#mywholelifeinonelittlepackage
I TAKE IN a huge breath of muggy Chicago air as I step off my flight home. It may not smell pleasant, but it does smell like home. My trips back and forth between New York and LA have been ongoing for two weeks now, with no time for a stop home in between.
Opening two new offices at the same time was overly ambitious. I’m not sure I’ll do it again. As soon as I get things rolling at one office, something inevitably comes up at the other one.
Things are good now, with the New York office officially open and the LA one opening soon. I’m finally comfortable going home and leaving things in the hands of my managers at each branch.
I couldn’t be happier it’s Friday night. I don’t have to go into work tomorrow for the first time since I left Chicago. There was no reason to take weekends off in New York and LA. It’s a little after eight p.m., so I might be able to catch Jack before he goes to bed. I hope so. I missed him terribly.
After I see Jack, all I want to do is take a hot shower and change out of my comfy travel clothes—yoga pants and a T-shirt—into clean yoga pants and a T-shirt. Then I’m planning to talk to Carmen for a while, eat, and get an amazing night of sleep.
Ryan and I have been messaging off and on, but with my work schedule, it’s been tough. What little extra time I have is mostly spent talking to Carmen. Jack has been forgetting things and losing his coordination more frequently. I know it’s hard for her to talk about it because of what it means, but I also know that if she wants to talk about it, I need to drop everything and be there to listen.
One of my investors owns a car service, and I’m grateful she offered me free rides anytime I’m traveling. I’m so jet-lagged I don’t even feel like driving, and it’s nice to have the driver pile my bags into the trunk and deal with traffic while I zone out in the back seat.
I actually fall asleep on the twenty-five-minute trip to my place, and I wake up disoriented when the driver opens my door.
“Thank you,” I murmur, handing him a tip.
He helps me in with my bags, and as soon as I close the door behind him, Carmen is standing in the living room. She’s wringing a dishtowel in her hands, her cheeks streaked with tears.
“Oh my God, what is it?” I drop my bag and run toward her, my arms open.
My heart races with worry as she cries. After a few seconds, she pulls herself together and says, “Jack. He’s getting confused and forgetting things . . .” She closes her eyes and sighs deeply. “And I keep it together in front of him, because I don’t want him to know, but—”
“It’s okay.” I hold her tightly, my heart hurting for her. “I’m here now. You can let it all out to me.”
She pulls back, gives me a sad smile, and swipes her fingertips beneath her eyes. “Thanks. But I need to figure out how to be honest about Jack’s illness in front of him. I’ve been talking to my therapist about it, and I get why I’ve hidden it from him until now. I was in denial myself, and I wanted him to feel normal. But . . . he’s terminally ill.”
I shake my head, a lump burning my throat. “How do you make a six-year-old understand that?”
“I’m supposed to give him the answers he asks for, as gently as I can.” She sits down on the couch, wringing the towel between her fingers again. “I just don’t want to break down in front of him, even though my counselor says it’s okay if I do. I want to be strong for him.”
“I know.” I sit down on the coffee table so I’m facing her. “But there’s no right or wrong way to do this, Carmen. And as hard as it is to talk about, or even think about . . . there are things you should say to Jack while he can still understand them.”
She sniffles, tears pooling in her eyes. “Should I tell him I’d give my life for him? Because I would. I ask God all the time why it’s him and not me. I don’t want to live without him, Sienna.”
Her expression is pure agony. I ache for her. But she needs me to hold her up right now, not crumble.
“You should tell him he’s the best thing that ever happened to you.” My voice breaks as I say it. “Show him the photos of you holding him and tell him that was . . . the greatest day of your whole life.”
When she closes her eyes, tears course down her cheeks. “It was.”
“Tell him you’ll love him for every second he’s on this earth, and every second after. And that . . .” I take a breath, trying to compose myself. “That you never would have understood unconditional love without being his mom.”
She nods. “I do need to tell him those things. I will.”
“What can I do?” I reach out and put my palms on her knees. “Just tell me. Anything in the world.”
“You’re already doing it. Being able to spend every minute he’s awake with him and not have to worry about money is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me, or ever will.”
“I love you both,” I say softly.
“And we love you.” She pats one of my hands and then gestures at her wrist. “This thing is a lifesaver, you know.”
“You like it?”
She glances at the rubber bracelet with a small monitor attached to it. It looks like a fitness tracker, but it’s actually a device I had made for her. She attaches a monitor to Jack when he goes to bed, and the monitor on her wrist will buzz and sound an alarm if Jack’s vital signs change.
“It’s amazing. I can take showers. Long, hot, amazing showers. I was just in the kitchen baking completely by myself. Before, I felt like I needed to be at Jack’s side every second, even when he was sleeping.”
“I was hoping to catch him before he went to bed.” I look over at the stairway, half hoping to see Jack peering at me through the rails, grinning.
“He was tired tonight. Long day.”
“I’m sorry.”
She gives me a half smile and says, “You know how they say when it rains it pours?”
I nod.
“Well, in addition to Jack having a really bad day today, I found out his dad is in prison. Danny is serving a seven-year term that started a year ago.”
“Oh, shit. How’d you find out?”
“He emailed me asking for money.”
I arch my brows. “I hope you told him to fuck off.”
“I just deleted the email.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t even deserve acknowledgement. What I’m bummed about is that it means Jack will probably never see him again. And as stupid as this is, I really thought it was Danny who sent that Darth Vader and his team of Stormtroopers. For a stupid, crazy minute, I thought it might even be Danny in that suit.”
I sit up on the coffee table, remembering the Star Wars flash mob in front of my house. “Well, if it wasn’t Danny, then w—” I go completely still.
“What?”
“Team of Stormtroopers,” I murmur. “Holy shit, Carmen.”
“The way they all jogged away in formation like that, it was like—”
“It was like a football team. Because it was a football team.”
“Ryan,” she breathes.
“Ryan.”
She breaks out in a slow, wide smile. “Sienna . . . that man is incredible. If you don’t go to him right now and kiss the hell out of him, I’m going to kick your ass.”
My heart flutters wildly. “Now? But it’s late, and I don’t know where he is, and I look like—” I glance down at my clothes “—hell. I look like hell. Maybe I should just—”
Carmen interjects, looking me square in eyes. “Are you wearing deodorant?”
“I put some on this morning.”
“Then get your keys and go. I’ll find out where Ryan is and text you.”
I furrow my brow. “How can you find out?”
“Coop.”
“Oh.” I’ll have to digest that bit of information later. “Okay.”
“Go.” She gets up and plucks her cell phone from a nearby end table.
“Okay.” I stand up and run a hand over my hair, my blood pumping with excitement and affection for Ryan at the same time.
He was Darth Vader. I feel it in my heart without even getting his confirmation. The things he said to Jack, and the way the Stormtroopers stood in formation, jogging away on his command . . .
How did I not figure it out sooner? I guess, like Carmen, I wanted to believe it was Danny. But Ryan gave Jack a beautiful gift that day. He made him believe his father took the time to do something special for him.
Carmen is right. It doesn’t matter what I look like right now. I grab my keys and bag, then scramble out the door.
By the time I’ve made it to my car, unlocked it and gotten inside, there’s a message on my phone from Carmen.
CARMEN: He’s coaching a football game at Oakhurst High School. Got get him, girl.
I punch the school’s name into my GPS, take a deep breath, and start driving.
When I walk into the Oakhurst football stadium, I’m greeted by a sea of blue shirts and hats in the stands on the home field side. Based on the posters being waved in the air, the school mascot is an eagle.
Oakhurst is an upscale suburban school, and the stadium grounds are immaculate. The dark green field is wrapped by an enormous track, and the scent of popcorn and grilled pork chops fills the air.
I glance at the scoreboard and see that Ryan’s team is up 27–7 in the fourth quarter. There are only two minutes left. Perfect.
My pulse is pounding as I walk over to the Eagles’ sideline. When I see Ryan, my stomach flutters with nervous excitement. He’s wearing a royal blue polo with his team’s logo, his biceps and shoulders fully filling the sleeves, and a gray Eagles baseball hat.
He looks down at a clipboard, says something to an assistant coach, and then crosses his arms over his chest to pay attention to the game as it resumes.
I’m drawn to him, still approaching even though I can’t talk to him during the game. That is, until a security guard steps into my path, shaking his head.
Damn. I’ll have to settle for staring at Ryan’s broad back while I wait, which is at least a nice view. When he turns to the side and I see his clean-shaven profile, it sets in for the first time how unbelievably handsome he is.
I knew he was attractive before, but right now, I can feel it. As my eyes slowly take in the lines of his body, I wonder how I ever could have been confused about my feelings for him. Am I in love with Ryan? At this moment, I can’t honestly answer yes. But could I be, in time?
Hell yes. I’ve never wanted to dive headfirst off a cliff for any man the way I want to for Ryan right now.
The clock ticks down painfully slowly, stopping constantly just to taunt me. I tap my foot on the ground anxiously as I wait
Finally, in the last minute of the game, the clock isn’t stopping constantly anymore. Even with the game well in hand, Ryan is wearing a serious expression, nodding solemnly at something a player says to him.
When it ends, the crowd erupts in cheers, and my heart rate accelerates as I run toward the field. I call out his name as I get closer, but he can’t hear me over the sounds of celebration.
He’s smiling his satisfied grin, his brown eyes sparkling. God, he looks good. I yell his name at the top of my lungs as I rush forward, and he turns.
I’m breathless as I cover the last twenty feet separating us, and when I reach him, his eyes widen with surprise.
“What are you doing here?”
I’m still breathing heavily as I say, “You’re Darth Vader, aren’t you?”
His grin fades, and he looks away. “I didn’t do it to impress you.”
“How did you know?” I put a hand on his wrist, needing to feel him. “How did you know that Jack loves Star Wars and his dad hasn’t been around?”
“Coop told me his dad’s a deadbeat a while back. I stopped by your parents’ place to pick up some stuff they were donating for a fundraiser at the school, and your mom told me the rest.”
“So you did that Star Wars thing just for Jack? Did Coop know?”
Ryan shakes his head. “No one knew but me and . . .” He gestures to the group of players jumping up and down in a huddle behind him.
“The Stormtroopers.”
He nods. “I didn’t want anyone to know either. It wasn’t about you, Sienna. I don’t want you to think I was trying to—”
I interrupt him. “Ask me out.”
He cocks a brow in surprise.
“Ask me,” I repeat.
“I didn’t do it so you’d go out with me.”
“And I don’t want to go out with you because you did it.”
He gives me a skeptical look. “Then why are you telling me to ask you out right after you figured it out?”
“Ryan Lennox.” My voice is louder than I intended. “Ask me out. You said you love me.”
A few players turn in our direction.
“I do love you. But you said you don’t have time for even one single date. The only thing that’s changed since then is you finding out about the Star Wars thing.”
Tears of frustration sting my eyes. “So, you won’t do it, then?”
He moves his hand so my palm slides from his wrist and into his gentle grip. “I want more than just a date, Pup.” His dark caramel eyes hold me in a trance.
“I do too. But we have to start there, don’t we?”
More people are listening to us now, but Ryan doesn’t seem to see anyone but me.
“You’re sure you want this? Because once I have you . . . I’m not letting go.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, but I do. I want this.” My heart pounds against my ribcage as he holds my gaze for a full second.
Then, he sweeps me off my feet in an embrace that takes my breath away. His players cheer as he spins me in a circle and then sets me down.
“Will you go out with me?” he asks softly as he looks down at me.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I cup his cheeks, lean forward, and kiss him. He tastes like cinnamon, and his stubble scrapes against my lips as he bends and wraps me into his arms again, dropping his clipboard and deepening the kiss.
People from the stands are cheering now too. I laugh lightly as Ryan pulls back for just a second and then kisses me again. He’s all warmth, solid strength, and longing. Nothing has ever felt as good as this.
I don’t feel hope or regret right now. I’m not looking forward or backward. It’s just a moment of pure joy I let fill me from head to toe, and it’s utterly perfect.