Page 55 of Impossible

Chapter Twenty-Three

Liam

“Riley!” I shout as she runs away from this disaster unfolding in front of us.

I can’t believe this is how the night has gone. I thought I was bringing someone special to be a part of my family's tradition. Somehow, we got insulted by my sister and now my... mother-in-law. Do I even call her that anymore? Sounds bad when I say it like that. What I fail to understand is how these people who claim to love me, insult and accuse me of dishonoring my deceased wife.

When I reach the front door, I’m just about to take off when Jackson stops me.

“Let me go! What the fuck?” I turn to him with rage coursing through me.

“Dude, let her go. I’ll go after her and bring her home. You need to stay here and deal with everyone else.”

“What Ineedto do is go make sure Riley is okay!” I say, turning towards the door again, this time stopped by Jackson grabbing my arm.

“I know you want to go after her. But I’m telling you, there is nothing you can say right now that will make this better until you settle the drama over here.”

I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I need to make sure everyone here knows what I think about their opinions before I try to make sure Riley’s okay. I need her to know that what they say has no bearing on my feelings for her. I’ve been through enough crap to worry about other’s judgements when it comes to what makes me happy. The irony of all of this, is that Becca taught me this. I used to care a lot more about what others thought of me. Becca showed me that everyone will have their opinion on how you live your life, but all that matters is that you follow your intuition. It will never steer you wrong when you are in line with yourself. You know the truth by the way it feels, and I know what I feel.

“Fine. I’ll stay back and handle them. You better call me, so I know she is okay.”

“I promise I will call you as soon as I get her home.”

I nod at him and head for the back room where I find everyone standing in a circle in the kitchen. The mood is tense as I put my hands in my pockets and stroll towards them. Greyson is now holding Harper as she swats at him to get his nose, laughing as he keeps dodging her attempts. Mom and Dad seem a bit uncomfortable while Robert has his arm around a crying Shirley. I know this was a big step for Shirley to come here with the constant reminder of what she and everyone around her has lost, and I do feel bad that she found out how she did. But the things she said, accused me of, accused Riley of, were a bit too far.

Once I reach the group, they are all looking around at each other and back at me, waiting for someone to speak first. I decide to put everyone out of their misery and say my peace.

“I just wanted to apologize to everyone for tonight. Not for bringing Riley or because I think the two of us are doing anything wrong, but for not letting everyone know beforehand what to expect. This has been a roller coaster of a year for all of us, and we’ve all suffered a great loss. Mom, Dad, I should have come over and talked to you guys first before I brought Riley over as my girlfriend. Shirley and Robert, I wasn’t aware that you two were coming tonight. I’m sorry this is how your first night here without Becca went.” I look around the room as everyone remains somber and silent. “But that’s the extent of my apologies. I will not apologize for falling in love again, nor will I apologize that it’s with Riley. The loss of Becca will never go away for me. I’ll carry that loss around for the rest of my life. However, how and when I move on has no bearing on the love I have for her. I hoped you all would understand that. I hoped that when I found someone that makes me smile and laugh again, that loves Harper like I do, that I would deserve to hold onto that person. Maybe I was wrong.”

My mom has tears running down her cheeks when I look up at her. She nods at me and smiles which I know is her telling me I said the right thing. I don't feel like there's much to be proud of here, but I'm proud that I stood up for myself and for Riley. That I know deep down what Becca would have wanted, and I truly believe this is it. I believe she had a part in pushing Riley my way.

“I just wanted to clear the air with everyone,” I finish.

“Thanks for saying all that, son. I know tonight didn’t go how everyone had hoped, but I support my son and if he is happy, then I’m happy for him. Riley is a wonderful young woman and deserves nothing but our respect.” Dad winks at me, making me chuckle at his lighthearted nature. Leave it to him to try to ease the tension in the room or make light of an otherwise tough situation.

“I’m sorry,” Peyton croaks out, with her head down. I can see the regret etched in her face.

When I look around, I can see that Shirley is still wounded by what she walked in on. Maybe it will take her some time to come to terms with, but I hope she can figure out how to. She is still Harper’s grandma and I want them to have a great relationship.

“Well, if you all will excuse me. I think I need some time to myself.”

I go to grab Harper from Greyson, but Mom stops me.

“Leave her here for the night. You can go home and relax. Maybe make sure Riley is okay.”

I nod my head and turn around, walking quickly to my car as I try pull out my cell phone. Jackson hasn’t called or texted me back, but I guess it’s only been like five minutes since he went after her. I click on his name and his phone rings several times before it goes to voicemail. I punch my steering wheel in frustration. I decide I can’t wait for him. Putting my car in reverse, I make my way toward Riley’s place. When I pull into the parking lot, I see Jackson walking back to his car. Riley must be inside by now.

“Hey, man,” he nods at me as I meet him by his car.

“How is she doing?” I ask.

“She’s pretty upset. I think maybe she needs some time to cool down. I tried to talk to her, but she wasn’t having it.”

“She doesn’t need time to cool down. She needs me. Thanks for taking her home.”

“No problem. I’ll call you tomorrow to check in.”

When I reach Riley’s front door, I knock on the door. After several minutes, she answers the door dressed in her cream cotton pajama shorts and white tank top. Her blonde hair is up in a bun on top of her head, and she isn’t wearing any makeup. I’m momentarily struck by her beauty, forgetting about the reason I came here in the first place. Her eyes are puffy and red from all the tears she must have shed, but she still looks beautiful. I step inside leaning in to hug her when she stops me with her hand on my chest.

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