Page 7 of Faking It With the Single Dad

His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think I’ve struck a nerve.

“I’ve tried,” he says, his voice quieter but no less firm. “But you’ve said that you don’t want my help. So what’s the point?”

“That’s rich. Helping me isn’t the same as meeting him, Ryan. Luke doesn’t even know who you are.”

His eyes narrow, and there’s a sharp edge to his tone when he replies. “Whose fault is that?”

“You can’t just waltz in here after all this time and act like it’s my fault. Caleb walked away. Not me.”

Ryan leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. His calmness is annoying me. “And I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces ever since,” he says, his voice controlled but cold. “Or did you forget the times I offered to help?”

My lips press into a tight line. Of course I haven’t forgotten. He showed up several times after Caleb left me high and dry, always with the same gruff, no-nonsense offer. Each time, I refused.

“You mean the times you barged in and acted like you could fix everything with a checkbook and a bossy attitude?”

His eyes darken, but he doesn’t deny it. “I was trying to help, even if you were too stubborn to see it.”

“Stubborn?” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s funny, coming from you. You’re the most arrogant, overbearing person I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re the most infuriatingly proud,” he retorts without missing a beat.

The air in the shop feels thick on my skin. We’ve not even spent ten minutes together and have already fallen into our old habits. We can’t be in the same room without clashing.

I take a deep breath to try to calm my frustration. It’s no use. Ryan always had a way of getting under my skin without even trying, and that clearly hasn’t changed.

“You don’t get it, Ryan. I didn’t need your help then, and I don’t need it now.”

“Could’ve fooled me. This place looks like it’s barely hanging on.”

The comment stings more than I’d like to admit, but I refuse to let him see it. “If you’re just here to criticize me, you can leave,” I snap.

He holds my gaze momentarily, then sighs and leans back in his seat. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

His lips twitch, but the almost-smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I genuinely wanted to know how you were doing. That’s all.”

For a moment, the sincerity in his voice throws me off balance. It doesn’t erase the frustration, but it softens the edges just a little.

“I’m fine,” I say quietly.

Ryan leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

I shake my head. “I’m not some charity case, Ryan. I can handle myself.”

“Is that so?” His voice is skeptical, but there’s no malice in it.

“Yes, it is.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches between us until he finally breaks it.

“Luke…how’s he doing?”

The question catches me off guard, and I glance at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But he looks genuinely curious—concerned, even.

“He’s fine,” I say, my voice softer now. “He’s a good kid.”

Ryan nods as a small, almost invisible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

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