Finding Forever

Chapter 19

We survive the rehearsal party. Five courses, three speeches, and a whole lot of champagne later, I am so ready for this party to end.

"Want to get out of here?" Ryan leans over and whispers against my ear.

I glance at his throat, lips curling into a mischievous smile.

Sometimes, I swear he can read my mind. "Um, yeah. I've been planning our escape since the first course was served."

Without hesitation, Ryan tosses his napkin onto the table and rises to his feet, stretching his hand to me. I glance up at him and his lick-able dimples, playful glimmer in his dark eyes and smile at how the vein on his forehead pulses when he's excited about something. I place my hand in his, and we each grab another glass of champagne from a nearby tray as Ryan leads us out the door.

I'm almost positive no one will notice I'm no longer at the party. In truth, I'm pretty sure there isn't a body in the room who would even care about my absence, including my dad. And who could blame them really? I am an outsider to their picture-perfect life of holiday family portraits and backyard barbeques.

The air is cool, and the sky is dark. The street lights cast a smoky glow along the harobur, and the lake glistens under the moonlit sky. We walk down the sidewalk, sipping our stolen flutes of champagne and chatting about how ridiculous Heidi and her daughters are and how my dad made a huge mistake leaving my mom. My mom may have her mental health issues, but she is also the sweetest and most selfless person on the planet. She loved him to no end and still does. It is just such a shame he was too thoughtless to love her back the way she deserved.

"Tell me how Rosie is doing," I say as we step onto the sidewalk heading toward downtown Portland.

Beside me, he freezes for a beat before exhaling a long, slow breath. "She survived the rehabilitation center, so at least she is still alive."

"Is she back at home?" I ask.

"Yeah," he pauses, thoughtfully. I look up at his face, but it's hard to make out his features in the dark. "She's stabilized, which is good. I've been calling her every day since she was released. I'm planning on going home for a few days next weekend to visit her."

"Oh," I say. "Because if you needed moral support, you know I'd drive to Sacramento."

"I know," he says, smiling. "And I may take you up on that offer since we never did take that road trip to visit her when she was first placed there."

We walk a few more blocks in comfortable silence until we stumble upon my favourite ice cream stand in Portland. I stop in my tracks and smile up at him.

"We have to get an ice cream here," I tell him, nodding over to the quaint little shop. "It's the creamiest, most delicious ice cream you will ever have. Oh, and you have to get a dip too. My favourite is the birthday cake flavour."

"Alright," Ryan smiles. "Twist my rubber arm."

We walked into the shop, and I ordered for both of us. When I pull out my card to pay, Ryan steps in front of me and hands the cashier a crisp bill instead. I put up a fight, insisting I pay this time, but he refuses, and before I can protest any further, the cashier quickly hands him his change, and Ryan simply passes me an ice cream cone with a smile.

We strolled out of the shop and walked across the street, eating our ice cream.

"So... you're officially Yale-bound," I finally say.

He nods. "Yup."

"And this is really what you want?"

"No...well...yeah," he says, laughing a little dryly. "I mean...what other option do I have?"