Page 19 of Pulled Away

“Another awkward night, huh?” I say, throwing my clothes in the hamper when Ryan finally makes it to our room.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Disappearing right after dinner. Snuggling up with your best friend in the gazebo. Incredibly romantic. Romance novel romantic, in fact.”

Sighing, he toes his shoes off. “There was nothing romantic about it.”

“Not from where I was standing.”

“Aspen.”

He reaches out to me, but I step back, shaking my head. “No, Ryan. I am mad. Last night wasn’t cool. Tonight wasn’t cool. Your friendship makes me uncomfortable. There’s a distinct lack of boundaries between you two.”

He shrugs helplessly. “That’s just the way things have always been between us.”

Folding my arms across my chest, I take a minute to take in his expression. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that secrets are the death of a relationship. He’s not lying to me. I see the honesty shining from his eyes, but it doesn’t make it better. I still don’t like it.

“Has any of your past girlfriends had an issue with her?”

“I haven’t dated anyone long enough before you for there to be an issue.” Stepping into me, he winds his arms around my waist. “Aspen, please don’t make this an issue. You’re the only woman for me. Forever. Let’s just get through these following weeks and then things will get back to normal.”

Don’t make this an issue. Why do his words have my scalp prickling? I love hearing him say I’m his forever woman, but does he expect me to just sit back and let things I’m unhappy about slide? If he thinks that, it means he doesn’t know me. At all.

“Okay, Ryan.” Nodding, I step back, away from his arms. I’m not happy, but I’ll let it go for now because of this situation with Hadley’s dad. I need time. Time to figure out if their dynamic is because of the current situation or if it’s normal behavior between them.

Chapter eight

Aspen

Ilove what I do. I truly do. Animals don’t have a voice that can tell you when they’re sick or hurting. They can’t say, “I have this stabbing pain in my stomach that won’t go away, or eating this type of food makes me feel sick.”

It’s up to you to figure out what the problem is and treat it.

They also don’t have a voice to thank you when you help them, but they don’t need one. You can see it in their eyes. Their eyes hide nothing, and there’s no subterfuge or blame or accusation. It’s the best feeling in the world, seeing the pain change to happiness.

But then you get days like today. Days where a dog looks at you with trusting eyes even while you’re administering that last shot, ending the pain that you’re not able to take away. Days where you have to keep it together while watching the beloved pet close their eyes for the final time.

It breaks me. Every time. Not only for the animal but for the owners as well. For the utter devastation on their faces when they say goodbye.

That’s when doubts creep in. Is this what I want to do with my life? Am I strong enough to handle the bad? But then I have to remind myself that the good outweighs the bad.

So I swallow it down and pray that the next day will be a better day.

I stop my car next to Ryan’s, brushing a tear from my cheek. It was hard, but I’ve kept it together all day; but right now, I don’t feel like swallowing it down.

What I want is Ryan’s arms around me. Even though I’m angry at him, he’s still my safe space, and I want to get lost in him and the comfort only he can provide me. To be able to break down and not have to stay strong for anyone. Have him be strong for me.

It’s so damn hard having to be strong and comfort someone when all you want is to break down yourself.

I messaged Ryan just before I left, asking him to have a glass of wine ready when I get home. I’ve done this before and he knows it’s my SOS. That I’ve had a hard day, and I’m struggling.

“Ryan,” I call out while slipping off my shoes and dropping my bag and keys on the table by the door. He doesn’t answer, so I go looking for him, hoping that for once, he’s alone. Not likely, I mutter, since every day for the last week, Hadley’s been here when I got home.

And she’s still as much of a stranger as the first time I met her. She’s consistently shut down any effort I’ve made to get to know her, so I’ve stopped trying, resigning myself that we’ll never be friends.

Ryan doesn’t answer, and he’s not in his home office when I check. Feminine laughter rings out, and my heart drops into my stomach.

“You should know by now that hope only leads to disappointment, where she’s concerned,” I mutter. And yes, seems like I’m talking to myself now.

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