“No,” I cut in. “You need to talk to a professional.” I swallow past the aching lump in my throat.
The alarm on his face chills me to my bones. “You think I’m capable of what he did. That I have that in me.”
“What? No—” I shake my head. “No. I think you’ve been carrying around this baggage for too long, and the scars it’s left behind… I’m not Alyssa. No matter how much I apparently look like her, even speak like her, I can’t offer you any form of forgiveness. For you or your brother.”
“Fuck. I know. That’s not—”
“And I’m so, so sorry about your brother. He’s awful, but he’s sick, Ryder.” I shake my head, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. Too much is pounding against my brain, and I can’t grasp each individual stream. I need to leave. “But there’s nothing I can offer you in means of purging this guilt from yourself. I’m sorry for how you were treated in high school. And, God, I feel so badly about that. I can’t even imagine what it must have felt like to have your torment splashed all over the Internet. I’m sorry.”
He physically deflates. Acceptance at my words inevitable. “But…?”
“But,” I continue. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust that you want me.”
And, oh, it hurts so badly to hear myself say it aloud. It’s the truth, though. Now that I understand what Ryder saw in me—another girl—I’m mortified. I would be the most pathetic form of loser to cling to this dysfunction.
“Please understand,” I say. “For me…this is a big deal.” Because if you knew how hard it was to look in a mirror already… I can’t let him do this to me. I’ll never be able to move past this—it’s too demeaning. Like accepting I’m second for him, and I’m so sick of not being someone’s first. Of not being enough.
I’m so relieved I never told him about my illness. I’d only look that much more weaker in his eyes.
I move toward the door, but he steps in front of my path. “Don’t let Jake infest your mind with his shit,” he says. “It’s not true, Ari. I told you. It was a split second…then you were Ari. My Ari.”
I huff out a long breath. “Ryder, please. I really just need to be alone. Please understand.”
The hurt in his eyes tears through me. His shoulders rise, his chest expanding on a deep breath. Then he reaches behind him and cracks open the door.
Stepping to the side, I hang my head and go to move around him, and his arm ensnares my waist. He crushes me to his hard chest. His rough palm glides along my jaw, tipping my head back. “There’s only you,” he says before his mouth is on mine.
Sweet, arresting agony splinters through me, consuming, yearning. His lips bruise mine in a primitive display of ownership. My hands inadvertently seek his hair, wanting to bring him closer still. Longing to lose myself in him, in his kiss, so the unbearable heartache will be forgotten.
It’s all I can do to pull away, my breath shuddering as I say, “Give me time, Ryder.” Then I push at his solid chest to break his hold. “I need to…figure some things out.”
He reluctantly releases me. “This isn’t over,” he says, his voice a discerning truth. “Whatever you need, I’ll give you. But I refuse to let you give up on us.”
I stare into his face, memorizing the way he looks in this moment. Then leave.
26
Ryder
After practice, I quickly shower and dress, wishing I’d taken longer, dragged out the mundane tasks. Because now, as I sit on the bench in the locker room, staring at my phone, I’m at a loss with what to do with myself.
I’ve never been so out of focus before. Always had a goal. Even if it wasn’t ultimately my goal, I always had the next step ready to take. And for three days, I’ve been anything but focused. Coach has been drilling me hard, prepping me for my transfer to the big leagues, his way of showing me how proud he is. But even the long, grueling hours working my body to its breaking point doesn’t tire me out. I’m more edgy than ever.
Driving my hand through my wet hair, I stare down at my phone as if it’s keeping answers from me. It’s been three days since I last spoke to Ari, but it feels fucking longer than that. I want to punch myself. I’m so sick of hearing my own whiny voice in my head, bemoaning my dumb shit. And that’s exactly what it is; dumb. Because if Ari could just trust me—could just believe in me—she’d see how much I care for her. How my feelings for Alyssa were completely superficial, and that I only suffered her memory for years because of Jake’s actions.
I look at Ari—and I only see her. She’s utterly erased all traces of Alyssa from my mind. What’s left behind is simply the regret that I didn’t figure all this out sooner. I’m sorry for what my brother did, but it was him, not me.
I might have been unable to face Alyssa afterward; I was weak, selfish, pathetic—whatever people want to accuse me of being, because I simply took off and never looked back. I’m wrong for walking away from Alyssa like a coward—but I’m stronger now. I won’t let Ari just leave. History does not get to repeat itself here.
And no matter how much guilt I harbored, I did make it my personal business to check up on Alyssa. Make sure the damage my asshole brother inflicted didn’t mess her up.
I talked with friends from my hometown and heard about how she went off to college. How she got engaged. How when she comes home she seems truly happy. If I’d ever found out that she couldn’t mentally recover, I’d have figured out a way to help her. It just never came to that.
High school ended. People left the scandal in the past—only I seemed to dwell on it until it mutated into a beast that threatened any relationship I may have had. I’m glad that Alyssa moved on. Now it’s my turn.
Three days is long enough to mourn my crippled ego and let Ari continue to hurt. It’s too long to allow her the chance to slip away. I won’t let her decide to run away from us; I’ll find a way to prove to her…whatever it takes.