of it, but that didn't work. I knew in my heart that was false. I would have contacted him even if he was the exact same Ryan he was when I left.
Turns out, he wasn't that same Ryan. I dug a little online, and found that the rumors Claire heard about him were mostly true. He wrote and published a historical novel as his doctoral thesis. It was, exciting, heartfelt, and touching with a hint of romance . (At least that's what the review in USA Today said.) It became an instant hit, and there was already talk of it becoming a television mini-series.
The article I read also confirmed that he had taken a job at Tulane, which he would start this fall. There was a picture of him, and it made my heart yearn. He was different but somehow the same. He was thicker and his posture seemed more confident, but he was still Ryan—I could see it in his eyes even though it was just a picture.
His success was so recent that there wasn't much about him online aside from a few articles with his picture and his author biography, which was brief and vague. I didn't dare search him out on social media. I knew there was a Britney involved, and the last thing I wanted to do was accidently see them in action as a couple.
In the back of my mind, I knew God would lead me to the right person, but in the front of my mind, or to the right, or all the other places in my mind, I wanted that person to be Ryan. I found it nearly impossible to forgive myself for hurting him two years before. I gave more of myself than I should have to someone who didn't even deserve me, and now I was stuck regretting it.
"I thought you were going to New Orleans," my sister, Alex, said when she came in the door at Mom's house one afternoon.
"I was, but I think I'm just gonna chill here," I said as I stooped to pick up my precious nephew who she had just set on his feet. I groaned as I lifted him onto my hip and smiled at him with wide eyes. "You're getting so big!" I said, tickling him a little and causing him to giggle.
"It's Saturday night," Alex said.
I smiled and nodded at her to let her know I was totally aware of what day it was.
"So, you should go hang out with Claire like you said you were gonna do. Mom said you've been out here all week."
"Two weeks!" my mom called from the living room. Lane heard her and started squirming in my arms, so I kissed his cheek and let him down.
"You need to make her get out of the house," Alex said.
"She wasn't feeling well," my mom said from the other side of the room as she stooped to pick up my nephew.
"There's something more to that break-up, and you know it," Alex said under her breath as she dug in the fridge.
I walked over there to stand next to her. We had seen each other several times since I came back home, and I always avoided the topic. My mom knew about what Marcus did, but I hadn't had the opportunity to tell Alex.
"He stole a bunch of money from me. I don't even know how much, but he was stealing from me."
My sister gasped quietly and cut her eyes toward our mom.
"She knows about it," I said.
"That means dad does, too, "Alex said.
I smiled sadly. "I hope not. I really didn't even want to tell you and Mom. I definitely don't want Cam and Cole to find out about it. It's embarrassing, and I'd rather just forget about it."
I was embarrassed by the circumstances of my break up with Marcus, but the primary cause of my recent inability to leave the house stemmed more from my regrets in regards to Ryan. I was sort of glad to have the Marcus story to fall back on with my mom and sister so that I didn't have to tell them the extent of my feelings for Ryan or that it was because of him that I hadn't felt like leaving the house for the past two weeks.
"Are you pressing charges?" Alex whispered from next to me in the kitchen. She looked at me, and I shook my head.
"No."
We were both quiet for several seconds, and I assumed she was thinking about what I had just told her about Marcus.
"Well, Mom said you were
Turns out, he wasn't that same Ryan. I dug a little online, and found that the rumors Claire heard about him were mostly true. He wrote and published a historical novel as his doctoral thesis. It was, exciting, heartfelt, and touching with a hint of romance . (At least that's what the review in USA Today said.) It became an instant hit, and there was already talk of it becoming a television mini-series.
The article I read also confirmed that he had taken a job at Tulane, which he would start this fall. There was a picture of him, and it made my heart yearn. He was different but somehow the same. He was thicker and his posture seemed more confident, but he was still Ryan—I could see it in his eyes even though it was just a picture.
His success was so recent that there wasn't much about him online aside from a few articles with his picture and his author biography, which was brief and vague. I didn't dare search him out on social media. I knew there was a Britney involved, and the last thing I wanted to do was accidently see them in action as a couple.
In the back of my mind, I knew God would lead me to the right person, but in the front of my mind, or to the right, or all the other places in my mind, I wanted that person to be Ryan. I found it nearly impossible to forgive myself for hurting him two years before. I gave more of myself than I should have to someone who didn't even deserve me, and now I was stuck regretting it.
"I thought you were going to New Orleans," my sister, Alex, said when she came in the door at Mom's house one afternoon.
"I was, but I think I'm just gonna chill here," I said as I stooped to pick up my precious nephew who she had just set on his feet. I groaned as I lifted him onto my hip and smiled at him with wide eyes. "You're getting so big!" I said, tickling him a little and causing him to giggle.
"It's Saturday night," Alex said.
I smiled and nodded at her to let her know I was totally aware of what day it was.
"So, you should go hang out with Claire like you said you were gonna do. Mom said you've been out here all week."
"Two weeks!" my mom called from the living room. Lane heard her and started squirming in my arms, so I kissed his cheek and let him down.
"You need to make her get out of the house," Alex said.
"She wasn't feeling well," my mom said from the other side of the room as she stooped to pick up my nephew.
"There's something more to that break-up, and you know it," Alex said under her breath as she dug in the fridge.
I walked over there to stand next to her. We had seen each other several times since I came back home, and I always avoided the topic. My mom knew about what Marcus did, but I hadn't had the opportunity to tell Alex.
"He stole a bunch of money from me. I don't even know how much, but he was stealing from me."
My sister gasped quietly and cut her eyes toward our mom.
"She knows about it," I said.
"That means dad does, too, "Alex said.
I smiled sadly. "I hope not. I really didn't even want to tell you and Mom. I definitely don't want Cam and Cole to find out about it. It's embarrassing, and I'd rather just forget about it."
I was embarrassed by the circumstances of my break up with Marcus, but the primary cause of my recent inability to leave the house stemmed more from my regrets in regards to Ryan. I was sort of glad to have the Marcus story to fall back on with my mom and sister so that I didn't have to tell them the extent of my feelings for Ryan or that it was because of him that I hadn't felt like leaving the house for the past two weeks.
"Are you pressing charges?" Alex whispered from next to me in the kitchen. She looked at me, and I shook my head.
"No."
We were both quiet for several seconds, and I assumed she was thinking about what I had just told her about Marcus.
"Well, Mom said you were
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