Fears and Scars (10 page)

O
n my way to work
, I think about how wholeheartedly I always believed Ryan since he won me over.

Did I miss something else? Is David right about my feelings for Ryan being so strong that I can’t see past them at times?

With every inhale, I try to find the right answers, but I only find more questions. I hate that I’m second-guessing everything.

Then I receive a text.

Ryan
: Love means seeing the light in the dark, doesn’t it? You’ve always seen the beauty in my ugly. Please, don’t close your eyes.

I do believe love means loving every part of your beloved, the good and the bad, the easy and the hard, the clean and the messy. But love also means trusting the person you love. We’ll both make mistakes. We shouldn’t concentrate on the pain they caused, though, but on never committing those mistakes again.

I understand it’s hard for Ryan to watch me struggle. His mother died giving birth to Mark when he was five and since then he’s been his brother’s protector from their heartless, ruthless father. I understand that this is his behavior pattern to protect what’s his. I also know I can take care of myself, and I want my fiancé to understand this also. I’m not used to asking people for help or accepting it easily, but that doesn’t mean he should sneak behind my back. He needs to accept the fact that I’ll come to him for help when I need it.

And suddenly the clarity dawns on me—instead of hiding at work, I should explain all this to him.

I write Ryan a message.

Me:
I love you. And love is about finding a way through our faults. We’ll figure everything out. Together. I’ll be home soon.

R
yan is waiting
in the lobby for me when I finish working. His eyes meet mine and offer a million silent apologies. “I’m sorry, Liz,” he says, reaching out for my hands and holding them between us. “I—”

“Not here,” I stop him. We can’t brush everything under the rug with a simple apology. We need to talk, and here is not the place. “Let’s talk at home, okay?” I suggest.

My insides do a funny little quiver when he raises my left hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it before asking, “Mind if we walk?”

I look down and nod. Walking a few blocks sounds great. I still need time to contemplate everything. Sometimes it’s extremely hard for me to form my thoughts into words, and right now is one of those times.

My fiancé opens the door for me, and I’m pleasantly surprised when the chill doesn’t bite into my flesh. The wind has died, and it’s a rather mild and sunny afternoon.

Ryan’s hand finds mine again as soon as we step out of the building. My heart spikes when he slides his fingers between mine. Suddenly I feel so safe, protected, and treasured. Maybe it’s the size of his hand. Maybe it’s the tender looks he gives me as we walk shoulder to shoulder. Or maybe it’s the realization that he’s always trying to make my life better, even if it’s behind my back that cracks something deep within me. And just like that, I don’t want to have the ‘talk’ anymore. All I want is to tell him how much I love him and appreciate him.

Why, oh why does he have to melt my damn heart all the time? God, sometimes it’s so infuriating how every cell in my body is drawn to him.

I try to distract myself with streets full of bustling pedestrians and honking cars, but after a ten-minute walk, we’re alone in the elevator again, and I can’t keep my hands off him anymore. So I let my arms encircle his waist and hold him in a tight hug.

In the mirrored elevator wall, I notice he has that look on his face he gets when he’s worried about my reaction to something he did. He rarely lets it shows, but I recognize it right away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling away.

His eyes graze over me slowly, tracing every inch of my face until he zones in on my gaze again. “Would you hate me if I told you I went to see Young after you left for work?”

I should have seen this one coming. “I could never hate you, Ryan.”

“He hurt you, and he needed to understand he can’t keep doing that.”

Ryan’s knuckles seem intact, so I ask, “You two talked?”

“I went to beat him to death, but when I threw him against the wall and wrapped my hands around his throat, I realized he wasn’t worth it. He already got the worst punishment there is—he lost you. So I told him that if he hurt you ever again, I’ll rip him apart piece by piece and walked away.”

I close my eyes momentarily and let out a breath. I don’t even know what to say. Plus, the elevator doors have already opened to our floor. “Let’s go inside.”

Neither one of us says another word as we reach the suite, take off our coats and boots, and make our way into the living room. Snow purrs at our feet, full of energy and desire to play, oblivious to the tension between his mommy and daddy.

“I’m not mad at you for David, but I’m disappointed and so sad, Ryan,” I admit when he takes a seat on the couch next to me. “I wish you had told me about the house. You. Not David. Not someone else. You. I guess after the whole adoption truth fiasco I wanted to believe we were in a place where we could tell each other anything and everything.”

“We are, baby. We absolutely are,” he murmurs, gathering me in his arms. I willingly climb into his lap. “I just … I was trying to do the right thing when I bought the house for you. Guess I’m better at being a villain.” His apology makes my eyes water. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Just don’t cry. You can do whatever you want with the house. I’ll sell it tomorrow, just say a word.”

“Don’t,” I say meekly. “I just need you to understand something. There are situations where the decision is only mine to make. Maybe I’m being stubborn and ungrateful, but how can I feel like I’m accomplishing something if you swoop in all the time?”

“I’m sorry I fucked up. I’ll do better,” he says hoarsely, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

I coil my arms around him and lay my cheek on his solid shoulder. We sit like this for a while, our chests pressed together. With every breath I take, I try to find the right words.

“This approach you have—act now, apologize later, it’s not right, Ryan,” I say eventually, looking into his eyes. “Trust is a foundation of relationships. Our future marriage won’t survive without it.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth. As long as there’s secrets and lies between us, we’re doomed. You say you understand everything now, but what happens when you find out something else and decide it might hurt me? No matter how strong our feelings are for each other, they’ll drown in a river of secrets eventually. Because of the woman who gave birth to me, my whole world was built on lies, and I refuse to live like that anymore. I can’t live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. Right now I’m thinking about what’s next, about what else you’re hiding from me.”

He lifts my face and tilts my head back so I can look him directly in the eyes. “I’m hiding absolutely nothing, Liz. You know me better than any other person in the world.”

“I want to believe you, Ryan.”

“Then believe me. Tell me what I need to do.”

He looks at me with those soulful green eyes, begging for me to believe him. I want to, and I do believe him. Only time and his action will be a proof, so I suggest, “Let’s kiss and make up.”

I smile at him, and he returns it before kissing me softly, gently, sweetly, his thumbs making circles on my cheeks. Even his kiss is a plea for forgiveness.

“You’re an excellent kisser,” I point out against his lips.

This grabs his attention, and he pulls back a bit. “What else?”

His ego is robust enough, so not wanting to overinflate it, I tease and have a little fun. “That’s pretty much it.”

Ryan gasps dramatically and starts to tickle me, causing me to squeal, laugh, and beg him to stop. We wrestle a bit on the couch, and Snow comes into the mix at some point. It feels so good to have fun.

“I promise to never betray your trust again,” he vows, ceasing the tickle assault and kissing the corner of my mouth.

“I believe you.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ryan says suddenly, petting Snow, who has taken up residence on his lap after forcing me out of there. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s in my coat. Inside pocket.”

I find a yellow envelope there with two tickets to the Moscow Ballet inside. My eyes quickly scan them. “Oh my God, Ryan, it’s tonight!” I scream like a banshee and check the time. “It’s in two hours. Why didn’t you tell me before? I need to shower. And a dress. Oh my God!”

He laughs a good, hearty laugh at me freaking out.

Doesn’t he understand a lady needs time to get ready for something like this?

“You’re in so much trouble, Price. Stop. How did you know?”

“Nina might have mentioned you wanted to go there.”

“Oh, that traitor is in trouble, too.”

“I hope it’s the best kind of trouble.”

“It is. Thank you.” I smack his lips with a quick kiss and hurry to get ready.

“
M
orning
, Liza,” my boss greets me on Wednesday.

“Morning, Ana,” I reply cheerfully.

The aftermath of Sunday’s fight with Ryan seems to have faded away in the last two days. Last night he gave me the best massage of my life when I returned home from work. The shower sex that followed was even more amazing. Afterward, we ordered in Chinese food and ate straight from the cartons. I was so relaxed and full that I fell asleep with my head on Ryan’s lap while we watched
The Big Bang Theory
. And this morning, I woke to my fiancé between my legs and breakfast in bed. Can life get any better? I highly doubt it.

“Your gorgeous hunk’s waiting for you at the reception. Just saw him on my way up.”

A smile eats at the corner of my mouth. Another surprise. Maybe life can get better after all.

“Don’t be long,” Ana adds, “The staff meeting starts in forty minutes.”

“Thank you. I’ll be quick. The papers you asked for in your email are on your table. Ms. Novak called half an hour ago and approved all the changes you suggested.”

“That’s excellent news. It’s a go then. Call all the contractors before lunch and arrange everything. They should start ASAP.”

“Okay.”

“Good job, Liza.” My boss smiles at me sweetly as she makes her way in her office. She is truly the best boss I’ve ever had. Well, except for Ryan, of course.

During my short elevator ride, I fidget with my phone checking my messages and emails to make sure I didn’t miss something from Ryan. There’s nothing.

As the heels of my boots click against the tile on my way to the lobby area where Ryan is standing, my eyes take in the view of my fiancé in a perfectly tailored black wool coat. God, he looks hot.

“Hey, handsome.”

He presses his lips to mine for a quick kiss, before saying, “Hey, Liz.”

Liz
.

Why does it always affect me so much when he calls me that?

“I didn’t want to bother you at work, but I needed to tell you something in person.”

“Okay. We can go to the café next door,” I suggest.

“Baby, it will take a minute.” There is an undercurrent of urgency in his tone.

Seeing Ryan’s brows knitted together makes me worry.

He looks around the lobby when he says the next words, “I’m leaving in an hour. There’s a matter in New York that needs my immediate attention. Mark can’t manage it alone, and I can’t do much long distance.”

“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t expect that.

“I think it’ll take a week. Maybe a bit longer.”

The thought of Ryan leaving sends a pang through my body.

Since we got engaged in October, he’s traveled to New York twice. Both times for shareholder meetings he couldn’t miss. And both times were two-day trips. This must be important if he is leaving, especially considering it’s so abrupt.

“Wow, must be serious?”

“It is. But don’t worry. Nothing I can’t take care of.” I don’t like how his gaze shifts from me again, but his next words distract me from digging into it. “I know you’re busy, but I couldn’t leave without telling you. I knew you’d worry if I called or texted you instead.”

I nod. Emotions crawl up my throat. I’m already missing him, and he hasn’t left yet.

“Be safe and hug Mark for me.”

“I will, sweetheart. There’s something else.”

“What else?”

“My PI called. He found a partial match to your DNA in a Military registry.”

“He found my biological father?”

He shakes his head. “No, someone related to him.”

“Oh,”

“Is it something you want me to pursue, Liz? Do you want to find him?”

“I …”

Do I want to? I’m not sure I’m ready for this. One day I will be.

“You don’t need to decide right now. I can get a name for you and then you can decide.”

“Okay. Get that name.”

Ryan raises his hand to my face, and I close my eyes as his fingertips trace the outline of my jaw down to my chin. His touch is so tender; I melt.

“I love you with everything I am, Liz. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

He presses a kiss to my lips before I return the sentiment. His tongue sweeps across mine in a slow dance that is somehow different from other kisses we’ve shared. This kiss feels fragile like he’s afraid to break me if he goes too hard, too fast. I savor the sensation of his lips moving against my own, his mouth exploring mine as he takes his time. The relentless fire that only Ryan can ignite burns through my veins.

“I love you, too. So much,” I tell him when we part.

He places chaste kisses on my lips and the corners of my mouth.

“Every moment without you will feel like an eternity,” he murmurs in my ear.

Oh, Ryan.

It’s the same for me.

I throw my arms around him and hug him as tightly as I can. I also bury my nose in his neck and pull in a deep breath, getting lost in his smell. It’s so good to be against his warm, hard body.

His arms fall from my back too quickly. “I’ll text you as soon as I land. Around midnight, I think. It may be late, so don’t wait up.”

“You know I’ll be waiting.”

Then his beautiful smile makes an appearance. It doesn’t reach his eyes, though. The sadness I see there makes me want to hug him again and stay in his arms forever.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay,” he reassures me knowing my apprehension toward planes.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Elizabeth Grace Williams.”

Pure, unguarded sadness pours from his green eyes. I almost beg him to stay. I’m being so silly. He has a corporation to run. People depend on him. So he has to travel unexpectedly for work. It’s not a big deal.

I mumble my goodbyes and hurry to the staff meeting.

For hours afterward, I try to get my head into work with no luck. Something feels off. I convince myself it’s because things have been rocky lately. But the feeling that there is something else doesn’t leave me.