“I … I …” I look around, feeling shaky. “Can I come in?” I finally ask.
“Sure.” He holds the door open wider and I step inside. He closes the door behind us and places his hand on the small of my back—not low enough to be suggestive but almost protectively—and leads me into an open family room.
It has high ceilings with wood beams crisscrossing it. The walls are painted a cheerful yellow—not school bus yellow—and the two couches are beige in color with yellow throw pillows. There’s a large, fluffy, white rug with several stains that look like they’re from markers. A TV resides above the fireplace and there are several photos of Cole and some with Cole and Ryder. I don’t see any photos of his wife, and I figure he’s packed them away.
I take a seat on the couch and he sits on the other one, purposely putting space between us, I’m sure.
I take a deep breath and smooth my hands down the front of my dress. I don’t know what to say, let alone where to begin. I let out the breath I’m holding and raise my eyes to his. His brown eyes reflect hurt and confusion.
“Ryder,” I breathe out his name and my voice cracks sligh
tly. “I feel so conflicted right now. I … I liked kissing you. I might’ve even loved it. I definitely kissed you back,” I say, not wanting him to think I blame him for the kiss. “But I’m dealing with so much right now. I lost the love of my life, I’m pregnant with his baby, I’m probably going to lose my house if I don’t move soon, and I … I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. But how soon is too soon to move on and let go? I don’t want to rush into anything. I want us to take our time, if that’s what you want, and just get to know each other. See where things go,” I explain. I sit against the pillows and wait for him to speak.
“I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I want to rush into something with you, that’s not the case at all. You’re the first woman I’ve felt a spark of anything with since Angela so maybe I was a little pushy—”
“No,” I interrupt him, “not at all. From the moment I met you I felt this … connection. Spark. Whatever you want to call it.” I probably sound cheesy as all get out, but it’s the truth.
“So I’m not the only one that felt it?” he asks with a small grin.
“No, definitely not.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
He chuckles and claps his hands together, leaning forward. “I don’t know where we’ll go from here,” he says and my heart clenches, “but I do know I want us to see where it goes.” My heart releases and I exhale. “I’m here for you, Blaire. As a friend, whatever you need me to be.” He shrugs. “I want you to know you can come to me. The feelings of confliction you have about me, I have them too. Probably not as bad, but there is a part of me that feels like I might be trying to replace Angela. I know that isn’t the case, though. When I think of you, it’s you I see. Not a version of her.” He moistens his lips with his tongue. “I think it’s human nature to fear we’re replacing something with something else. We don’t like to let go of the past, so sometimes moving forward is a hard concept to grasp.”
“Yeah.” I nod in understanding. “I can see that.” I stand up then. “I better go. I don’t want to keep you.”
He shrugs and stands too. “I was just going to put a movie on. You can stay if you want.”
I shake my head even though a part of me yearns to stay. “I need to go.”
“Okay.” He nods and leads me to the door. He follows me outside and stands on his front porch, leaning against a column while I walk to my car. I open my car door, and I’m about to slip inside when he calls, “Blaire?” I turn back and see his lips lifted in a crooked smile. “The next time we kiss you won’t run away.”
“You’re sure there will be a next time?” I’m fighting a smile.
His grin widens. “Definitely.”
I stare at the pile of bills. This is a reality I haven’t wanted to face. In the midst of losing Ben, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my home too. The fact of the matter is I don’t make enough money on my own to cover the costs of a house this size. I’ve been scraping by for months and my savings is dwindling. With the baby coming I can’t go into debt.
I push the bills off the table. “I’m moving,” I announce.
My mom looks up from the book she’s reading. “What?”
“I’m moving,” I say again. “I have to.”
She’s suggested that I move in the past, but not because of the bills—although she probably assumed those were bad too. She thought I should move because this place holds so much of Ben in it. I guess that’s true too. Several months ago I would’ve thrown a fit about moving for that very reason, but now I only feel a very mild sting.
“You’re moving?” she repeats. “Where?”
“I don’t know yet,” I exhale, standing up from the kitchen table. “I’ll figure it out. All I know is I can’t keep paying this.” I point to the envelopes and papers on the floor.
“Your dad and I can help you with the bills if that’s an issue—” she begins.
I shake my head. “No. I won’t let you guys do that. I’m a big girl, this is my mess, and I’ll clean it up. I have to think about my daughter.” My hand falls to the swell of my belly. I’m nearing the seventh-month mark of pregnancy. It’s hard for me to believe she’ll be here so soon. There’s so much left I have to do.
My mom’s face softens. “I understand. Do you want me to help you look?” She perks up.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d like to be out of here in a month,” I admit. “It’s a short time frame but I can’t keep doing this, I really can’t,” I emphasize. “Plus, I need to get moved in somewhere and everything set up for the baby.”
She nods her head in understanding. “I’ll contact a realtor and see about selling the house.”