He gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t be. I understand.”
“I didn’t think you’d really stay away if you knew the truth.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “You know I wouldn’t have. So, tell me, why the threats? I haven’t been able to figure it out on my own, and not knowing is driving me crazy.”
I explained what Derek had told me, about his father’s insistence on our getting back together, and his threats to leave the company to Derek’s cousin.
Ryan’s face turned grim. “That’s one messed-up family, angel. We’ve gotta make sure Matson never goes anywhere near them.” He squeezed my hand and looked at my son, and I squeezed back.
“I know.”
• • •
Thank God, my memory came back shortly after getting released from the hospital.
I remembered everything—from showing up at the bar, to calling Ryan from the car in hysterics, and right up until I crashed. I remembered seeing the huge tree and not being able to avoid it. But I didn’t remember anything else until waking up at the hospital with Ryan and Grant, although I was told I’d woken up several times before then.
For the next few weeks, Ryan catered to me, even though it wasn’t long before I was fine. He refused to leave my side, wanting to be sure that I was not only physically all right, but emotionally okay as well. Even after I went back to work, he made sure to be with me as much as possible.
It was sweet, being cared for like that. After having Matson, I’d never allowed anyone, aside from my parents, to do anything for me. I wasn’t sure I knew how. But with Ryan, it felt nice to allow myself to depend on him . . . right, even. He did things for me that I would have wanted to do for him if our roles were reversed, so I reminded myself of that fact often. Ryan showed me day after day what the true meaning of a partner was, something I’d never known before him, something I hadn’t been sure I was ever going to have.
He stayed at the house every night, sleeping on the couch so Matson wouldn’t get confused or pushed aside. And no matter how many times I told him to go back to work, Ryan kept insisting he wasn’t ready. He’d swapped shifts with one of their day bartenders so he was still at the bar while I was at work, but the second I got home with Matson in tow, Ryan was quickly behind.
I liked having him here. Actually, I loved having him here, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. Eventually, he needed to work the hours he was meant to, and would probably have to go back to sleeping at own place at night.
Secretly, I hated that he would probably go home soon. Ryan Fisher sure was easy to get used to.
“I want to be here for you until I know you’re okay.”
He assured me of that night after night, and part of me wondered if he needed to stay with me just as much as I needed him there. Ryan had gone through hell too. We both had.
Tragedy tended to bond the people who experienced it together, and no matter how badly others wanted to relate to our experience and understand it, they couldn’t. Ryan and I needed each other in order to come out on the other side.
• • •
One night as we were getting ready for bed, Matson told Ryan, “You should sleep in Mama’s bed. It’s way better than the couch.”
“Would you be okay with me sleeping in her bed?” Ryan asked, trying not to make it a big deal, but it was clear he wasn’t sure how to navigate this. When he looked at me for help, I made a face and forced him to take the lead.
Matson shrugged like he wasn’t bothered in the least. “Why not? It has pillows and everything.”
“It does sound nice,” Ryan said, nodding seriously as if he were considering it for the first time, and I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.
Matson leaned close to whisper in his ear, but I still heard him anyway. “And that way when I sneak in, I can sleep between both of you instead of just with Mama. Her hands are always ice cold, and yours are always hot.”
Ryan had always told me that my hands were made of ice, but he claimed to like it, placing them on any sore spots he had on his shoulders and back.
“Well, if your mom says it’s okay,” Ryan said, giving me a sly glance, “then I’ll start sleeping in there with her.”
Matson nodded. “She’ll say okay. She likes you.”
I cleared my throat, causing Matson to jump away from Ryan like he’d gotten caught stealing the last cookie. “Time for bed. Go brush your teeth, please.” I only had to ask once, and Matson practically skipped down the hall after he stopped to give me a hug.
“Guess I’m sleeping with you now, ice pack,” Ryan teased, and when I swatted at his arm, he grabbed my hand and pulled me hard against him. “Ice-pack angel? Angel ice pack?”
“Will you start the hashtag? I still like #CryinOverRyan the best.”
His lips brushed mine. “You would.”