Page 75 of Pretty Broken Doll

“Of course I do,” I grumble irritably, feeling guilty.

For a moment, I’m tempted to tell him everything—to admit how alone I sometimes feel, how every decision I make seems like a trap, how I’m terrified of Ronin finding out the truth, and the confusion surrounding Shilo.

But I can’t. I can’t let Declan see how much I struggle to keep it all together, he’s done too much for me already. So I force a smile, hoping it looks convincing.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m good. Really. I’ve got this.”

Declan’s shoulders slump, and I hate the disappointment in his eyes. It feels like sophomore year of high school again, when we were strangers. “Ryann…if this is about what happened to Mom—“

“No,” I cut him off, trying to keep my tone light despite the agony just mentioning her brings. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

He studies me for a long moment with those green eyes like hers, and I know he’s trying to see through me. “You know I don’t blame you anymore, right? I haven’t for a long time.”

My first instinct is to flinch, but I tamp it down. “Yeah. I know.”

It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t blame me. I still do. That will never change.

“Alright.”

We both gaze at one another in silence, him trying to get me to crack as I hold onto my resolve with all my might.

Finally, he breaks the stare-down, dropping his head with a defeated sigh. “If you change your mind or need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

I nod, grateful for the offer, even if I can’t take it. “Thanks, Dec. I mean it.”

He gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Take care of yourself, okay? This company, Dad...there are more important things out there.”

“Yeah,” I say quietly as he heads for the elevator. “You too.”

The doors slide shut, and I’m left standing in the kitchen, silence pressing around me. It’s fucking lonely. Having Shilo in my bed last week felt too good, and now that’s all I can think about. I used to revel in solitude, but now I want to get in my car and drive back to his parents house to curl up beside him. This whole business with Olivia has probably made sure that I’ll never fall asleep beside him again, and I feel so fucking raw.

This is for the best. He deserves someone his own age who can proudly claim him, not some bitter, emotionally stunted man sixteen years his senior. I’m the one who told him to keep feelings out of our arrangement.

But as I stand in the cold, suffocating silence of my empty condo, a gnawing thought takes root.

Maybe separating feelings from Shilo was never an option to begin with.

Shilo

Christmas comes and goes like it usually does.

After waking up with the first—and definitely last—hangover of my life, Mom cooks me a greasy breakfast that I actually keep down while Dad blasts eighties holiday music. We exchange gifts once Paige gets home from spending the night with Declan, watch It’s A Wonderful Life with steaming mugs of apple cider, and then pile into the car for a drive down Snowflake Lane to look at the lights.

All very typical for a Reed family Christmas.

What surprises me, though, is the text I get from Ryann because I’d been expecting the cold shoulder from him like usual.

Boss:

Merry Christmas. How are you feeling this morning?

Me:

Hi, Merry Christmas. I’m alright. Slightly nauseous and my head hurts.

Boss:

Champagne will do that. Take some Tylenol and drink lots of fluids.