Page 58 of The Restoration Program
For an awful moment, she worried that she would be grilled for the remainder of the hour.
Holly cleared her throat. “You know something embarrassing that happened to me the other day? My aunt visited for the first time since my Restoration. And do you know what she brought for me as a gift? A dollhouse. She thought I might like to play house in it. Holy shit, she must think I’m ten! I mean, excuse my language, butfuck.”
A chuckle ran through the group. Nicole lifted her eyes from her lap long enough to offer Holly a tight, grateful smile. But no amount of lighthearted storytelling could ease the tightness in her chest.
Sharing authentically was supposed to help. Right now, she only felt shittier.
Ryan made spaghetti that evening, filling the kitchen with the sweet, spicy aroma of tomatoes and parmesan. Despite the distant, troubled look in his eyes, he took every consideration in preparing her portion. He cut down the thick bands of pasta into sizes that her Program-provided cutlery could manage. Dinner in the living room was as agonizingly quiet as the drive home had been.
Nicole pushed the last few circles of pasta around on her plate, ignoring the drone of the TV across the room. She longed for the days before the accident. Before, stalemates and arguments never lasted more than an afternoon between them. More often than not, they’d forget what they were arguing about and just have sex.
She eyed Ryan’s athletic frame and bit down on her lip.If only.
Now, she was nervous about reaching theargumentstage at all.
She set her plate aside on the coffee table with a delicateclink. Steeling herself, she twisted to face him.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
Ryan didn’t look up from his plate. She wandered over to the remote and stepped hard on themutebutton. The low volume competed with her voice.
“I don’t like the way we left things at the meeting.” She paced back his way. “I’ve known you for five years. I know when you’re pissed at me. Come on, at leastlookat me.”
When he finally did, she nearly lost her nerve to speak. Emotion brimmed in his eyes, and she couldn’t be sure which way the conversation would swing. He heaved a sigh.
“I thought we were a team,” he said simply.
The accusation stung, and indignance blossomed. Nicole threw her hands on her hips. “I could say the same to you.”
“Me?” His volume jumped suddenly, making her hands flinch to her ears. “You’re the one who didn’t give me a heads up about what you were going to say in front of everyone!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me!”
The fire in his eyes dulled. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She lowered her hands, encouraged by the doleful look he wore. “I… I didn’t mean to throw you off guard, Ry. It just came out. I needed to vent a little, like everyone else there.”
Another gusting sigh made his vast shoulders rise and fall. He planted his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. As his fingertips dragged slowly down his face, she caught a glimpse of wetness in his eyes. A lump firmly lodged itself in her throat.
“Ry?” she said softly.
“I can’t stop thinking about that moment when you pulled away from me at the meeting,” Ryan mumbled. “When I was trying to comfort you, and you didn’t want it.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I had a lot on my mind, and I wasn’t ready to stop. You kind of interrupted me, actually.”
He was silent for a few moments. “It was wishful thinking, I guess. I thought since you seemed okay before the meeting, what happened yesterday had blown over.”
“Blown over?” She tried to stay sympathetic, but annoyance surged. “I was shaking for hours, Ry.”
“I know. Iknow.” He shivered, more tears filling his eyes as he regarded her. “I was scared, Nicki, seeing you like that. I was thrown right back to when you woke up after the procedure. I was so happy to see youalive. But then, the way you looked at me, like… like I was some kind of monster.” Wiping his face, he took a steadying breath that didn’t stop his voice from shaking. “Seeing you that way—unreachable, terrified—it makes me feel helpless. Like I’m not enough for you.”
“Not enough? You’re everything to me.”
“But you’re afraid of me.”
Nicole’s heart sank to her feet. She could have denied it outright, but the words wouldn’t come. Ryan looked down. A tear dripped off his cheek.
Instinct flared—the urge to pull him into her arms and let him rest his head against her breast. Another comfort she couldn’t offer him anymore. After gauging the distance, she carefully lowered herself from the coffee table onto Ryan’s bent knee. The denim offered little purchase, but she managed to pull herself to sit on top with her bare legs folded along the slope of his thigh.
