"Ryan said he went to meet your parents on Christmas Eve. I've been so busy, I haven't had a chance to ask him about it. How did it go?" she questions.
Looking down at my tea, I shake my head. "Not well."
She reaches over and places her hand on my knee. "What happened?"
I sit there, trying to figure out where I should begin. I've been so busy the past few days that I haven't had much time to think about our fight. Now that I am searching for the words, the finality of our fight plays back in my head. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, and when I open my mouth to speak, I can't seem to get anything out. I close my mouth and stare into Ryan's mother's eyes.
"Oh, sweetie," is all she says when she scoots closer and wraps me in her arms.
How is it that this woman I just met yesterday seems to read me better than my own mother? Why can't my mother just love me? Why has she never loved me? My thoughts become too much, and I begin to weep quietly as Donna rubs my back. My mother has never comforted me like this, not even when I was a little girl. When I was younger, it was always the nanny who would lie with me when I got sick, or put Band-Aids on my knees when I would fall off my bike. Why couldn't I have had a loving family like Ryan's?
"Do you want to tell me about what happened?" she asks as she pulls away.
Wiping my tears, I decide to open up to her. "We got in a bad fight. It wasn't good. They told me they were done with me and not to come back."
"My God," she says quietly in shock.
"What's worse is that Ryan heard it all."
"Ryan would never judge you for that."
"I hope not, but it was embarrassing nonetheless."
"What were you arguing about?" she asks.
"The same thing we always fight about. They aren't happy with my choices. I'm not good enough. I don't measure up to the name they work hard for." Donna leans over to the end table and hands me a box of tissues. I pull one out and wipe the tears from my cheeks. "It's always been this way, but then at Thanksgiving my mother told me that I was nothing but an embarrassment to her."
"I'm so sorry, dear. No child should ever have to hear that."
"Hear what?" Ryan questions, and when I look up, I see him walking down the stairs. He crosses the room and comes to sit next to me on the couch as I face his mother. I try not to look at him as he wraps one of his arms around me.
"Candace is telling me about what happened the other night."
"Mom."
"It's fine," I say.
Covering my hand with hers, she asks, "Do you have any other family at all?"
"No. It's only ever been the three of us since my father's parents' passed away."
"What about your mother's family?"
"I've never met them. I have never known them to speak. I'm not even sure they know about me." Wiping my cheeks again, Ryan rests his other hand on my leg. He doesn't say anything, he just sits there, letting his mom and I talk.
She shakes her head as if she can't believe what I am saying. Leaning forward, she takes me in her arms again. The comfort I am getting, being held by both Ryan and his mother is almost too much for me, but I know this is what I've been missing my whole life. I wrap my arms around Donna as more tears fall.
Letting go of me, she says, "I'm glad you're here with us," as she brushes her thumbs under my eyes. "I'll let the two of you be," she says to Ryan then kisses my forehead. When she leaves the room, Ryan pulls me back onto his chest.
"Don't cry, babe," he says softly in my ear.
"I'm tired. I don't want to talk anymore."
Ryan gets off the couch, and I follow him upstairs. Walking into his room, I go into the bathroom to take my sleeping pill and brush my teeth. When I walk out, he is still standing by the door. I crawl into his bed and don't even question him when he slides in behind me. He pulls me into him and curls himself around me. Neither one of us moves, we just lie there, snuggled up together. I've never had this before. But there is something about Ryan, about the way he makes me feel, that makes me want this—with him.
Chapter twenty-three
"Morning, babe."
Lifting my head and looking up at Ryan, in the still-dark room, he has me tucked tightly against him. Trying to wake from my sleep, I let my head fall lazily back down on his chest. His thumb is stroking my shoulder, and I blink a few times before fully opening my eyes.
The room is cold, and I sink further down in the bed beneath the covers.
I hear Ryan chuckle under his breath as he says, "What are you doing?"
"I'm cold," I whisper.
"You're always cold."
I roll over onto my stomach and look up at him. "I know."
He reaches down, pulls me back up against him, and wraps the comforter around me.
Aside from Jase, I have never slept a full night in bed with any other man. I thought it would be weird; maybe it would be with anyone else, but with Ryan it feels safe.
We are supposed to be driving back to Seattle later today, and I'm not quite sure how Jase is going to react to this new development. He knows I'm here; I texted him after the fight with my parents to let him know I was going to be with Ryan, but I haven't spoken with him since I have been here.
"Why are you so quiet?" Ryan asks me.
"Just thinking."
"About?"