Page 95 of Pulled Away

“So, ten things you hate about me?”

Biting her lip, she frowns at me. “I don’t know, Ryan. It doesn’t—”

I cut her off. “Don’t you dare say it doesn’t matter. I never want to hear those three words ever again.” Just the thought of them sends a shiver through my body. I never again want to experience the helpless feeling they brought. How can you fight against or for something that doesn’t matter? “I want to hear it, Aspen. All of it. You deserve for me to hear it.”

Seconds tick by while we stare at each other. Finally, she blows out a breath. “This is stupid, but okay.” Tearing her eyes from me, she looks out the window. “I hate that you lied by hiding things from me.”

I reach over and cup her chin, pulling her face gently towards me. She resists, her shoulders tight, her body stiff. “I want you to look at me while you tell me. Pain, anger, whatever you’re feeling, show me. Share it with me. Will you let me carry that burden with you?”

She searches my eyes, and when she hesitantly nods, I take a deep breath. “I did. I lied to you. None of my reasons matter. What matters is that my excuses hurt you. It was wrong, and it’s a wrong I’ll work every day of my life not to repeat. If you give me the chance.”

She stares at me as if she’s evaluating the sincerity of my words, and I keep my face open, desperately willing everything that I feel in my heart to be reflected on my face. She sighs, and it’s long and deep, a heavy weight in the car’s stillness.

“I hate that you made me feel as if she was more important to you than me. That you made me feel like the outsider.”

“I fucked up. There’s no one more important to me in this world than you, Aspen. Not Mom, Dad, or Rose. That’s the truth that lives in my heart. But I failed you. I became complacent, expecting you to know my heart instead of showing you. To know that no matter who or what, you’ll always come first.”

“But that’s the thing. You didn’t put me first, or us. You put her first every single time. If you say I’m that important to you, then why would you do that?”

“Because I was a fool.” I sigh, wanting to look out the window, but forcing myself to keep her gaze. I’ve been grappling with the promise I made Dad, but in the end, my loyalty to Aspen won out. A little too late, I know, but from now on, I’m never keeping anything from her. Ever. “Just before college, Dad made me swear a promise to keep what he was about to tell me a secret. And I did. I never told anyone, but now I want to tell you.”

I recount to her what Dad told me. He’ll freaking kill me if he knows I’m telling Aspen, but I don’t care. She needs to know. Not so that I can use it as an excuse, but so that she can understand some of my actions and feelings better.

“I felt guilty and incredibly sad, I guess. That the universe dealt her such a shitty hand. That she was losing her last remaining parent without once feeling the kind of love me and Rose grew up with.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ryan.”

“I know that. But the guilt made me more determined to be someone she could always trust to have her back. Someone she could depend on.” I shrug helplessly. “I thought she felt the same. I told her how much I love you, and I thought she’d be happy for me. I had no idea she wanted me for herself. That she was working with an agenda. I was so fucking blind.” I’m still kicking myself over it. That I didn’t pick up on the signs. That I didn’t believe Aspen.

“She’s gone her whole life not knowing the truth, and I was scared that here at the end, she’d find out. I wouldn’t have put it past her father to make a deathbed confession if he still could speak. I guess his Will spoke for him when he couldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“They were wealthy, and he left her nothing.”

“Nothing?” she asks, her eyes wide. She’s trying to keep a poker face, but I’ve studied her face enough times to see the satisfaction lurking in her eyes, in the slight uptick of her lips.

Can’t say I blame her.

“Nothing,” I confirm. “Asshole right up to the end.”

Should I feel bad for Hadley? No. I’m done feeling bad for her. I’m done feeling anything for her.

“Aspen, I so badly wanted to share all that with you, but I couldn’t,” I continue.

“Because of the promise to your dad.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell him you told me.”

I shake my head. “Knock yourself out. I’m done keeping secrets. If anyone wants to tell me a secret again, I’m running far, far, away. So,” I smile sheepishly. “That’s two. Eight to go.”

“Sucker for punishment,” she grumbles, and I’m not sure if she’s referring to herself or me. “Okay, but I don’t want you to say anything until I’m done. Most of what I’m about to say, you’ve already covered.”

My nod encourages her to continue.

“I hate that you believed her and not me.”

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