Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

GABBY

“Are you okay?” Bennett asks once Earl takes off, leaving us by the abandoned stage. The event has continued despite the disturbance. The town seems to be enjoying themselves, which is important because the last thing I’d want to do is disrupt an event that took a lot of time, energy, and money to put together.

“No,” I say, still a little shaken from Nathan’s ambush. “I didn’t even see him coming.”

“What happened? I didn’t know what was happening until I saw Ryland punching Nathan across the face.”

“He must have found out about the event since Ethel posted about it everywhere. Knowing him, he’s probably followed us both for a while. And well, I didn’t tell you, but he’s actually sent me a few texts. Wasn’t too thrilled that I didn’t text him back.”

“He texted you, and you didn’t tell me?” Bennett asks, growing angry.

“I didn’t want to bother you. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” I play it down. “You were busy?—”

“I’m never too busy for you. This is something you should have told me. Did Ryland know?”

“He found out about the second group of text messages.”

“And he didn’t tell me either?”

“Because he handled it,” I say. “Bennett, please don’t get upset about this, okay? I wanted you to focus on baseball.”

“Guess what, Gabby? You are more important than baseball. You matter more to me than anything, so not telling me about what’s going on in your life hurts me. We have been in this life together, just you and me, so if something’s happening with you, I need to know. That’s my right as your brother, as the person who has been through it all with you.”

He’s right.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I’m a grown-ass man, Gabby. I love you, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but at some point, you need to realize that I can protect myself. I can compartmentalize my life, and when I’m on the field, I get the job done and don’t bring the outside world into that stadium. I know you’re trying to shield me, but don’t. I don’t need it. What I need is for you to tell me the truth about what’s going on or else we’re not in this together.”

“You’re right, Bennett. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. Now tell me what that fuck said to you.”

I sigh heavily. “In the texts, he said that I was selfish and some other things that I really don’t want to get into because I was able to look past them and move on.”

“I can understand that. What about today? What happened?”

“It’s kind of a blur. I just remember being pulled out of the crowd. He placed his hand that smelled like cigarettes over my mouth and told me not to make a noise or I was going to regret it.” Bennett tenses, but I continue. “He was pretty much asking for money. I can’t recall everything he said because I could barely hear him over the crowd and music, but it was something along those lines. He didn’t get to say much before Ryland tore him off me.”

“Thank God he was there.” Bennett takes a seat next to me and puts his arm around me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to pull him off.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Hey, I got everyone some water.” Bower walks up, looking back and forth between us. “Uh, I can leave these here and step to the side while you two finish up.”

“You can stay,” Bennett says as he takes the water from Bower. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She turns toward me. “Also, I wanted to let you know that Ryland left.”

“He did?” I ask. “Where did he go?”

“I’m assuming home. I ran into Hattie, and well, they’re all pretty shaken.” Bower’s lips thin. “Mac saw everything, and she’s scared. Doesn’t want to be near Ryland.”

“What? No.” My stomach bottoms out, nausea immediately taking over. “She said that?”

Bower nods. “She went home with Aubree and Wyatt, and Ryland, well, he’s packing up Mac’s stuff.”

“What do you mean he’s packing up her stuff?”

“I didn’t get much from Hattie, as she was really upset. All I know is that Ryland is spiraling, claims he’s behaving exactly like his father, and Mac doesn’t want to be around him.”

“Oh God,” I whisper. “This is all my fault.”

“How is this your fault?” Bennett asks.

“Because Ryland came to protect me.”

“This is not your fault,” Bennett says. “Don’t even start that way of thinking. This is no one’s fault other than Nathan’s. No one should be taking the blame other than him. He attacked you, Gabby. Ryland protected you. Plain and simple.”

“He’s right,” Bower says. “And I think the sooner everyone accepts those circumstances, the better because taking the blame is not going to do anything. What needs to be done is you need to go to Ryland and help him. Help him work through whatever demons he’s dealing with because my guess is, if he moves Mac out, you’re next.”

My eyes widen because I didn’t even think of that. She’s right. I know Ryland, I know how he can be self-deprecating, how he can claim that he’s not good enough, and that he doesn’t deserve something in his life. My guess is he’s already proclaimed himself as unfit to watch Mac. Next, he’ll declare he shouldn’t be with me, and I can’t let any of that happen.

I stand and say, “I’m sorry, Bennett, but I need to go.”

“Don’t apologize. Let us know if you need help.”

“I will.” I give them both hugs and take off.

The house is quiet as I walk inside, not a single sound thrumming through the walls, which makes me temporarily think he’s not here, but his truck is in the driveway, and his shoes are kicked off at the door. He’s here. The question is . . . where?

I move through the house, looking around, making sure to see he’s not sitting in the corner or up against a wall, and when I don’t see him, I head up the stairs where I spot Mac’s door open. I head there first, and that’s where I find him, curled into her bed, a bottle of whiskey unopened on the floor, tears running down his cheeks.

My heart breaks. I can’t possibly imagine the pain he’s going through, knowing Mac doesn’t want to be near him.

Wanting to give him all the love he deserves and needs at this moment, I slip my shoes off at the door and move into the room. When his bloodshot eyes meet mine, he shakes his head.

“No, Gabby. I don’t want you here.”

I don’t listen to him. I move toward the bed and then in behind him.

“I don’t . . . I don’t want you here,” he says, his voice shaky.

I slip my arm around his waist and press a kiss to his shirt and feel the tension in his body slightly decrease, so I do it again.

And again.

And when he finally moves to his back and I slide my body over his chest, he allows me to look him in the eyes. I cup his cheek and wipe his tears away.

“I don’t . . . I don’t need you,” he says weakly.

“I know,” I say, still wiping at his tears. “But I’m not leaving. Feel free to make me, but I’m not budging.”

He looks away, his eyes focusing on the stars on the ceiling above us. After a few seconds of silence, he says, “I want to be alone, Gabby.”

“I’m not going to let you be alone.”

He lifts, shifting me to the side, and grabs the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it. He goes to raise it to his lips, but I stop him.

“Don’t.” I try to take the bottle, but he doesn’t let me.

“Gabby, I’m going to get really pissed if you don’t stop.”

“Then get mad. I don’t care,” I say. “I’m not going to let you be alone. Not now. Not ever.”

Now he stands from the bed and turns toward me, bottle of whiskey at his side. “Fine, you want to do this now, then? I was going to give you a fucking second, but we can do this now.”

“Do what?” I ask even though I know exactly what’s coming.

“End this.” Yup, I knew it. Thankfully, I’m prepared for it and not blindsided.

“You want to end what we have?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning against the wall now.

I take him in—the slouch in his shoulders, his unruly hair, and the deadness in his eyes. This is not the Ryland I know. This is not the same man, and thankfully, I can look at the situation and realize that without getting emotional.

“Why? Why do you want to end this, Ryland? Is it because you don’t love me anymore, because from what I saw today, I’d say that’s the exact opposite. Is it because you feel like you can’t protect me, because that wouldn’t be the case either. Or is it because you’re spiraling and attempting to eliminate everything good from your life?”

His lips twist to the side, and without emotion, he says, “Because I don’t love you anymore.”

I feel my stomach turn from his answer, but I know he’s lying.

So I step up to him, take the bottle from his hand, and set it on the floor. Then I slide my hand up his chest to the back of his head. “You don’t love me anymore? Is that the truth? Or are you lying because you don’t think you deserve anything good in your life?”

“It’s the truth,” he says, looking over my shoulder.

“Then fucking say it to my face, Ryland. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.” I force his eyes to look at me. “Don’t be a coward and look away. Look at me. Say those words to me and mean them. Because I’ll tell you right now, I love you. I love you more than anything, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand here and let you ruin what we have.”

Tears fill his eyes right before they tip down his cheeks.

“Say it, Ryland. Look me in the eyes and say it to me.”

He wets his lips, but he remains silent. So I pull him to the floor with me. He curls against the floor as I lean against the wall. He rests his head on my lap, and he lets out a sob. His body shakes. It quivers. And I remain there, holding him, rubbing his back, and making sure he knows that I will not leave him no matter what happens.

And we stay there for a long time. I’m not sure how long, but long enough to see the sun set, to feel his breathing slow down, and to sense his calm.

I run my fingers through his hair. “I need you to know something,” I say quietly. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to help me with Nathan. Seeing him, feeling him hold me like that, it terrified me, and I went . . . I went still. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t yell, I couldn’t scream. I went dead inside. If it hadn’t been for you at that moment, I’m not sure what would have happened today. And I need you to know that I’m so grateful for you, Ryland. I’m so grateful for you being there for me, protecting me, making sure that I’m taken care of. That’s who you are at your core. You’re a protector . . . you are not someone who hurts others . . . like your father.” I feel him grow stiff beneath me.

I continue to stroke his hair. “You’re not him. You’ll never be him. You’re not even close to being the same man. You’ve risen above who he was. You stepped up at a young age, taking the brunt of your father’s fists so your sisters were never hurt. You worked hard to take care of them. You gave up on your dreams to be there for them. You are selfless. Your father was self ish , so don’t believe for one second that you are him. You are anything and everything but him. You are the very best of men. In fact, you are the best man I know. And I never want to live my life without you.”

My throat grows tight as I continue.

“You’re a coach, someone those boys look up to, rely on, and seek out for help. You’re a teacher and an educator, impacting every kid in your class. You’re a brother, the head of the family, taking over when your dearest Cassidy passed. You’re the glue, keeping your sisters close and ensuring your love for each other keeps growing. You’re a boyfriend, a lover, a man I respect with everything in me. A man I can trust with my life. A man I will never stop loving, ever. But most importantly, Ryland”—my voice grows tense—“you’re Uncle Dad.” I hear him sniff, so I continue to run my hands through his hair. “You mean the world to that little girl. You are her best friend, the man she’ll look up to for the rest of her life. You stepped up when she lost her dad, you stepped up when she lost her mom, and now, you’re the center of her life. You always will be.”

His body shakes under my hold, his tears pooling on my legs.

“We can overcome this setback. But first, you need to accept who you are and who you’re not. You are the man I just described. You are not the man who held you with his fists, who abused you, who taught you nothing about love but rather everything about hate. You’re not that man. You don’t even have an ounce of him in you.”

I take a chance and encourage him to lift to look me in the eyes. Thankfully, he does, and when he leans against the wall, I straddle his lap and bring my hands to his cheeks.

I lean in and press a very light kiss to his lips. I pause, waiting, and I do it again. This time, he kisses me back.

And then he kisses me again.

And again as his hand loops behind my neck.

When he pulls away, he connects our foreheads and quietly says, “I’m sorry, Gabby. I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. I really fucking love you. So much.”

“I know,” I say, rubbing my thumb over his cheek. “I know you do.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t fucking mean it.”

“I know.” I kiss him again. “I know, Ryland.”

He lets out a shaky breath as more tears stream down his cheeks. “She . . . she hates me.”

“She doesn’t,” I reply. “I can promise you right now, she does not hate you. She might be scared, but we can fix that. There’s no way she hates you. You’re Uncle Dad, the love for you will always be there.”

He shakes his head. “That look in her eyes . . . it haunts me.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that, and I’m sorry you were put in a position where you had to help me.”

“I lost it,” he says quietly. “Seeing a man attack you like that, I lost my goddamn mind. I forgot about Mac and putting her first. I never should have punched Nathan. I should have just pushed him away.”

“Ryland.” I kiss his forehead and his nose and his lips. “I know not all parents will be perfect throughout their life. There will be mistakes, and there will be moments when you’ll have to sit down with your child and apologize for your behavior. But it’s having those honest conversations, showing humility, teaching your child how to apologize, those are the teachable moments and that’s what this is. This doesn’t end anything. This is just the start of that journey of sifting through this world of parenting. You can’t give up on that little girl. She lost her parents, don’t let her lose you too.”

His eyes search mine, and after a few seconds, he nods.

And then he wraps his arms around me and hugs me, squeezing me tight.

“I love you, Gabby. Thank you.”

“I love you, too, Ryland.”