RYDER PARKED HIS TRUCK in his usual spot. He’d already been there today, and Tara was surprised to see him back so soon. Her heart swelled with the usual anticipation of his arrival. It still astonished her how often it occurred. His truck rocked on its wheels after he screeched to a stop and jammed on the brake to reduce his much-too-fast approach. He jumped out and entered the café in several long, determined steps. His body language seemed off. His movements were jerky. His expression was hard: mouth compressed and fierce eyes darting around. His hair was more unruly than usual too. He stood in the doorway and their gazes met. She started to smile, but his stern expression stopped her. Shit. Her smile faded at once. Did he find out about her last name? Or that she had lied on the application to work at what turned out to be his café? Did he know the truth? Panic tightened her stomach. She’d meant to tell him prior to this, but it never felt right. She had wanted to say something so many times, and explain who she was, why she had lied, and how she spent the last several years. She wanted to describe the horrible family she had abandoned without sending them a word about her safety or well-being. Not even a note, which was all his ex-wife had left him and his son.

Her fear of the subsequent comparison made the truth much harder to tell. Her tongue seemed thick and clumsy each time she thought about what to say. She also dreaded the way he would look at her differently. She didn’t feel like a homeless waif any longer. She didn’t want to live like the old Tara anymore, or suffer those feelings of isolation. So she just kept her past to herself. Things were going so well. Amazing. It was unprecedented and the longer it went on, the harder it became to tell him the truth.

But he must have known or he wouldn’t be looking right through her now, instead of at her. She opened her mouth to confess her sin but he swiftly cut her off. “Where’s Chloe?”

Surprised, Tara pointed towards the kitchen. Ryder bypassed Tara as if she were not even there. Puzzled, Tara tried to decide if he were angry, however, the strange body language he displayed only intrigued her more, so she followed him. Was he mad at Chloe for doing something? But what? What could it be?

Chloe was busily preparing fresh pies. She glanced up from slicing her apples. “Ryder? Can’t get enough of us?” But her smile vanished and her voice faded. Tara was standing behind Ryder so she couldn’t see his face, but she saw Chloe’s and it alarmed her.

“Ryder? What is it? Something happen to Wyatt?”

Ryder’s head shook in the negative.

“Ryder? What? You’re scaring me.”

He waited a beat before saying in a soft but solemn voice, “She was found, Chloe.”

Who? Who was found? Well, duh. Ebony. That meant Ebony was coming back. Oh shit… that meant a lot of changes for her. But why did he bypass Tara without first telling her? Of course Chloe should be told; she would probably just forgive and embrace her twin sister. But Ryder wouldn’t… right? He’d said that many times. He’d never want her back with him even if she returned. So why would he let Tara find out secondhand, as if Ebony’s return didn’t affect her at all?

Chloe’s eyes were filling with tears and she used a hand to cover up her mouth. Her mouth stayed open in a silent scream. She started shaking her head at Ryder and holding her other hand out to him, shaking her index finger and scolding him. “No! No! No! Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say it, Ryder Kincaid. Get out! Get out! Don’t you dare say it!”

Chloe’s voice cracked and tears spilled from her eyes.

Tara’s hand covered her mouth. Oh, shit. Oh, no. Her own brain started chanting no with Chloe. How did Chloe know when Ryder never said? But now, Tara saw it. The odd, distant glance, the hopelessness… Ebony was dead.

Ryder stepped forward and held Chloe tightly up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her petite frame and embraced her without speaking. She gripped his shirt front and turned her head into his chest, crying out in deep wails that made Tara’s own eyes fill with tears. They streamed down her cheeks and she gasped to avoid sobbing out loud. Chloe’s legs buckled and she couldn’t stand up. She cried on and on as Ryder held her next to him, his hand gently patting her back. Resting his head on top of hers, he said things to her in a soft voice, but Tara couldn’t hear what they were.

Tiana, the cook, quietly left the kitchen. Chet watched the scene that was unfolding before him, his expression solemn and shocked. He remained deathly quiet and unmoving as he watched Chloe sobbing in Ryder’s arms. When Tara and Chet made eye contact, they shared a tremulous, sad smile of understanding.

Chloe finally lifted her head, and Tara caught a glimpse of her face. It was covered in snot and tears and her makeup was running. “B-b-but she sent a note. Remember? She told us she had to leave. That she couldn’t continue living here. And couldn’t be a mother or a wife any longer. She told us. It wasn’t right, and she should have stayed here, but don’t you remember? She told us she had to leave.”

“Apparently, she was murdered. She never left us. Someone made her send us that note. Someone else robbed our savings. It wasn’t her. It was never her.” Ryder’s voice cracked as he said her the last time. He was overcome with grief and misunderstanding as he gripped Chloe harder.

“How do you know? Are you sure?”

“A body was discovered in Rathbone Plains. I went out there. It had her earrings and the necklace I gave her for our first anniversary and… along with her engraved wedding ring. It’s definitely her. There will be an official investigation, but Chloe, it’s her. She never left us. She never did that to us.”

Chloe’s wail was long and shrill as fresh tears filled her eyes. Ryder held her as he glanced up at Tara. They finally shared a look. Tara didn’t know what to think; she couldn’t read him. Or reach him. Emotionally, his eyes were flat. Something odd traveled down her spine and she was not sure what to call it, but she felt viscerally different, although she couldn’t understand why.

“Can you close the place? And pick up Wyatt from school? Take him home? Don’t tell him.” Ryder was speaking to Tara without an ounce of feeling or acknowledgment in his tone. He seemed as if he didn’t even realize she was Tara.

Tara started taking her apron off and used it to wipe her eyes, nodding. “Of course, to all of it. I’ll just act normal around Wyatt. I promise, Ryder. I’ll just act normal.”

He nodded before turning back to Chloe. Taking her shoulders, he eased her down onto a chair and didn’t glance at Tara again. Tara eyed Chet, who was watching them with his own heartbroken expression.

Tara went out into the dining room. “I’m sorry folks, but there’s been an emergency, and I’m afraid we have to close the café early.” For once, Tara found strength in her voice and managed to speak over everyone. She gave each diner a to-go box and issued several handwritten IOU’s. A haphazard and unusual solution, but all she could come up with on the spot. “I’m sorry, it’s… I’m afraid it’s really bad. Here’s your meal, it’s on the house, and a coupon for another free meal on us to compensate for all the inconvenience.”

Finally, after ten minutes, the café cleared out and Tara put the Closed sign over the door. She dutifully turned off all the lights and the neon Open sign before leaning against the front door, her stomach aching with pain.

“Tara?”

She jumped at hearing Ryder’s deep voice and whipped around, hoping he needed her now. She could comfort him. But he simply said, “Here. Take the keys. I’ll drive Chloe’s car home.”

Tara caught the keys. Right. Duh. She had no wheels to pick up Wyatt and drive him home. She nodded. “Ryder? I’m…”

He shook his head rather dismissively and ran both his hands through his hair. “Just, please take care of Wyatt. That’s the best thing you can do for me right now.”

She nodded and her heart started pumping harder. She wanted to dive into his arms and hold him, as well as kiss and hug him, but he turned from her and went back into the kitchen. Tara left to get his son from school.

The truck was unfamiliar to Tara and it felt like driving a damn tank. Her hands sweated with anxiety. She had little driving experience. She doubted Ryder knew that, much less that she had no license. This was not the time to mention it either. She safely arrived at Wyatt’s school. She had to wait another half hour before they got out. Sitting in the parking lot, she waved at Wyatt and his teacher and Wyatt swiftly recognized her. He approached his dad’s truck and burst into a huge smile when he realized Tara was driving.

“Tara. I didn’t know you were going to get me today.”

“Hi, Wyatt. How was school?”

“So bad. Torrance. Do you know what she did?”

“No, what did she do?” Tara asked while she backed out of the parking spot and started driving towards Ryder’s house.

“She totally lied. She said that she knows the President of the United States. I know that’s not true because my dad told me she’s never been out of Silver Springs before.” Tara listened to him, nodding and smiling even though her heart wasn’t into it, much less her mind. Oh, Wyatt. The poor child. His mother was dead. Murdered. How did one deal with such an awful reality? How could Ryder tell Wyatt what happened? Her brain started tripping up at the words he should use to convey the gruesome circumstances. Tara could not comprehend how she would go about telling this sweet, smiling, joyful child such tragic news. Her throat constricted and fresh tears filled up her eyelids, eager to escape. She breathed in harder, trying to keep everything in check. Her task today, right now, was to simply take care of Wyatt. Make him believe that all was normal. And that was it. That was all Ryder asked her to do. He deserved so much more after what he discovered today. She would do that for him in a heartbeat. She could provide all the smiles and friendly interaction to Wyatt, whose mother was found dead today. Tara knew she was strong and reliable enough to do that for Ryder and she eagerly hoped to prove it.

Once they were home, Wyatt ran inside the house and threw his backpack down before rifling through the cabinets for his afternoon snack. When he popped out with a candy bar and a package of string cheese, Tara didn’t say anything, but indulged him. He asked to go outside and they spent a good hour playing together, walking through the woods with Wyatt darting everywhere. Using a stick, Wyatt pretended it was a sword and he dueled with all the bushes as they went along. Stopping at a high swing made of rope, Tara pushed Wyatt as he squealed in delight. Once inside the house again, they played their favorite board games, always the ones that Wyatt chose. Eventually, Tara cooked some rice, chicken, and sauce with some mixed vegetables on the side. Her stomach was roiling in knots and she couldn’t eat.

Finally, at nearly seven o’clock, headlights swept over the front of the house. Ryder. He was home at last. Tara’s nerves climbed up her throat. She couldn’t focus on what Wyatt was saying. Her ears were ringing when Ryder’s footsteps hit the porch and the door burst open.

His eyes were red-rimmed and he looked harried. His usually unruly hair had become a tangled mess after his hands kept combing through it. He stared at her, his mouth tight-lipped with no visible reaction. Wyatt jumped up and ran towards Ryder, hugging his legs as if it were the first time Ryder ever left him. Leaning over, Ryder picked him up and hugged Wyatt’s small body to his chest. Tears filled Tara’s eyes and blurred her vision. The magnitude of their loss, and seeing Ryder desperately gripping Wyatt despite his regret, left her breathless in the face of such a tragic situation. She felt grief. It wasn’t hers, but her empathy towards Ryder and that of his son.

Ryder’s hand, so big and dear to Tara, smoothed over his son’s small back. The contrast of his bigness and Wyatt’s smallness, along with Ryder’s white skin beside Wyatt’s dark skin, his maturity and Wyatt’s youth, and Ryder’s heavy grief intermingled with Wyatt’s happy, childish squeaking and giggles, nearly made Tara’s knees collapse while observing it.

It wasn’t fair.

Not that Wyatt lost his mother and Ryder his wife. But because all this time, he kept blaming Ebony for leaving them.

Tara could read the guilt that was etched into Ryder’s face. She didn’t know what it meant for him and her. And right this moment, she wondered where her place was now in his life.

She slowly stood up off the stool she was sitting on to play checkers with Wyatt. Wyatt was back on his feet with his hand in Ryder’s, who was tugging him forward. He hadn’t picked up on his father’s hesitation or sadness.

Ryder came closer. She licked her lips and met his gaze. “Is… is everything…” Damn it. She had no idea what to say. Is everything okay? Obviously, not. But what else should she say? “I mean, did you get…” She nearly let out a frustrated groan. Usually about now, Ryder would speak for her, grinning and putting his hand behind her neck to pull her forward in a hug, or kissing her head, easily amused at her tongue-tied efforts. She often got flustered with him. So often, she felt unsure and Ryder was first to make her feel more comfortable, less timid, while encouraging her to say whatever she was worried about saying. He gave her the courage to voice her feelings and things that were hard for her to express.

Now? He just stared at her. Blankly. She licked her lips and drew in a deep breath. “I should go.”

He nodded, his gaze completely vacant. He didn’t tell her to stay. Always before, he had asked her not to leave. After thanking her repetitively for her help with Wyatt, Ryder usually tucked her against him, asking about her day as well as Wyatt’s. Tara didn’t realize until now how much he facilitated the conversation, making it easy between the three of them. Without it, and without him, she felt like excess baggage and totally uncomfortable.

“But… I… I can’t actually drive. I don’t have a driver’s license.”

His eyebrows rose in astonishment. “How did I not know that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you must’ve realized I never drove anywhere.”

His gaze pierced hers and his frown seemed exaggerated. He was in no mood to deal with anything so trivial. She licked her lips when his sharp retort surprised her. She rubbed her hands against her thighs. She could only imagine if he realized how much he didn’t know… Shaking her head, she tried to banish the guilt. Not now. It wasn’t the proper time. Not after he just found out the mother of his child had been murdered. The wife he once loved was dead.

He might still have loved her now that his anger towards her was unfounded. No, she didn’t abandon him and Wyatt. Would he realize that and still love her? What… what did that mean for their relationship?

She hated how selfish that sounded. But it was all she could think of as she stared up at him. His tired eyes. His distance. Worst of all, his unfocused gaze.

Wyatt bounced between them. “Guess what?”

Ryder didn’t answer him in his usual way. His eyes landed on her again. “Just… please just stay. I don’t feel like going out again.”

She nodded, and her shoulders slumped. It wasn’t out of his need for her. She thought perhaps he might need her, or want her, or lean on her shoulder to fall apart. But no, he was too tired to face driving her home.

“Daaa…ddy…!” Wyatt’s voice squeaked high as he dragged out his dad’s name. Ryder glanced down.

“Sorry, what?”

“I got a loose tooth.”

He patted his head. “That’s good, Wyatt. Good job.”

Tara found it odd to hear Ryder speaking without an ounce of caring or interest to Wyatt.

“Are you hungry?” Tara asked as he passed her. He opened the kitchen cabinet above his head and took out a glass.

“No.” He pulled out a bottle of booze. Tara wasn’t sure what kind it was. He filled it halfway up before lifting it to his lips and drinking liberally.

He carried the glass and bottle with him, walking past her and into the living room. She followed behind him, frowning at his wide, stiff back.

“I should tell him,” Ryder said to the room in general and not really addressing her in particular. His soft statement made her breath hitch and all of her selfish, pitiable thoughts fled. Wyatt was rapt up with his small cars and lost in his own world. Ryder shook his head, staring down at him.

“Maybe… maybe you should tell me too. I mean, about what happened.”

Ryder froze, his gaze still riveted on Wyatt. His shoulders stayed stiff. He rose in a slow movement. Tara sat down on the ottoman across from him and hugged her knees. “You haven’t said a word to me. What’s going on, Ryder? I only know because I eavesdropped on you and Chloe. Talk to me. Please.”

Tossing back the rest of the drink, Ryder set the glass down. He poured another one and swirled the liquid mechanically, swishing it up and down the sides of his glass. “I found my wife today. Dead. Murdered, actually. And yet I divorced her and bad-mouthed her for years. What do you want from me?” His gaze landed on her. Deadpan. “Not really in the mood to find a way to make you come tonight.”

Tara’s mouth dropped open. He had never once spoke to her with such sarcasm. Or rudeness. She instantly recalled her entire childhood and listening to her father and her younger brother talking like that to her. Rude. Crass. She was always the butt of their jokes or vulgar statements.

She knew he was hurting. And why he was lashing out. She realized he probably felt guilty having her there as a girlfriend while thinking he had betrayed his wife.

She got up and started to pass him. His hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. She paused, staring forward, deliberately not looking at him. Neither of them moved or spoke for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Her heart shattered at his solemn tone. He let her go and kept his gaze focused down. “Stay… please.”

She slowly backed up and dropped down again. That seemed like all he was capable of right now. He wanted her to stay there but he didn’t want her close to him. It was an odd and unprecedented dynamic for them.

“Wyatt. Come here,” he finally said after a long sigh. He rubbed a hand through his hair, shaking his head but determined to proceed. Wyatt jumped up and ran over. “Sit down, son.” Ryder’s voice cracked as he said the word son.

Wyatt finally picked up on the not-so-subtle undertones. His brown eyes grew more concerned and his eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, Daddy?”

“Son… remember when I told you, your mommy had to leave… here, because she just had some other stuff to do? She loved you but she couldn’t be here any longer?”

“Yup,” Wyatt said, his voice so quiet and innocent in its tone.

“Well… see, Wyatt, the thing is… I found her today.”

Wyatt’s head perked up and he clapped his hands together as if he were about to pray. “Really?”

Tara’s heart nearly cracked in two. Tears streamed down her face and she had to turn her eyes away from them. She squeezed her fists to concentrate on her strength.

“Yes. She’s… I’m afraid she’s dead, Wyatt. Do you know what that means?”

Tara saw Wyatt’s head nod and his eyes grew very big. He glanced up at his dad, and his confusion was obvious. Ryder’s eyes were rimmed with tears.

“It means,” Wyatt mumbled, “that she’s in heaven now. Right? She’s with God. And Nana Pearson.”

Tara had no idea who Nana Pearson was, but Ryder was obviously choked up. He grabbed Wyatt and pulled him against his chest. “Yes, son. She’s in heaven now with God and Nana.”

Tara had no idea if Ryder were religious. She had never heard him say and they had never discussed it. He sure as heck hadn’t gone to church in the time she’d known him. He clutched Wyatt closer to him, kissing the top of his head, resting his cheek against Wyatt’s bald little head. Wyatt stayed pressed against his chest and Tara’s tears nearly choked her. Using her shirt to blot them, she wrapped her arms around her legs, curling into a ball as she watched Ryder and Wyatt. It was so wrong. Sad. Heartbreaking. Wyatt didn’t know Ebony. He had no recollection whatsoever, yet he knew he was supposed to be sad. He glanced her way and she smiled a tremulous smile to reassure him. He smiled back, barely lifting the corners of his mouth. Confusion still filled his gaze and he gripped his father for stability and reassurance.

Finally, Ryder cleared his throat and slid to his feet, pulling Wyatt up. “Want me to read to you?”

Wyatt nodded, his hand clinging to Ryder’s. They trooped up the stairs together, but quietly. The house was subdued, and much more silent, as if it too were in mourning.

Tara slid to her feet. She had no idea where she fit in this family anymore. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and grabbed a blanket before curling up on the couch. It didn’t feel right somehow to enter their bedroom. Ryder and Ebony’s bedroom. She preferred to stay right there on the couch. Out of the way. As a guest.

Ryder didn’t come out to get her either.

****

She woke up to a loud knocking and the doorbell ringing. Eyes that seemed pasted to her lower lids practically ripped open as she sat up, feeling confused in the light-filled room. She pushed the blanket back as the front door started to open. Ryder’s couch. She was in his living room. Ebony was dead. And she didn’t know what to do now.

Who…?

She nearly groaned out loud.

Chloe and her parents suddenly walked in. Tara was on her feet by then. She finger-combed her ratty hair as best she could. Chloe stopped dead, staring at her with neither anger nor acknowledgement. Her eyes were swollen and red. She blinked several times as if she were remembering who she was. “Tara?” Her tone was filled with loathing. “Mom, Dad, this is Tara.”

She didn’t have to add she was Ryder’s girlfriend. Ebony’s replacement. She had implied that in her disdainful tone. Mom and Dad were two people whom Tara had already met before, as Chloe well knew. Puzzled by the odd introduction, Tara bit her tongue and kept quiet. Grief. They were all consumed by confusion and grief.

Mom and Dad were Adaline and Kylar Carrington. Usually, they seemed a handsome, still vigorous couple in their mid-sixties. But today? They looked like they had aged ten years overnight. Tara’s heart fell to her feet. Oh, God. This was so bad. And she should not have been there.

She stepped forward. “I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington.” She kept her tone soft and non-confrontational.

“Where’re Wyatt and Ryder?”

“Still sleeping,” Tara replied to Chloe’s aggressive tone.

“Right here.” Ryder’s voice came from the stairs. He was out of uniform now and wearing a t-shirt and navy blue sweats as he came towards them. He embraced Adaline. “Wyatt’s still sleeping. I can go wake him up.”

Adaline shook her head. Her hand trembled as she touched his shoulder. “Let the boy sleep. Did you…?”

Ryder nodded. “I told him.” A small smile brightened his face a tad. “He asked if she was in heaven with God and Nana Pearson. First thing he said.”

Adaline smiled softly, but it seemed to make her face glow and a piece of her soul shone through. Aha. This was where the religion came from. God resided in the Carrington family. With Ebony. Not so much Ryder. “He’s such a blessing. I’m so glad we have him. To…”

Ryder squeezed her shoulder. “Yes, we do. Ebony lives on in him.”

They all nodded.

“He has her joy. Her excitement. Her enthusiasm. Her verve and energy.” Kylar added.

Ryder’s gaze was distant as he nodded and agreed. “He does. He’s…”

Tara stepped back, fidgeting now. She did not want to be there and felt she didn’t belong. They were grieving over someone she didn’t know. Someone whose place she was filling. Her presence there only further emphasized Ebony’s absence. Her heart clenched in pain as she stared at Ryder. He was grieving for his wife. What place could she fill now in his life? As a girlfriend?

No. Nowhere. She had no place in his life anymore.

But she was stuck there, literally, for now. A noise drew Chloe’s gaze over to Tara. Her animosity swept over Tara as she wrinkled her upper lip in a sign of clear disdain. “Tara, would you mind giving us some privacy? We have family matters to discuss.” Her icy tone dripped with resentment.

Tara straightened up, rushing to do Chloe’s bidding and nodding nervously. Her face was solemn as she said, “Of course,” before turning on her heel and taking the stairs two at a time. She gently shut the bedroom door after her but soon regretted her decision to run upstairs. It was like clearly announcing how comfortable she was in Ryder’s bedroom. Ebony’s old bedroom. Tara was comfortable, or she had been. Until now.

She sat on the side of the messed-up bed and gripped a pillow to her chest. It hurt. She leaned over it, her stomach cramping with nerves and rejection. It hurt so much more than she thought it could. Rejection. Not belonging. She’d grown so used to Ryder and his habit of treating her as someone important. As if her needs and wants mattered to him. She wasn’t an afterthought or an omission. Maybe in her own family she was, but until now, she was Ryder’s first priority. She easily grew used to it, expecting it and perhaps becoming a little spoiled from it. She hated to be dismissed from a room. Ryder didn’t seem to care that she was being so coldly addressed and treated almost as a troubling nuisance. No matter what, Ebony’s death was a huge game changer for her.

Depressed and lonely, she quickly set the pillow aside and went into the bathroom to shower. She tidied up her appearance trying to look prim, proper, and unassuming. Wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, she let two hours pass, growing restless. And hungry. When could she go back downstairs? Or go home? That was all she wanted. To go home. Wyatt had to be up by now. Wouldn’t they have to stop their discussion over Ebony if he were? Confused over what she should do, Tara finally opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could. She peeked her head out, tilting her ear to listen carefully, and she heard… nothing. Not a peep. Not a voice. Not a foot shuffling or a door shutting or an appliance being used. Frowning, she stepped out and stealthily approached the stair landing while trying to peek towards the living room. Eventually, she dared to walk downstairs only to find the house empty.

No one was there, not even Wyatt. Ryder’s truck wasn’t out front where she parked it yesterday. What in the hell? Had they forgotten her? Left her upstairs as if banishing her, and then they forgot to let her know she could come out?

Anger flashed through her and she tightened her fists. Damn him! Damn this!

Now what was she supposed to do? Yell at him? Reveal all of her insecurities now that his wife was found dead? Murdered. Left to rot in a swamp. She wilted against the counter. No! Of course she couldn’t do that. Someone had murdered his wife and obviously forced her to write a note to Ryder before draining their bank account. It was chilling to consider such a crime. Ice pricked her nerve endings as she imagined what the experience must have been like for Ebony. She had to realize that her demise wasn’t going to be gentle. Was there no hope of escape? Had she been held at gunpoint? Tricked? What? Tara didn’t know any details because as of now, Ryder hadn’t told her any of them. She knew nothing. And she meant nothing in this situation.

She finally cooked some food to eat and drank some coffee. Eating took her mind off the matter for a moment and she picked her meal into small pieces. This situation was a doozy… What were they supposed to do with it?

Listlessly, she flopped down on the couch and stared out. She wondered if she still had a job. Judging by Chloe’s utter disdain this morning, it seemed doubtful, or that she’d want to work there any longer. The thought of not going to the café, however, tugged at her heart. She loved working there. The comradery she shared with the staff and all the customers brightened her day. She loved having a place to go and something to do that was pleasantly demanding and stimulated her brain, keeping her moving and busy all day. She knew Petra didn’t love her job, but Tara did. She adored it and had no thoughts or desires to work anywhere else. She loved Chloe too and that really tore her up. Knowing the pain Chloe was in, and because of the circumstances, now she would be the last person Chloe would want to see or talk to or be around.

Ryder’s truck pulled in at last, but it was evening by then. She gritted her teeth and fisted her hands, trying to keep her thoughts inside without shouting at him. He mounted the steps with Wyatt right behind him. She consciously let out a long breath of air. She had to hold in her annoyance. Wyatt was there and didn’t deserve to witness her petty grievances after being forgotten and abandoned all day at his house. It really was kind of a big deal. Who forgot their girlfriend? Their lover? Or any person who was still present in their house?

They walked in together and Wyatt was right in the middle of another running monologue. Tara heard the tail end of it, which had to do with his morning schoolwork. Ryder stopped dead after he walked in and found her standing there beside the couch. He closed his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.

Dear God, he had forgotten her. She had hoped and clung, perhaps for too long, to the idea that he wanted her there for him whenever he returned from wherever he went. Or perhaps he was too embarrassed to excuse himself and speak to her with his ex’s parents grieving in his house. All of that might have been the case; but in the end, Ryder had simply forgotten about her.

Wyatt passed him, no doubt clueless of the tension between them. He greeted Tara with a hug and a grin as he wandered off towards the back of the house. She swung her gaze back to Ryder. Her tongue felt thick and she wanted to tell him how angry she was. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to be the Tara he helped her become during the last few months. A woman who was not afraid to speak up for herself. And especially with him. But now? She felt as if she were balanced on a precarious tightrope. She had no idea where her next step was.

“You forgot I was upstairs,” she finally stated.

He walked forward, sighing and running his hand through his hair. “I… We went to make funeral arrangements… for Ebony. I was not in a clear frame of mind.”

“But you forgot I was here. Upstairs, and out of the way, as your in-laws requested.”

He sighed and his hands rubbed over his face as if he were scrubbing it. “Look, Tara, I’m sorry. Okay? I just… yeah, I forgot. There’s a lot on my mind right now. A lot going on. Her parents are… utterly destroyed. Imagine how they feel. It’s so hard for them.”

And for me, Tara thought, but she knew how selfish it sounded so she bit down on her lip to avoid saying it.

“Can you just take me home?”

He nodded. His tone was dull as he swung around while calling, “Wyatt. Come on, let’s take Tara home now.”

Wyatt came bounding down. “Okay.” He ran out first and Tara followed. She was seething.

The ride to Tara’s house was silent. Ryder pulled in and then did nothing, making no indication he would walk her to the front door. He always walked her to the front door. No matter how late at night or early in the morning. She stared at him, her mouth twisting up. He didn’t turn towards her or even spare her a glance. He just gazed out at the front of Mrs. Huskin’s house as if Tara were already gone. Her heart shrunk before it sank heavily into her stomach. He’d withdrawn from her completely. Without a word. Or a warning. Without even a chance for her to argue with him or try to understand. She kind of did understand. He really had loved his wife and now he could again because she was murdered, and not a runaway mom. Having a girlfriend didn’t fit into that. Tears immediately filled Tara’s eyes and the lump in her throat felt as if it would suffocate her. She grabbed the door handle and her voice trembled as she glanced back. “Bye, Wyatt.”

“Bye-bye, Tara. See you tomorrow,” Wyatt replied, as cheerful as always.

Her heart split in two. Ryder didn’t even glance at her. She simply opened the door, slid out, slammed the door, and stepped back from his truck. Without a glance her way, Ryder rested his arm over the seat she just vacated, and stared over his shoulder before backing down the driveway. Once he hit the road, he straightened out and sped off. He didn’t even wait to see her go inside. Something, again, that he always did.

Her heart was heavy with confusion and sadness as she entered her apartment. However, it was no longer what she wanted anymore. Alone and sad, she curled up in the cold, soulless space and cried. For herself. For Ebony. For Ryder. And for what could have been.