Chapter Twelve
When we park at the garage, I pull down the passenger mirror and swipe under my eyes. They’re red-rimmed and miserable, my skin a little blotchy.
I filled Frankie in on the way home, and he told me I should call Zoey. But I didn’t want to call her yet. I didn’t want to hear I told you so. Not that she would say that, not this soon. But she’d think it.
I was so stupid.
I glance at the office window and see Ray standing behind the counter, looking concerned. She offers me a small wave as she darts a look from me to Frankie. She comes out from the office, hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and Frankie gets out to see her.
I stay in the car for a moment, devastated. I fell fast for Ryerson, too fast, I admit. But I fell completely, and I thought he felt the same. It’s such a sad story, the sort that means that someday there will be statues made in my honor, ones that serve as dire warnings to other lovers. The Patron Saint of Bad Ideas.
After a moment, I get out, and Ray waves me over. Frankie must have told her the situation, because she comes over to put her arm around me and lead me into the office.
“It’s going to be okay, kid,” Frankie says from behind me. I turn back to him, and smile, thanking him for saving me.
The three of us head into the store, and Ray hands me a bottle of water, her elbows on the counter as she waits to listen. Just as I start to talk, a truck pulls up in front of the garage.
Frankie, Ray, and I all look out the window at same time. Ryerson is here, and as he gets out of his vehicle, glancing at Frankie’s car along the way, his posture looks pissed. Not sad and miserable like me. Angry.
“I’ll handle this,” Frankie says, puffing up his small frame.
“Be careful, hon,” Ray calls after him.
Ryerson isn’t going to fight Frankie, even if Frankie takes a swing at him. Which is totally possible; he loves to fight.
For his part, Ryerson holds up his palms the minute Frankie walks outside.
“I just need to talk to her,” Ryerson says.
“Not going to happen,” Frankie says back easily. “If she wants to know you, she’ll call.”
Ryerson groans, and turns toward the office window.
“Mrs. Miller,” he calls. “Can you please come outside.”
“Did he just call you—?” Ray starts.
I ball my hands into fists. Ryerson can’t say that Frankie and I are the same thing as him and Solana. Frankie doesn’t show up and beg me to come home. We don’t share longing looks and a dog.
But the truth was, Ryerson yelling that name seemed to hurt him as much as it hurt me. I watch as he quickly wipes his eyes, and turns away. Holy shit. I think he’s crying.
Ray looks at me from across the lobby, stunned. She’s ready to cry too, and she doesn’t even really know what’s going on.
“His ex-girlfriend is back,” I say. “I didn’t handle it well, but he took her side.”
Rays mouth opens and snaps shut.
“What?” I ask her.
“No offense,” she says sweetly, “but I can relate. Imagine what it’s like for me.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“You and Frankie,” she says. “Imagine what it’s like for me. How close you two are?”
“We’re not like that, Ray. You know that.”
“I do, but love is still love. You still come first in nearly every way but one. I can never compete with you, Cheyenne. Frankie loves me, but for me to love him back, I had to accept that you would always be there.”
“Frankie and I will never—”
“That part doesn’t matter,” Ray says. “He’s your ex-husband, and he’s out there right now ready to defend your honor. And you let him. So before you judge your boyfriend, consider how you’re handling yourself in this situation.”
“Cheyenne,” Ryerson calls again from the driveway. “Come out, please. I’m sorry for—I’m sorry for everything, okay?”
“Are you sorry for the Mrs. Miller shot?” I yell back.
He can’t see me, but he scans the building trying to find me anyway.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Will you come out anyway?”
“Chey,” Frankie says over his shoulder. “Just give me the word and I’ll lay him out.”
Ryerson sniffs a laugh, but doesn’t acknowledge Frankie’s threat.
In the back of Ryerson’s truck there is a sharp bark, and Ray and I nearly knock each other over trying to look out the window.
“Rufus’s not leaving until we talk about this,” Ryerson says, motioning toward the dog. On cue, Rufus barks again.
“That is one hell of a dog,” Ray says, looking sideways at me.
I smile slightly. “Yeah. He’s a beast. I love him, though.”
Ray looks me over, and crosses her arms behind her back innocently. “You talking about the dog or Ryerson?”
I turn to her, and she smiles. I wait a beat, and then close my eyes. “Fuck,” I say. She giggles.
I walk out into the stall, and before Frankie can push me back toward the office, I tell him I’ve got this. He looks at me pleadingly, wanting to spare me from pain.
And maybe that was my bad, always expecting him to. I was broken when Frankie met me, and I’ve let him fight my battles for too long. It was wrong. I get it now.
“Go see your fiancé,” I tell him, hiking my thumb toward the office. It feels a little weird to say, unnatural, but it’s time to let Frankie out of the promise he made me when I was seventeen. It’s time to let him move on.
“You sure about this, kid?” he asks. His bright blue eyes are a little bit glassy, and I realize this is it. I nod, and he nods back, and then Frankie Miller touches my arm as he walks past me to where Ray is waiting for him in the office.
Once he’s gone, I look at Ryerson and see that up close, he’s absolutely miserable. Good. He deserves it.
“You kicked me out of your house,” I say, making him wince.
“I needed to deal with something, and you wouldn’t give me the chance to explain. You called your ex-husband.”
“You told me to wait, and maybe you should have told your girlfriend to wait instead.”
“You’re my girlfriend,” he shoots back immediately. “And I told you I needed a minute.”
“And? Are you moving back, Ry?”
He stares at me. “No. Why would I? My life, my family, you—everything I want is here.”
Although I’m still mad at him, I’m beginning to feel very confused as to why. I cross my arms over my chest.
“And Solana?” I ask.
“She wasn’t here for me, Cheyenne,” he says, exasperated. “She wants the dog. She wanted me to come back to Seattle so we could split custody of Rufus. The sometimes where she stayed over? It was to dog-sit when I was out of town. She has never stayed there with me.”
He looks around at the garage, and then turns back to me. “You didn’t stay to ask, but Solana is married with a baby,” he adds. “Someone else’s in case you want to jump that dumb conclusion too.”
“Oh,” I say, absolutely unsure of what to say next.
“But she and I have been disagreeing about the dog. She felt I didn’t provide a stable environment. But… even after you left, she understood. She gets where I’m at now. She’s leaving. She’s not taking the dog.”
“That’s good,” I offer, looking past him to Rufus.
“Sure, that’s good,” Ryerson says, looking me up and down. “But what am I doing here, Cheyenne? Is this what will happen after every misunderstanding?”
“No,” I say. “Frankie and I—”
“Aren’t like that,” he tries to finish for me.
“Are done,” I say instead. “The co-dependent stuff. It’s done.”
Ryerson’s expression fills with relief, but he crosses his massive arms over his chest like it’s not enough.
“I didn’t want you to go,” he says in a quiet voice. “You left anyway.”
“You told me to get out.”
“After asking you to stay.”
We stand there in active silence, until finally I can’t take it anymore. “So why are you here?” I ask. “Why come after me?”
“Because I’m in love with you,” Ryerson says. “I’ve been in love with you since before you kissed me at the barbecue. I saw those pretty brown eyes across the sea of elderly faces, and I thought, Damn. That is the girl of my dreams.”
I try not to smile.
“And then, when I came over to you, and you tried to ignore me, I thought, Holy shit. This is the girl I’d take home to meet my family.”
I bite the inside of my lip.
“And Cheyenne, honey, when you stormed out of my house and left me crying with my dog, I said to myself, Well, fuck. That’s the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
My heart flutters.
“I messed up,” Ryerson says. “But I am out of my mind about you. I love you, and I think you love me. But I don’t want to just date you. I don’t want uncertainty. I love you, and I want to build houses with you and let you pick the paint colors. I want to have kids with you, and let you pick out their crazy ass names—” He laughs despite his heartfelt speech. “I don’t care,” he says. “Whatever you want, Cheyenne. I just want to do it together. I just want to start our lives.”
I’m quiet for a long moment, not giving away the fact my heart is soaring. “You’d really let me pick the names?” I ask, tilting my head.
He smiles. “Anything you want. Just tell me if you love me, too. Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Ryerson Banks,” I say like he’s impossibly dumb. “I’m madly, passionately, and stupidly in love with you.” I take a step toward him. “And I, too, saw you in the group of senior citizens and thought, Wow—who’s that guy? And when you came up to talk to me, I thought, I sure hope I trip and fall into his arms. And when I left your house with my ex-husband, crying the tears of a broken-hearted lover, I thought…”
I stop in front of him, and run my hands up his chest until I lock my arms behind his neck, getting on my tiptoes. My voice turns serious. “I thought I lost the best bad idea I ever had,” I say.
Ryerson stares down into my face, his eyes watery. “You broke my heart,” he whispers, leaning to rest his forehead against mine. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I’m here now,” I say.
He licks his bottom lip, that vulnerable look back in his eyes. His guard is gone; he’s helplessly in love with me—I can see that. I get up higher on my toes, and pull him into a kiss.
His left hand glides under my hair to the back of my neck, while his right rests on the curve of my low back. His tongue touches mine, and he devours me, devastates me in the best possible way. It’s a claiming kiss. It’s a promise—one I know he won’t break.
The kiss may have gone on for a little too long because Rufus barks from the back of the truck, and Ryerson laughs between my lips. He hums out his relief, and then quickly kisses me again.
“So can I take you home now?” he asks. Before I can answer, he adds, “Our new home. The furniture was delivered to Cambridge yesterday.”
“What?” I ask. “The ones I picked out?”
“They were for you,” he says. “I knew the first time I brought you there—the way your eyes lit up when you saw the place, the way you decorated it, making it a home. It’s yours, Cheyenne. It’s ours.”
I nod, overwhelmed and unable to say a word. How I’ve just gone from the worst day to the best possible day is unbelievable. I never thought… I never thought I could be this happy.
Ryerson reaches to take my hand, the way he always holds it, and pulls me towards the truck. I look back at the office of Miller’s Garage, and Ray waves to me. Frankie rolls his eyes, like this was all a little sappy for his taste, but he nods goodbye.
I walk over to give Rufus a quick pet before getting in the truck, so glad I won’t lose him, either. I get in the passenger seat, and Ryerson climbs behind the wheel, his hand automatically on my thigh like it belongs there.
And he starts the truck, changing my life, and he brings me home.
THE END