Page 14 of Something Tangled Something True
She blows out a breath through pursed lips and mutters, “I’m fine. Just let it go.”
I finish drying the glass in my hand, tuck it into the cabinet, and turn to face her. “Lola, please. There’s clearly something going on. You don’t need to be so strong all the time.”
Is she upset about something? Am I misinterpreting a battle of emotions with physical pain?
Her sharp gaze cuts to me, her cute little nostrils flaring with annoyance. I shouldn’t be as happy as I am to get this kind of response out of her, but at this point, any attention she’ll give me is plenty. It’s enough to know she’s not in so much pain that she can’t speak.
“All these years, and youstillhaven’t learned how to leave well enough alone, have you?” she grits out, snatching the dish towel from me to dry her hands.
“When it comes to you? Absolutely not, and I never will. I don’t want ‘well enough’ for you, Lola. I want perfection.”
She clenches her eyes shut, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before blowing it out and meeting my eyes with a much softer expression. “Ryder, I appreciate that you care, but I’m tired. I’m going through a lot right now, and I’m sore from moving my things around.Pleasedon’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”
My shoulders sag as I resign, not wanting to push her too far out of fear she’ll shove me away instead.
“I’ll let it go for now, but you’re clearly in pain, Lols, and you don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.”
She gives me a solemn nod, leaving me to sulk with the dishes until she and Mayte leave with Isabela. I’m left alonewith my thoughts racing, full of worry over Lola and what she could be hiding behind a mask of unbreakable strength.
My night is spent restlessly replaying our conversation until I’ve picked it to pieces, and I’m certain her pain was, at least mostly, physical. It was clear in the way her posture was slumped over the sink, hands shaking, and a grimace so unfamiliar pinching her expression. I can’t just stand by and wait for her to come to me if there’s something I can do to help.
Chapter Nine
VIVE UN POCO
SATURDAY, APRIL 26
The morning sunstreams in through the light-blue lace curtains above my bed, but that isn’t what woke me.
There’s someone pounding at the front door, practically rattling it off its hinges.
“¿Qué pinga está pasando?” I grumble, rolling out of bed and padding across the worn-out wooden floors. My parents aren’t out here, so they must’ve already started their day.
When I wrench open the door, the sun is blinding behind Ryder’s head. He stares down at me, his jaw hanging as I squint up at him. All my annoyance from our encounter last night has vanished, replaced with hints of desire that shouldn’t even be in the same room with us.
A shiver races through me as a light gust of wind travels into the house and past my legs.
My bare legs.
“Oh shit,” I say, slamming the door in his face before sprinting to my room to grab shorts or anything to cover my naked lower half, barely covered by panties and an oversized t-shirt.
I hear a light knock on my bedroom door, and of course, it’sstill Ryder. This time, though, he doesn’t wait for me to let him in before he tentatively opens it, the old hinges creaking.
“Darlin’, we’ve gotta talk about this pain you’ve been havin’,” he says, as if he’s already decided on this as a fact. If he wasn’t coming into my personal space, acting as if my problems are his to bear, I’d find the way he’s standing in my room with his hand smacked over his eyes both adorable and hysterical.
One thing he clearly doesn’t remember about me is that I don’t like being told what to do or having my decisions made for me. That’s at the top of the extraordinarily long list of reasons things didn’t work out with my ex-fiancé.
“No. No, we do not. I have it handled, and it’s none of your business,” I tell him, my voice growing louder with each word. It’s possible I’m overly sensitive to this kind of thing because of Russ, but the words had already left my mouth before I could stop them. “And the coast is clear. I have shorts on now.”
He drops his hand to his side, and his expression quickly shifts to one filled with sadness. “Darlin’, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried, is all.”
I huff out an annoyed breath, but I work to calm my frustration.
This is Ryder we’re talking about. Sweet, loving Ryder, who cares about your health.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” I apologize, my shoulders sagging.
“It’s alright. If you aren’t ready to talk about it, the good news is, your pain isn’t the only reason I dropped by.”
