Page 25 of The Path to Loving Him
The first person to step out is the real estate agent of the empty house. I can’t remember his name . . . Doug maybe? I met him the other day while reviewing the lease agreement. There is an offer on the house, which means . . . maybe this will be my new landlord.
I slowly make my way down the stairs, keeping my eyes on the large black truck in the driveway, only for my stomach to nearly fall out of my ass when I see a very attractive and very familiar man step out of the driver’s side.
Ryland Rowley?
No.
It can’t be.
Please don’t let it be him.
I squint, giving myself a better look, as if that would help me distort his image and convince myself that I’m not seeing Ryland Rowley, but nope . . . still him.
This can’t be real, right?
Maybe . . . maybe he’s, I don’t know, looking at the house for another reason. Maybe he wants to check out the architecture and copy it for a house he’s building.
Maybe he’s the seller going in for one more snapshot memory.
I know it’s wishful thinking, but I hold on to that thought as I watch him help a little girl out of the back of his truck.
Umm . . . who is that?
She has to be at least four, maybe five, and she has the cutest pigtails that swish side to side when she walks and . . . hold on . . . is that a horse sticking out of her shirt?
“It’s so big,” the little girl says.
“Do you like the purple?” Ryland asks in a voice he definitely didn’t use when we were together that one night.
“I love it!” The little girl jumps in excitement.
“I knew you would.” Ryland glances up at Doug. “Want to show her the inside?”
“Would love to,” Doug says as he gestures to the garage. “As stated before—oh, hello.”
Fuck.
Caught like a deer in the headlights, I awkwardly stand there, looking at them, unsure what to do or say.
“How convenient. Ryland, this is Gabby, the tenant of the space above the garage.”
Ryland takes the little girl’s hand in his, then glances in my direction. I can barely feel the air flowing through my chest as I watch his eyes meet mine. For a moment, I feel that he won’t recognize me, that maybe he forgot about that night, but then his eyebrows rise in surprise.
Recognition is written all over his face.
Yup, he knows.
I take the rest of the steps down and wave briefly. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“Gabby, Ryland will be the property’s new owner, pending closure, but everything is looking very good so far.”
I can feel his eyes boring into me as questions race through his mind.
“Uncle Ry Ry, can I go stand under that tree? Chewy Charles wants to stare at the branches.”
Ryland takes in the large oak in the backyard, assesses the space, and then nods. “Don’t go past the tree.”
The little girl giddy-ups to the backyard, leaving me alone with Ryland and Doug.
