Chapter 103 103
RYAN
I didn’t realize when I sat down.
One second I was standing at the door, the next I was on the floor, my back against the wall, my hands hanging loosely by my sides.
Everything around me felt distant, like I was there but not really there.
“She’s gone.”
The words came out quietly, like they didn’t belong to me.
Morgan stood a few feet away, watching me carefully. “Ryan…” she started, but her voice faded into the background.
“She’s gone,” I repeated, this time slower, like I was trying to understand it myself.
Morgan didn’t say anything after that.
I heard her moving around, heard her voice on the phone, low and urgent, but I didn’t pay attention to what she was saying. None of it felt important enough.
The only thing that mattered was the empty space in front of me.
Footsteps came sometime later.
Fast. Familiar.
“Ryan?” Aaron’s voice broke through, closer this time.
I didn’t respond.
“Hey,” he said again, crouching in front of me. “Look at me.”
I lifted my eyes slowly, meeting his.
“She’s gone,” I told him.
He exhaled, nodding slightly. “I know,” he said.
I shook my head faintly. “No,” I said. “You don’t.”
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out anyway. “She took my kid.”
Aaron’s expression shifted, something heavier settling in his eyes. “We’re going to find her,” he said firmly.
A quiet, humorless chuckle left me.
“She’s gone,” I repeated. “She’s really gone.”
The words broke something open.
I didn’t feel it at first, didn’t realize what was happening until my vision blurred slightly. Then the silence around me filled with something heavier.
Tears.
I looked down, my jaw tightening as I tried to stop it. It didn’t work.
Aaron didn’t say anything.
He just stayed there.
After a moment, he reached out, gripping my arm gently. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get up.”
I didn’t move at first.
Then slowly, like my body didn’t fully belong to me, I let him pull me to my feet. My legs felt heavy and unsteady, but I didn’t resist.
He guided me outside, one hand still on my arm.
The air hit my face, cool and sharp, but it didn’t do anything to clear my head.
Everything still felt… numb.
We got into the car without speaking.
I leaned back against the seat, my head resting against the window as the engine started. The movement of the car barely registered.
For a while, there was nothing.
Just silence.
Then Aaron’s voice came, low and careful. “Where to?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
My eyes stayed fixed ahead, unfocused.
“Ryan,” he called softly.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “Take me to my parents,” I said.
He didn’t question it.
The drive felt longer than it should have.
Or maybe shorter.
I couldn’t tell.
Time didn’t feel normal anymore.
I didn’t cry loudly.
There were no sounds, no shaking, no gasping breaths.
Just tears.
Silent tears.
Aaron didn’t try to stop it.
Didn’t try to talk me out of it.
He just drove.
When the car finally slowed to a stop, I blinked slowly, my eyes adjusting. The house stood in front of me, exactly the same as always.
Nothing had changed.
Except everything had.
I opened the door and stepped out before Aaron could say anything. My movements were slower now, but there was something else underneath it.
I walked into the house without knocking.
“Ryan!” my mom’s voice came immediately, sharp with relief as she rushed toward me.
She wrapped her arms around me before I could react, holding me tightly. “I’ve missed you,” she said quickly. “Why did you leave like that? You had everyone worried.”
I didn’t move.
“I’ve handled everything,” she continued, pulling back slightly to look at me. “I even fired Miranda on your behalf.”
That made me laugh.
A quiet, empty sound.
I lifted my eyes to hers slowly.
“She’s gone,” I said.
Her smile faltered slightly. “What?”
“She’s gone,” I repeated, my voice flat.
Confusion crossed her face as she glanced briefly at Aaron behind me. “Gone?” she asked. “Who’s gone?”
I held her gaze.
“You chased her away, Mom.”
The words landed between us, heavy and unmovable.
Her expression shifted, disbelief flickering across her face. “What are you talking about?” she asked quickly.
My dad stepped into the room then, his brows furrowed. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking between us.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face.
“I warned you,” I said, my voice quieter now.
My mom stilled slightly.
“I told you,” I continued, looking directly at her, “if Emily ever leaves because of you… I’m done.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
“What do you mean?” she asked finally, her voice unsteady now.
“I mean,” I said slowly, “you don’t get to contact me anymore.”
Silence.
My dad stepped forward. “Ryan, you don’t mean that,” he said firmly.
I didn’t look at him.
“I do,” I said.
My mom shook her head quickly, panic creeping into her expression. “No, Ryan, listen to me—”
“I don’t want to,” I cut in.
My voice didn’t rise.
It didn’t need to.
“I don’t know when or how you started hating her this much,” I continued, my chest tightening slightly, “but I don’t care anymore.”
“Ryan—” she tried again.
“She’s gone,” I said, my voice breaking just slightly this time. “My Emily is gone.”
That was the first time it sounded real.
The first time it felt real.
My mom’s face crumpled almost instantly, tears filling her eyes. “I was trying to protect you,” she said, her voice shaking.
“From what?” I asked quietly.
She didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
I looked at her for a long second, something in my chest shifting painfully. Then I turned away.
I couldn’t look at her anymore.
If I did, I might stay.
And I couldn’t stay.
“Aaron,” I said, my voice low. “Take me home.”
There was a brief pause before he nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly.
I walked toward the door without looking back.
My mom called my name again, her voice breaking this time, but I didn’t stop. My dad didn’t try to stop me either.
No one did.
We stepped outside, the door closing behind us with a soft click.
The night air felt colder now.
Heavier.
I got into the car without saying anything, my movements automatic. Aaron followed, starting the engine a second later.
We drove off in silence.
The city lights blurred past the window as I stared ahead, my reflection faint against the glass. My eyes looked different.
Empty.
Aaron glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. “You sure you want to go home?” he asked.
The question sat there.
For a long second, I didn’t answer.
Home.
I let the word settle in my mind, turning it over slowly.
Then I realized something.
I didn’t know where that was anymore.
My grip tightened slightly against my leg as I looked out the window again.
“Just drive,” I said quietly.
Aaron didn’t ask anything else.
And as the car moved forward, I sat there in silence, the weight of everything pressing down slowly, steadily, until there was nothing left to hold onto.
Except the one thing I had lost.