Page 69 of The Enemy: Extended Edition

“What!”

“Well, thank you for that. Now I’m going to need a hearing aid prematurely.”

“Mom, how in the world did you know?”

She’s quiet for a second, and I imagine she’s scrunching her nose up in contemplation. “Are you sure you wanna know?”

“Yes.”

“When we saw how upset you were but unwilling to talk about it, Jake and your dad went to Ben’s house to find out the truth.” Those little prying sneaks!

“And Ben told them everything?” I would be shocked if Ben told them the truth.

“Well . . . not until Jake grabbed him by the collar and pinned him up against the wall. Then, he was happy to spill his beans. Poor guy, though. Jake still bloodied his nose.”

I let out a breath of air that’s somewhere between a laugh and an exhale. I wish I had been there to see my big brother punch the living daylights out of Ben. Maybe it would’ve helped me heal a little faster knowing that Ben wasn’t completely getting away with his shit. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys knew? Why let this go on for so long?”

“Darlin’, we all knew this was something you needed to feel on your own and sort through in your own time. I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. We’re here to support you and love you, not smother you.”

Great, now I’m crying again. “Thank you, Mom. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Oh, phooey. It took you just the right amount of time. Some of us need to live through the healing rather than talk through it.”

I smile, wishing I was near her to let her wrap me up in one of her hugs. “Have you ever thought about writing fortune cookies?”

“Are you getting smart with me?”

“Never. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sugar. Now, tell me, is Ryan being good to you?”

My eyes drift toward the closed door as I think back over all the tenderness Ryan has shown me. “I’ve never felt so happy.”

“Good, because I like that boy, and I’d hate for Jake to mess up that pretty nose of his.”

I sputter a laugh. “Me too.”

After a few minutes, I tell Mom I’ve got to run so I can get ready for my date. It’s hard to put into words the way I feel after hanging up with her, knowing what all my family has done for me over the past five years. I feel like someone has injected something warm and gooey into my heart of stone.

Knowing that Ryan is probably waiting on me, I quickly change into an outfit that makes me feel like a sexy woman (a soft cream sweater, high-waisted jeans, and my hair curled in long waves). I step out of my room and find Ryan in the hallway, wearing a suit—one that makes my mouth drop open and drag across the floor as I turn a circle and start to back up into my room to change.

“Whoa, come back here.” He grabs my arms and tugs me around.

Yep. He’s just as blinding the second time I see him as the first. His suit is dark gray and fits him like a glove. Underneath the suit jacket of my dreams is a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, giving him a just-got-off-work-from-my-superprestigious-job look. I will dream of him in this outfit every night for the rest of the month.

“You are way dressier than me,” I say, dismay drenching my tone.

His smile deepens, and he pulls me in close to him. I can smell his cologne. It’s smooth like expensive bourbon, and I drink him in, getting drunk off it.

“You look perfect,” he says against my cheek.

I want to say thank you, but instead, some little mouse speaks. It can’t be me because the voice is too high-pitched and embarrassing.

Ryan kisses my cheek and holds out his arm for me to take. We look like a couple going to prom in this pose, but I don’t care. It actually just makes me wish Ryan had been the one to take me to prom. Wearing this suit. And drenched in this cologne. Never mind, I would have become a teen mom.

In the living room, Ryan stops. I thought we would head for the door, but instead, he’s turning us toward the living room. That’s when I spot cheap Chinese takeout on the coffee table and My Best Friend’s Wedding queued up on the TV. He’s poured us two glasses of wine, and it almost looks as if this is where we are having our date.

Now, I don’t mean to be a snobby person who demands a fine-dining experience for their dates, but I really expected something more captivating than fried rice and a chick flick.

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