ryder’s gone and in the grand scheme of things I’m not doing anything wrong, so why the hell does it feel like I am? I promised myself once I’d penned The End I’d move on, but it’s so much easier said than done. Ready or not, I need to face my demons once and for all. Taking a deep breath, I lean against the headboard and begin reading from start to finish.
Several hours later, I close the book and hold it lovingly against my chest. Silently, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I say goodbye to the man who fought not only for me but for his beloved country.
Ryder Burns was a fearless United States Navy SEAL, who always put his personal life on hold whenever he was called to duty. Unfortunately, his dedication cost him his life last December while on a secret mission in Somalia.
Of course, I wasn’t privy to this information until I happened upon an article in the New York Times. Apparently, his mother didn’t deem it necessary to notify me—his fiancée—about his death. But she had no qualms about approaching me at the funeral to inform me she’d be coming to Seattle in a week’s time to pick up all of Ryder’s personal belongings. I told her not to bother since she wasn’t welcome in my home and that I’d pack them up and send them to her. Weeks later she received a small box with trinkets from his childhood. I, on the other hand, kept everything we acquired as a couple that had meaning. I’ve never heard from her since.
Tucking my legs against my chest, I drop my head to my knees. And, when I steal a quick glance out the window I realize the Seattle weather reflects my mood. Dark, dismal and wet. Just like the river of tears I’ve shed ever since reading of Ryder’s death. So many questions went unanswered and so many confidences with uncertainties. No one would give me the closure I so desperately needed and that will haunt me until the day I die.
Now I’m in desperate need of a bathroom break and then I need to call Nat with the good news. The proof was perfect and now Private Messages will be in the publisher’s capable hands. The rest is up to them. Within the month, it will go live for the whole world to peruse. My only hope is that readers finally realize the depths our servicemen and women go through to protect them on a daily basis. They are truly the selfless ones.
With a ragged breath, I climb out of bed. Along with my achy bones and stiff joints from being in the same position for far too long. Perhaps once I’ve finished my tasks I should take a brisk walk to clear my head. I had high hopes for today, but so far it’s been nothing short of an emotional upheaval.
After using the en suite attached to my bedroom, I grab my phone and head into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I nearly stumble when I see Zane still sitting in the same spot before I went storming into my room earlier today. How is that even possible? Fear suddenly grabs me by the throat when I think something might have happened to him. I sprint over to where he’s sitting only to suck in a breath when his piercing stare finds mine.
“Are you finished, Lili? ‘Cause I really need to talk to you.” Oh God, his hair’s a disheveled mess from his fingers raking a path through his thick mane. And, his gravely timbre is so damn commanding that my heart skips a beat. I’m emotionally drained and the last thing I want to do is talk. Still, I owe it to him since he patiently waited for me.
“How about I make us some coffee and then we can sit and talk?” When he quirks a brow, I head into the kitchen, so he doesn’t see my smile. By the look on his wary face, he thought I’d give him a hard time and he was ready for an argument. Little does he know, I’m done fighting. The truth will come out sooner or later, so I might as well get it over with now.
Zane follows me into the kitchen and sits while waiting for his coffee. I can feel his penetrating gaze as I prepare our mugs. I don’t know about him but I’m going to need some java goodness to get through this difficult conversation.
His hand lingers on mine when I set his mug down in front of him. I don’t pull away and just let his fingers gently stroke the web of my thumb. Sending shivers down my spine. His touch has always ignited a special place in my core. Reserved only for him.
As soon as he lets go, I grab my coffee and sit down beside him. We drink in comfortable silence and I wait with bated breath for him to ask the first question. But this is not a game of twenty questions like we’ve played before. This time I’ll answer all of them as honestly as I can without avoiding the inevitable. I think it’s time to cut myself open once and for all and let him see me bleed.
Zane clears his throat and out pops the first question. “Why were you in your room for so long?”
“I read Private Messages, so I could finalize the proof.”
He nods in understanding and continues. “I’m curious as to why all of your messages have only four lines and eight words per sentence.”
Technically, that is not in the form of a question, but I won’t be so stubborn and not tell him. “Ryder’s birthday was April eighth, hence the four lines with eight words.”
“I have so many questions on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t want you to run away again.” Tears suddenly spring to my eyes at his admission because I can see how conflicted he is. On the one hand, he wants to know, but I’ve been so evasive in the past that he’s afraid I’ll do it again.
“In the past, I wasn’t ready to open up to you. I am now. I promise I’ll answer every question to the best of my ability.”
He wags his finger in the void between us and asks, “So what’s changed since then and now?”
Stupid, stupid man. Do I need to spell it out for him?
