Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 23

ELLA

My lungs burn as I glide through the pool, enjoying a peaceful swim as the sun hangs low in the sky, begging to slip below the earth and sleep. Water splashes over my head, grabbing my attention. I pop to the surface, immediately wiping the water from my eyes.

And wouldn’t you know it. There’s Ry.

Standing on the side, he spreads his arms open wide. A bouquet of orange roses is in one hand and a large, greasy white paper bag is in the other.

I swim to the edge of the pool so we can talk. I don’t have the strength to scream while treading water. “What are you doing?”

“So… I figured it’s time to make a new anniversary.”

“Really. And what’s that? ‘ Breaking into Someone’s Back Yard ’ Day?”

“I was hoping more for like ‘ Please Don’t Hate Me’ Day.”

Is this really happening? Is he trying to play coy and cute with something so serious?

Suddenly Holt’s voice screams from the patio. “Agree to it! He brought me a cheesesteak too. I’m freakin’ starving.”

“Trying to buy off my family now?”

“Is it working?”

I snort. “Holt’s a football player. He’ll do anything for food.”

Ry holds out the bag, and Holt races over to grab it. “I’ll set the outside table,” Holt says in excitement.

Once Holt’s out of earshot, Ry crouches down next to me. He’s wearing cargo shorts and they gape open, showing me the material of his black boxer briefs. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t remember what day it was.” He sighs, glancing around the backyard. “In all honesty, I’ve spent twelve years trying to forget the words I wrote in that letter.”

“Why? Did our time together mean so little to you that you can’t even bring yourself to have empathy for what I went through.”

He smirks, driving me mad. “Don’t play the stupid card with me, Lulu. You’re the smartest person I know. And you know that our time together was the best part of my life. You were my life— the reason I wanted to live and breathe and survive.” He reaches down in front of me, swirling water around his finger. “Breaking up with you was a mistake, and I’ve been fighting that shame. I’m tired of fighting it; I realize I’m not strong enough to win that battle. I honestly thought leaving was the best thing for you. I know you’ll never believe that, but it’s honestly what I thought. I had nothing to offer you, nothing to give you. I didn’t want you to derail your future because of me. Somewhere along the way I realized I took the coward’s way out. I’m so damn sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. And I regret it every single second of every single day.”

“Are you guys coming or not?” Holt hollers. “If not, I’m gonna eat your fries.”

Ry chuckles. I can’t help but notice that he seems a little lighter. Like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He told me some of his truth. Plus, he apologized.

Maybe I would feel lighter if I told him some of my truth.

The full truth.

He reaches down with both hands, urging me out of the water. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. And I really don’t wanna fight your cousin for my French fries.”

I push away from the side, getting ready to swim to the steps, when Ry reaches out and grabs my hands. I stare at him. “What are you doing? You can’t pull me out of the water. I’m too heavy, you’ll fall in.”

“I remember hauling you into my arms on many occasions,” Ry says with a playful wink.

“I was a teenager then,” I say.

He wraps his hands around my wrists, so my wet hands don’t slip from his, and pulls me from the water, like I’m light as a feather. Granted, I give myself a pretty good jump to help out, but still. My soaking wet body presses into his. The temperature change immediately causes my nipples to pebble and chill bumps break out across my skin. Ry’s eyes scan my body, absorbing every small detail of my one-piece blue bathing suit. The high-cut leg showcases the contrasting colors in my skin tone. I’ve been laying out in a different swimsuit so my tan lines are lower. He traces his finger up my left thigh, charting the course of my surgery scar. At least the neck on this one isn’t low cut, so he can’t see how badly my breasts are heaving from his touch.

I stutter across my words. “T…Towel.”

Ry grabs the large beach towel from the lounge chair and wraps it around me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to warm me. His yellow T-shirt is soaked.

I nod at his chest. “I got you wet.”

He smiles softly. “I don’t mind.” Stooping, he picks up the bouquet of roses and grabs my hand, leading me over to the table, holding my hand like he used to. His calloused fingertips tickle my skin.

Holt stares at our intertwined fingers but doesn’t say anything. “I grabbed you a beer, Crutch.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

Ry reaches across and twists the lid on my bottle of water, opening it for me, while Holt puts the most glorious sandwich I’ve ever seen on my plate. We stuff our faces and small talk about nothing important. When finished, we clear the table, and Holt discreetly heads inside, leaving me and Ry on the patio alone.

Ry leans back in his chair, splaying his legs and studying me. I wipe my face with my fingertips. “What? Do I have cheese on me again?”

“No, you sucked that thing down like a vacuum cleaner. No time to get anything on your face.”

Laughing, I throw a leftover napkin at him.

“No, I was looking at your hair. Seriously, I can’t get over how wavy it is now, when it used to be so straight. It’s even curlier when it’s wet.”

I shrug, avoiding more of the conversation. “Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful.” I nod at the house where Holt took my roses inside with him.

He sighs, rubbing his fingers back and forth across his lips. “So… my grandma passed away two years after I came back home.”

I turn abruptly at the change of topic. “I know. I’m so very sorry.”

“How do you know?”

I cock my head. “Excuse me?”

“How did you find out? If Marcum didn’t talk to you about me and your family didn’t talk to you about me, how did you find out?”

I shrug again, biting my lip. “I guess I just heard it somewhere.”

He makes an interesting noise. “When I left for the Marines, I was worried about her. I couldn’t even call to check on her for a long time. I finally got to where I could call once a week, and I was surprised to find out that someone was sending fresh, orange roses to Grandma every single week. When I asked about it, the staff told me they made a promise to keep the donor anonymous. After a couple of months, the donor started sending fresh flowers for the dining area too.”

My heart thunders in my chest. I wipe my sweaty palms on the beach towel, underneath the table. “Huh. That’s nice.”

“It is, isn’t it? Weekly fresh flowers can’t be cheap. I mean, we’re talking about five-and-a-half years’ worth of flowers.”

Stars twinkle above us. Cicadas and tree frogs chirp around us. It’s nowhere near as loud as the homestead used to be, but it’s still a nice noise. I stand up, pulling the damp towel closer around my body. “Thanks so much for the food and the flowers. I should head inside. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, several web calls.”

He doesn’t let me take too many steps before he’s crowding me, invading my space. He reaches out, hooking a finger around mine as I hold my towel closed. “Please tell me you didn’t use that cheating asshat’s money to buy flowers for Grandma.”

There’s no point in denying it; he knows I sent the orange roses to her. Every week, without fail, I sent them. “Of course not. Despite what you did to me, I would never disrespect you that way. I worked for spending money in college. I did online tutoring for some of Holt’s friends and teammates— proofread their papers, helped with their homework, advised them on their college essays, and I did some transcribe work for some of the attorneys at Mr. Plott’s firm. That’s surprisingly good money.”

“Your parents actually let you work?”

I lift my eyebrows. “Remember, I wasn’t on the best of terms with them when I left town.”

He nods. His finger moves from my hand to my shoulder, and he grabs a small curl, twirling it around and around. “Why? Why would you do that? Take care of her like that?”

“You didn’t just leave me when you left. I didn’t want to punish your grandma for our issues. Orange roses helped her remember your grandpa. I didn’t want her to be alone. I didn’t want her to feel the way I felt.”

“Is that how you felt? Alone?”

I don’t answer. And I don’t like his question. I straighten my shoulders, and his hand falls to his side.

“But you weren’t alone. You had Hudson, right?” His voice is strangled and worried. Worried of what answer he may receive.

“I need to go inside.” This time he lets me walk away. He’s too scared to make me stay. Too scared of the truth. Just like me. Before walking through the door, I turn back to him. “And thank you for the apology. It was nice to hear. Our time together was the best part of my life too.”

I close the door before he sees the tears fall from my eyes.

I hate crying in front of people.

And I really hate crying over Ry. Again.