My heart aches for her. I walk over, sit next to her, and wrap my arms around her. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now, but losing a parent, even one who never acknowledged you as theirs, hurts. “I am so sorry.” I whisper.
She hugs me tighter. “So am I,” her voice cracks. She pulls away and wipes at her nose. “You should go. Ryder needs you. My mom’s making us some tea downstairs.”
“I love you, Marcy.”
“I love you too. Mom told me about what Mr. Rothwell did to you. I should have been a better friend… a better sister.”
I shake my head and cup her cheek. “Don’t say that. You’ve been the best friend I've ever had, Marcy. None of this is your fault, and I’ll tell you everything when the time is right. Now isn't that time.”
We eventually join my aunt in the kitchen, and I leave them both shortly after. On the drive to Ryder’s parent’s house, my heart is heavy and my vision is blurry from tears. Did he kill his father because of me? How will either of us live with that?
A police car is parked in the driveway. The red and blue lights flash like a beacon in the dark guiding my way. I expected neighbors and ambulances, like that day my parents died. Instead, it is all eerily quiet. My aunt said it happened a few hours ago.
I walk up to the front door and a policeman holds up his hand to stop me from going any further. “Can I help you, Miss?”
“Yeah, I’m a friend of Ryder Rothwell. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”
He disappears inside the house and when the door opens again, Ryder appears. I slam into him, my arms wrapping around his torso, holding him tight. He smells of soap and all the things I’ve missed.
“I am so sorry,” I say, looking up at him.
“Come on in.”
I follow him inside the quiet house. Maria sits at the kitchen island when we enter, her shoulders sagging.
“Hi, honey,” she greets.
“Maria, you should get some rest. Mom is asleep and I’ll be up for a while. Besides, a cop is stationed outside for the night.”
She nods, “Just wake me if either of you need anything.” She gives Ryder’s hand a squeeze before leaving us.
We stand on opposite ends of the island silently for a long time. He doesn’t look at me, just at the granite top.
“How are you, really?”
His tired eyes meet mine. “Honestly, it all just feels like a nightmare, and I’m hoping I'll wake up from it anytime now.”
“What happened?” It’s been on the tip of my tongue from the moment I set eyes on him.
He shakes his head. “My mom…she did it to protect me, Ash.”
Relief floods over me that it wasn’t him, that he didn’t do it, and I feel like a piece of shit for even feeling that way. Poor Ruth.
“I started it, Ash. I threw the first punch. She shouldn’t have been the one to end it.”
I round the island separating us, unable to watch him break. I wrap my arms around his middle and press my head to his chest listening to the strong thrum of his heartbeat.Oh, baby, the world keeps spinning. Don’t fucking forget that, is what I want to say. But I know that he’s too broken to hear that right now.
Instead, I pull away, take him by the hand and lead him to the couch bringing him down with me. When we’re stretched out, he rests his head on my chest, clinging to me, and I let him.
“Don’t leave.” His voice is hoarse.
“Close your eyes, Ryder. I’ll be here in the morning,” I assure him, running my fingers through his hair. Tears burn my eyes from the sadness of his loss.
His breathing evens out, and I lie awake, staring at the ceiling until it’s bright outside.
* * *
Unable to curb the guilty thoughts and self-blame running rampant in my mind, I crawl out from under Ryder at seven in the morning. I start coffee and scratch around the pantry for ingredients. When I’m uneasy, I make music, but Felicity cooks or bakes. Without my guitar, I opt for her vise.