Page 31 of Christmas Wish
“That’s good, but what does that have to do with me helping with the cleanup?” Savannah gathered the dishes and brought them over to the sink.
“I told you to sit the fuck down, woman.” He looked at her and met her glare. It was the first time since he’d walked into the kitchen that he looked directly at her. He grunted and turned away.
“Can I leave the table, Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie. Do you want to play Chutes and Ladders?”
“No. Maybe Qwirkle. Do you wanna play with us, Ryder? It’s really fun.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Another time. I gotta make some chow for my friends.”
“Why don’t you get the game out, and you and I can play it in your room?” Savannah said.
“Can we play here?”
“I think Ryder wants to be alone. We can set the board up on the floor in your room.”
Savannah’s soft and understanding voice grated on his nerves like sandpaper. “I don’t give a fuck if you want to play here,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Timmy set the game up in your room, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Ryder heard the chair scrape against the floor then the soft thud of retreating footsteps. He opened the dishwasher and put the breakfast plates in.
“It’s okay to be mad at me, but don’t take it out on Timmy. I also don’t appreciate you using bad language around him.”
Ryder froze—the utensils in his hand—as licks of fury blazed through him. Pushing down his ire, he turned around to face her. Savannah glared at him, her cheeks flushing.
“Why’re you so mad at me? Is it because of the kiss?”
Staring at her clenched fists, Ryder drew in a deep breath which didn’t abate his anger one bit but gave the illusion of calm. “No—I’ve forgotten all about it.” He felt some sort of perverse pleasure when she flinched.
“Then what’s your problem?”
“I don’t like being told what the fuck I can say in my own goddamn house.” He watched her swallow, watched that beautiful mouth strain as she tried to form the words. Ryder didn’t want to remember the feel of her in his arms or her soft lips on his. He scratched his unshaven face and huffed; he hated wanting her.
“Once your friends clear the area, Timmy and I will go to a hotel in town. I’m sorry we’ve been such an intrusion into your life,” she said.
Bitter regret rushed through him, and he was furious with himself, with Savannah,with everyone.He watched her walk away but stood rooted to the floor as pride mixed with anger stopped him from calling out to her. Long after she’d left, he stayed there staring until something inside him twisted like barbwire.
The loud roar of snow plows cut through the crushing silence, and Ryder realized that he hadn’t even started making the chili yet. As he chopped onions, garlic, and hot peppers, he realized that he was pissed at Savannah because she’d witnessed his PTSD episode the night before. Shame flooded through him at the thought of her seeing him at one of his most vulnerable moments. He hated the fact that he was helpless at times … that he was weak. Her damn cheeriness that morning, pretending that he wasn’t a fucking mess of a man the night before infuriated him. Anger was the fire; vulnerability was the fuel.
“Fuck it!” He threw the knife across the cutting board. “If she wants to go, that’s fine. I don’t need any woman feeling sorry for me.” Then Dana’s face popped into his head, and he staggered over to the kitchen table and crumpled onto the chair. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as memories flooded his mind. Ryder forced out painful thoughts and focused on the conversation he’d had with Dana while recovering at the hospital after the surgery.
“I’m not coming,” Dana said sternly.
“This is the second time you’ve canceled. I need to see you, baby. I fucking miss you.”
A too-long pause; uneasiness began to claw at him.
“What’s going on?” Ryder held his breath.
“I can’t handle this.”
“This?”
“The loss of your leg. Thinking of you like that turns my stomach. I can’t do it.”
Her words were arrows to his heart.
