Page 93 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
Ryder lifts a placating hand. “Okay, I get it. Your life has been ripped apart and put back together in the worst possible way. But if Miranda doesn’t care about you, why do you care about her?”
I take another big mouthful and speak through it. “I don’t.”
“You’re clearly mad right now. She’s made you mad. You care enough to be mad.”
I swallow the chunk of food as the tears seep out of my eyes. “Because she’s the only family I have left. She should care.”
Ryder nods. “She should, but she doesn’t. You said it yourself. She and your mom hadn’t spoken in years, and she didn’t show at the funeral. She doesn’t care about you. She doesn’t check in with you. Just delete her from your mind.”
With frustration at boiling point, I toss the sandwich at him. Yellow yolk and bacon grease smears his green sweater.
He stares at the mess and then his head rolls up, his dark eyes full of questions. “Umm?”
“She’s my only living relative,” I utter as my nerves fry. “She should care.”
Ryder lifts my sandwich from his lap and sets it on the table. “All I’m saying is...”
“Save it,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’ll drive yourself crazy waiting for that woman to care about anyone besides herself.”
I roll my eyes. “She cares about you.”
“She cares about me being successful so that she’ll look successful. She’s using me, and I’ve accepted that. So I use her back.”
“That’s horrible.”
“That’s life. She doesn’t care about you, so stop caring about her.”
“No!” I slam a fist on the table. “I want a family. She’s my family.”
“But she’s incapable of loving you.”
The tears finally roll down my cheeks. “But I want her to.”
His lips press into a line, and there’s a gentleness to his expression. “She’s not going to replace your parents. She’s not a caregiver.”
“I don’t want her to replace them.” I hiccup a sob. “I just want her to want me.”
“She wasn’t in your life for a reason.”
“A reason you won’t tell me about.” I swipe my hands across my wet cheeks. “My mother is gone! I’ll never get answers on what’s left of my messy life.”
“Your mom would want…”
“She’s dead!” I snap. “She’s gone because I’m horrible. I’m the one who faked being sick and made them waste time.”
“Ally, it’s not your—“
“It is my fault! They’re dead because of me.”
Ryder pushes his chair back and steps around to my side of the table. Before I can recoil and ask what he’s doing, his arms are around me.
“But I…”
He squeezes me in his embrace, halting any further words from escaping me. I suck in a breath, soothed by his closeness. I’m about to cinch my arms around him when realization dawns on me.
“Oh, no.”
