Page 42 of Love Letter Lost
“If it’s fine, it won’t be a problem for me to look at it,” Ridge shot back.
“I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of my own rolled ankle.”
“I didn’t say you were a damsel in distress. Though, if you were, you wouldn’t be making such a big stink about me checking on your ankle.”
“No. If I was a damsel in distress, I would be passed out and suffering more serious injuries than a rolled ankle.”
“Damsels in distress don’t get rolled ankles?”
I paused for a moment, considering. “They might. But I feel like the focus is on more major problems. You know, curses, kidnappings by monsters, being eaten by dragons. Rolled ankles don’t really rank on the distress scale.” The words bubbled out as I tried to distract myself from the emotions I’d felt earlier. If I could ignore his pronouncement, ignore my emotions, maybe everything would be okay.
“Huh.” Ridge was quiet for a moment before commenting. “I guess I’ve never really considered it.”
“And it would be highly inappropriate to be discussing ankles with your rescuer anyway. In those days, a lady did not talk about her ankles.” I’d kept a surprisingly serious tone throughout the conversation, but my last comment did me in. A laugh bubbled out, and I couldn’t contain it.
“Good point.” Ridge joined in the laughter as we pulled into my condo parking lot. “But since we’re not in the days of knights and ladies, I’m still going to check that ankle.”
I groaned but allowed Ridge to help me inside. Neither Audrey nor Chloe was home, and we had the place to ourselves again. I settled on the couch and watched as Ridge sat on the floor in front of me. He helped me out of my shoes before reaching out to gently lift my ankle and examine it. It was obviously swollen and it hurt when I moved it. However, the pain was overshadowed by the warmth of his touch. I tried to ignore the sensation but felt heat settle in my cheeks as I waited for his prognosis.
“I don’t think it’s anything major, but you’ll want to ice it and elevate it,” he said after a few moments of examination. Ridge joined me on the couch, and I stretched my leg out to rest it on the coffee table.
“I know the drill. I’ve had worse.”
“I can tell.” Ridge picked up my arm and fingered the scar. “How did this happen?”
“You already know the answer to that question.” The words came out quiet, but he still flinched as I spoke, as if each word were a nail driven into his skin.
“I guessed as much, but I’d hoped…” He trailed off before taking a deep breath. “I’d hoped I was the only one left scarred after that night.”
My stomach clenched, his words shifting my memories of the accident. “I thought you were fine. You weren’t taken to the hospital, and then you moved to Florida so quickly after, I just assumed—”
Ridge held up a hand, stopping my rambling.
“Maybe ‘scars’ was the wrong word. I wasn’t hurt physically, but I’ve been battling the memories from that night ever since. It’s why I ran away.”
After everything that happened on prom night, I deserve that.Ridge’s words from the letter ran through my head.
“Ridge, what else happened that night? I mean, the accident was bad, but not something to run away from.”
Ridge stared straight ahead, refusing to look at me. “It wasn’t the accident so much as… what happened after.”
I waited, sensing that there was more, knowing that the demon chasing Ridge was more than an accident he hadn’t caused and the regret of ghosting me after a first kiss.
“My dad’s…not a great guy. He’s always had a temper. Usually, it was triggered by a bad grade or if I didn’t play well during a game. He’d yell, maybe throw something at the wall. It wasn’t great, but my family, we’d learned to cope with it. But that night…that night was different.” Ridge spoke quietly, each word hanging in the room as he painted a reality I’d had no idea he’d been facing. I’d known his dad was intense, but this was more than I’d ever imagined.
“He’d been having a difficult time at work, and my mom had just quit her job, so finances were tight. Learning that my car was wrecked, even though it wasn’t my fault, sent him into a tailspin. I’d never seen anything like it. He was yelling, storming around the house, throwing anything within arm’s reach. He kept ranting about how irresponsible I was, but that he’d teach me responsibility. I thought he was starting to calm down when something shifted. Instead of throwing things at the wall, he started throwing things at me. I couldn’t dodge fast enough. I made it to my room and locked the door, but he just kept at it. Yelling, pounding on the door, calling me worthless, ungrateful. I…I couldn’t take it anymore. And I realized I was eighteen. I didn’t have to take it anymore.”
Ridge clenched his fists, his knuckles white and the tendons in his hands standing out. I reached over, resting my hand on one fist, wishing I could do more to provide comfort as he relived that night. His hand flexed then relaxed, as he opened his fist and laced his fingers with mine, searching for comfort.
“I packed a bag and waited until the yelling stopped and my parents were asleep, before slipping out. I texted Kyle, and while he didn’t know everything, he knew enough not to question when I said my dad was having an episode. Kyle drove me to my grandparents’ house, where I stayed for a couple of days until I could figure out a plan. I had an aunt who lived in Florida. She always told me if I ever needed anything, to call her. So, I did. By the end of the next week, I was on a plane on my way to stay with her. I got a job during the day and worked on my GED at night and didn’t come back to Utah until my parents separated a few years later.”
“Ridge, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” The words felt inadequate, but they were all I could think to say as I processed what he’d told me.
“No one knew. For the longest time, I thought it was normal for dads to act that way, but then I met Kyle and your Uncle Ken. Your family was more of a lifeline for me than you’ll ever know.”
We sat there in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional car driving past outside. My heart ached for Ridge and the nightmare he’d lived through.
Ridge gave a small shake of his head, expelling a deep breath, before letting go of my hand. “Anyway, lots of rest and ice, and that ankle should be as good as new.”
