Page 133 of Face Off

The humor left Ryan’s face.

Two blank cards and pens waited on the pedestal. “Do we read them aloud?” he asked.

“You only need to exchange them.”

“That wasn’t in the rules.”

“It’s a romantic challenge.”

“I preferred the photographs.”

“You kissed me during the photographs.”

“I committed to the assignment.”

I picked up a card before the conversation could return us to the garden arch. Ryan took the other and walked to the opposite side of the pavilion.

One thing Ryan did that made people feel loved. There were too many answers. He noticed what people tried to hide. He remembered the small details they assumed no one heard. He showed up, protected, fed, defended, and loved his people with the same ferocity he once gave me.

I had accepted every piece of that devotion while searching for proof it would never be enough.

I wrote the simplest truth.

Ryan finished before I did and capped his pen. “You ready?” I asked.

“No.”

“Same.”

We met beside the pedestal and exchanged cards.

Ryan looked down at mine. You remember the things people assume nobody notices.

I unfolded his. She puts everyone else first.

My throat tightened.

Ryan continued staring at my answer lifting his hat and straightening it again. “Well, everyone but me I guess.” He says and looks anywhere but at me.

Every instinct trained into me wanted to explain. I could remind him how frightened I had been, tell him about Lance, or offer another apology he wasn’t ready to believe.

Instead, I stayed.

“You’re right,” I said.

Ryan lifted his eyes, his pain was quiet enough to hurt worse than anger.

“I made you fight for space I should’ve given you freely,” I continued. “Then I acted surprised when you stopped fighting.”

His fingers tightened around my card. “We’re keeping it light,” he reminded me.

“I know.”

“You don’t need to turn every challenge into an apology.”

“I’m not apologizing. I’m acknowledging what happened.”

“While trapped inside a maze.”