Page 77 of Stolen Dreams

No, it’s not. But it explains his defense mechanism. His need to throw up internal walls, mask his emotions, and keep people exactly where he wants them, in his control.

“The last time I let someone all the way in and left myself completely exposed, she kidnapped our child in the middle of the night, changed her number, and disappeared. Six years.” He drops his head onto the back of the couch and sighs. “I searched for him for six years before she showed up out of the blue, signed over her parental rights, and told me shecouldn’t do it anymore.” He scoffs. “Not that she wanted to be a parent in the first place. Which is the biggest irony of all.”

Closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Since his return, Tucker’s been in therapy. It took weeks for him to not fear me or my parents.” He pauses and swallows. “We were strangers. He barely said a word the first year. Acted out daily or curled into a ball on his bed. For months, he was terrified of the dark but wouldn’t let me stay in the room with him. We saw progress, but nothing monumental. The therapist said it could take several years for Tucker to recover.”

He rolls his head on the cushion and meets my gaze. His dark, glassy eyes steal my breath as we simply stare at each other.

“Until you.”

What?

He must see the confusion on my face.

“Tucker has opened up more in the past six months than he did the whole year prior. I attribute a few things to that.” Another pause. “But since the last week of school, he’s been more… of a kid. Carefree. Silly. Affectionate.”

Does Ray know about my talk with Tucker? Wouldn’t be bad if he did; just surprising. Most students don’t relay our sessions to their parents. The only time I do is when further guidance is needed or the child is a danger to themselves or someone else.

“We haven’t been seeing each other since the last week of school,” I pose.

“True.” A slow smile softens his expression. “But Tucker knew you by name the first day of cooking school. He hugged you. In that moment, I knew it was you.Youbrought Tucker back to life.”

I’ll never forget the fierceness of his hug that day, the way his face lit up.

“The only people Tucker hugs are me, my sister, and my parents. And it was months before our first.”

Warmth blooms in my chest and roots itself beneath my breastbone. I love all my students, but a select few have my heart. Tucker is one of them.

“Sorry we veered off track. I just needed to put that out there. Give you some backstory.”

Unable to stand the distance between us, I scoot closer to him, enough to rest my hand on his forearm. “Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with that piece of you.” I stroke thelines of his tattoo with my thumb. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.”

He shifts his arm and takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers. “I know. I’ve never hated myself as much as I did in that moment.”

“I felt used.” I yank my hand from his, needing zero distractions. “Like a notch on a bedpost. A convenient lay.” I cross my arms over my chest and shiver. “A conquest.”

He sits up straighter, turning until his knee bumps mine. “You arenoneof those things. I did not use you, and I hate that you think otherwise.”

“What am I supposed to think?” I pin him with a glare. “If our roles were reversed, how would you feel?”

Silence stretches between us.

“Exactly.”

He reaches for and takes my hands, his rough thumbs stroking my skin. “I learned long ago to not set expectations with other people. Hard lesson.” Sadness lines his eyes as he shrugs. “But I will do whatever it takes to make this right.”

“I won’t make it easy.” The words are out before I have a chance to filter my thoughts.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to.”

A nagging voice in the back of my head says there has to be more to it. If he panicked, why would he ghost me for days? Why wait until we bump into each other to reach out?

Since he sidled up to my and Clarissa’s table at the end of May, Ray has pursued me. He made his attraction to me evident. Asked for a date and wouldn’t give up until I said yes. Gave me a nickname and never shied away from his feelings.

We went from all to nothing, and it doesn’t line up.

“Why didn’t you reach out?”

He pales and closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before meeting my gaze once more. “After you left Sunday, after Iliterally screamed at the heavens for my fuckup, I went inside, cleaned up, then considered texting to apologize.”

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