I SIT ON a metal folding chair in the corner of the jail’s visitors’ area. I’m dressed in a turtleneck, puffy vest, and jeans, with my hair tucked under a pink Yankees cap. I keep my head down and one knee pulled into my chest as I wait impatiently.
The room is small, and filled with all sorts. The diversity is staggering—there’s everyone from mothers with their children, to tattooed biker chicks, to groups of guys who look like they belong in a frat house.
And me, the rebel princess.
The correction officer announces the visitor door is open, and he’s no-nonsense about it. He’s young, with light-blond hair, and a youthful face. Everyone in the room gravitates to the left, bottlenecking into a single file to get through the metal doorway. I’m the last one in line, shuffling behind the crowd, my stress level spiking with every step. I enter a large room with huge glass windows, ugly yellow cement walls, and little seat dividers, each with a small stool and a hanging telephone receiver. It reminds me of a kennel. Most of the seats are taken, but I find an empty one in the middle of the room and sit down. There’s a low hum of conversation as we wait for the—I’m really going to use this term—inmates.
After a few, dragged out minutes, they start shuffling in—a bunch of men in dark green scrubs and cheap slip-on shoes. Okay, I won’t lie . . . I was expecting orange jumpsuits. What the hell do I know?
When I spot Ryan, my heart catapults into my throat. He doesn’t look thrilled to see me. At all. My soul crumbles into little pieces on the floor. Right at his feet.
We both pick up the phone when he finally sits down. It takes an eternity.
“Hey,” I breathe eagerly, but he barely even looks at me.
“Alana, what are you doing here?” Ryan’s voice is husky, strained.
“I wanted to see you. Give you some moral support.” I try to keep the mood light, but it’s a challenge, this whole situation is a total downer.
“You shouldn’t have come.” Ryan keeps his eyes trained on off to the side.
“Ryan,” I murmur, “please, look at me.”
He refuses to lift his head, so I wait patiently until he’s ready to draw his eyeline to mine. When he finally does, his big blue, radiant irises are full of so much pain and resentment and despair.
“I love you, and you being in here doesn’t change that,” I declare.
Ryan stares at me callously, and for the first time, he’s openly wearing the scars of his past. “I found Sean,” I go on, and his face perks up.
“Where is he?” Ryan pushes, leaning forward.
“Gone, for now. But my uncle has the sheriff’s department looking for him.”
“Where did you find him?” Ryan asks anxiously.
“Do you really want to know?” I bite my lip.
His expression darkens. He knows exactly where I found Sean. “Alana, you shouldn’t have gone there.” He scolds me.
“I shouldn’t do a lot of things, Ryan, but that’s never stopped me before.”
Ryan immediately drops his head.
“I didn’t mean you,” I clarify swiftly. “You’ve always been right.”
Ryan lifts only his eyes, and they’re cloudy with tears. “You’ve been the only good thing in my entire life, Alana.” He covers his mouth, determined to hide the emotion that’s escaping. My heart separates.
“Then, please, don’t shut me out.”
“I don’t know what else to do. It’s over. My fate is sealed.” Ryan rakes his hands over his face. “I’ve always known I’d end up here.”
“It’s not over yet, Ryan. I still have one card left to play.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He cocks his head up with the receiver to his ear.
“If they can’t find Sean, I’m going to talk to my father.”
“Alana, don’t you dare.” Ryan nearly lunges out of his chair. “Don’t you dare throw your life away because of me.”
“It’s no kind of life without you.”
“There has to be another way. We can appeal? Right?” Ryan grasps at straws.
I shake my head sadly. “Ryan the evidence against you is overwhelming. The decision will never get overturned.”
“So, how is you talking to your father going to help me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I can appeal to his emotional side?”
Ryan breaks down, shaking his head feverishly. “Alana, it’s over, just let it go.”
He’s completely given up.
But I haven’t. I can’t.
“Ryan, listen to me. Don’t get sucked down into a pit of despair. I need you—”
“Need me, for what?” he lashes out. “I’m stuck in here. In Hell. What can I possibly give you now?”
“Strength.” I match his opposition.
“What?”
“Strength. Your strength is my strength,” I state sternly. “Do you remember when we first met, how closed off I was? It drove you crazy.”
“I remember,” he mumbles.
“Do you remember what you told me?”
He pauses, his blue-eyed stare getting lost in the memory. “That showing emotion isn’t weakness, its strength.”
I nod. “You changed my entire life that day, and I don’t even think you realized it. I never meant to fall in love with you, but I liked who I was when I was with you. I like who I am now. And it’s because of you.”
Ryan frowns.
I don’t think I’m getting through to him at all.
“Ryan,” I whisper desperately. “Don’t walk away from me.”
His face falls, recognition written all over it. He asked me not to walk away from him, now I need the same in return. “I would never walk away from you, Alana. I did that once, and it almost destroyed me.”
“Then, please, stay strong so I can be strong. So, I can be strong for the both of us.”
“I don’t want you losing everything.” Ryan’s tone is laced with misery.
“It’s going to happen regardless.” I grip the receiver tighter. “The question is, are you going to be the one who picks up the pieces when it does?”
“I want to be.”
“I want you to be, too.” I put my hand on the glass and a buzzer suddenly goes off. Visiting hours are over.
Shit.
Ryan puts his hand to mine—one, thin, maddening piece of transparent solid separating us. Not being able to touch him is agony. I just want to punch through the goddamn window and grab him. Hold him, hug him, tell him everything is going to be okay.
Even when we both know it’s not.
I watch helplessly as the correction officers herd him and the other inmates away—all of them blending together like a green-clad mob, Ryan vanishing from my sight.
As I stand there, I feel unexpectedly cold, empty and desolate.
It’s the identical to the feeling I experienced when I watched Sean disappear.
And suddenly I’m alone, powerless, and want to fucking cry all over again.