The Ultimatum

Chapter 10

I open the door, and there he is. He looks hot in his dress shirt and well fitting jeans. I try to pretend I'm not staring, only to catch him doing the same thing.

"Wow.. uh, you look amazing." Now I pretend that I don't know I'm blushing. It doesn't help.

"Thanks. You too." He holds out his arm for me to take. I take it and we head for the stairs. I let out a nervous breath that sounds very loud in my ears. It must be because he stops and turns to me at the head of the stairs.

"You're going to do amazing. You are amazing. I'll be there the whole time. You've got this." I take another long breath and breathe out slowly, nodding.

"Okay. Let's go."

There are so many people. So many. I know that Ryan probably only invited who he had to, his family, friends, advisors and chain of command, that kind of thing. But, still, there is a unique fear that makes my heart race to being in a room full of people and only knowing one of them. I don't know if Ryan senses this or not, but, as if he does, he slides his arm around my waist and leans in.

"This okay?" he whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back, "but where do we even start?"

I see a woman walking over in a pretty red dress dotted with little white flowers. She's beautiful and it strikes me suddenly why she looks so familiar - her and Ryan share the same color eyes.

"Hey, Mom!" he calls, his face lighting up in a smile as he sees her. His arm slides down from where it was wrapped around my waist to bring her into a hug as she approaches. "Mom, this is Olivia," he says, pulling away, "Olivia, meet my mom, Sheila." She smiles at me as she looks me up and down.

"Please, honey, call me Mom." Ryan begins beaming as she says this. I can't help but break into a smile myself.

"Ry, would you mind grabbing me something to drink?"

"Uh, sure Mom," he turns to me, looking nervous to leave me, "Do you want anything Olivia?"

"No, thank you, I'm good." I wave him off as I say this. "Go," I laugh, "I'll manage."

"Okay," he smiles, looking back and forth between us once more before heading off for the kitchen.

"You're doing fine, honey," Sheila says, making me blush.

"I - oh. Well, thank you."

"Ryan may have called me and asked me to wear a dress because you were nervous and he wanted to help you, but didn't know how. He mentioned you've been having some anxiety. I know it's nerve-wracking doing this kind of thing, but it's your destiny. You're going to do amazing - you are doing amazing. He really cares about you, you know? He'll help you through all of this. Not to sound narcassitic, cause it didn't just have to do with me, but me and his Dad raised a pretty good kid." At this, she smiles fondly. I feel warmth unfurl in my chest - Ryan did that just to make me feel better?

"Well, I hope you're right. About me being good, I mean, I don't doubt what you said about Ryan. It's just fate hasn't always been the kindest to me before."

"You will, I'm sure enough for the both of us." I smile at her warmly, I can see where Ryan gets his big heart, always wanting to help others.

"You mentioned Ryan's dad, is he here?"

"Oh, no, honey, he passed a few years back. It's probably the only reason Ryan's here now," she smiles sadly.

"I don't mean to pry, but how so?"

"You should talk to him about it. He was set to go to college when Richard passed, but the job was just too much for me on my own and still grieving and he didn't want to leave his father's legacy to a stranger, so he stayed here, took that all on himself. He's always been too much of a giver, can't say no." She clams up as she catches sight of him weaving his way back over. Ryan hands her the drink and slides his arm back around me, tucking me into his side. I pretend it's not taking up like half my brainpower wondering what it means and if I'm reading too far into it. We continue to chat with her and plenty of others throughout the night. I even catch Vincent among the crowd, who offers me an enthusiastic wave. I'm exhausted by the time people begin to finally file out, eventually leaving just us two.

"Ugh," I groan, laying out across the now-empty couch with a barely-touched glass of wine. Ryan looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "I promise I don't hate people. I hate how they make me so nervous I don't feel like myself. I'll do better next time."

"You did great. Really."

"Maybe. But once I know people, I'm fine. I even kind of rock at talking to people sometimes. Just not when I don't know anyone, then it makes my stomach hurt." I take a large sip of the wine I've been wanting to drink but afraid of making a fool of myself if I get drunk.

"Well," he starts, grabbing a bottle and glass from the bar setup nearby, and filling a glass himself, "to next time." we raise our glasses and toast to that before I drain the rest, holding it out for more. He obliges me.

"However, I also want to semi-forget this time." He barks out a laugh at that.

"You have a good sense of humor, you know. If you would let other people hear it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Did you really not like anyone?"

"No, I did! I swear! Your mom was great, and really, everyone was so sweet. It really is just my garbage brain chemistry. I'm sorry, I know it's not really what you signed up for, but I'm gonna get good with everyone, I know I will."

"Woah, woah," he says, taking a seat so close his warmth radiates onto me. "You signed up for a lot. I signed up for you." Oh my God, the way he's looking at me, I'm glad I didn't have another glass or I might just kiss him. He has got to stop doing that. "Everything about you. Don't beat yourself up for being yourself around me. That's what I signed up for and I can handle it, all of it." I gulp. Yep, I've got to get out of here before I do something stupid.

"Yep," I clear my throat quickly, "Right. Well, I should clean up." I get up and finish my glass, taking it and the others to the sink. We pick things up in tandem, in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, though. I can't lie, I feel frustrated and confused about what's going on between us. Some days I think that I'm just a burden and a bother and I should just leave him alone, and maybe it's just me, my anxiety and me projecting after what happened with Peter, because others I think that he feels like I do. But I just don't know, and I don't want to make it weird if we're going to live together and work together for.. the rest of our lives, I guess. That's too long for me to mess up our relationship, it's better if I just don't go there. So I don't.

Once the dishwasher is full, I wipe my hands and make my way back to my room.

"Good night, Ryan."

"Good night, Liv."