The flight to Oregon was delayed two hours, and I arrived later than expected, with only an hour to spare before my dad's rehearsal dinner party. I opted to attend dateless for more reasons than one. Maisie offered to accompany me as my guest, but I decided to go alone. Most people would want a little moral support if they were about to be subjected to watching their dad's double life come to fruition. Before I made a fool of myself at Royal Shots in front of Ryan, I had expected him to be the person to come with me.
Because no one else would even be able to comprehend or understand how tough it is for me to be present at my dad's wedding, Ryan is the only person who knows why my parents really split up because of my dad's ongoing affair with my mother's best friend Heidi - his now fiancé - who, when my mom was suffering from another depressive episode, took the opportunity to comfort my dad instead. Not to mention how Heidi has absorbed my dad's entire life into a new life with her daughters, leaving me and my mom on the back burner. Then, Heidi had a family picture taken with my dad and her two daughters and mailed me a Christmas card my sophomore year with the picture inside, wishing me a generic happy holiday. When I opened the card, Ryan was there to witness my dad in a Santa hat and Heidi and her daughters wearing elf hats, dressed festive and smiling. I nearly collapsed on the floor into tears. It was the first time I fully realized I was no longer an immediate part of his family. I was replaced with an evil soon-to-be stepmom and her daughters. Ryan was the only person to console me and tell me I didn't need them because I had him, my mom, and many others who cared about me. Yeah, now that I think about it, there may be a few reasons this whole wedding makes me sick to my stomach. And why having Ryan here would have made this weekend a hell of a lot easier.
But because I had a temporary moment of insanity and stupidly convinced myself I had feelings for Ryan, now I'm too embarrassed to even be in the same room as him. Never mind, fly with him to a different state to be my wedding date.
I confessed to my mom that I was flying to Oregon for the weekend. I also ended up telling her why. Her silence on the other end of the line broke my heart, but I also knew I wasn't the one responsible for fixing things this time. My dad betrayed her, left us, and started a new life without us. I wish I didn't feel obligated to support his nuptials, but I refuse to give Heidi the satisfaction of successfully erasing me from their life.
Usually, I would have stayed at my mom's home in Yachtas, but my dad decided to get married in Portland, Oregon, a three-hour drive from my hometown. The ceremony and reception occur at the Rosevalley River Place Hotel on the harbour.
I check into my hotel room, shower quickly, curl my hair and slip on a coral lace dress with a flirty, off-the-shoulder neckline. Heidi would be overly critical if I showed up in a casual sundress. She's always dressed to impress. Like a wannabe Real Housewife of Oregon. Except my dad is far from wealthy, and she's far from being as attractive as those women on reality television.
The rehearsal dinner party had already started when I left my hotel room. I walk down the hallway and into the elevator, riding to the first floor. When the elevator pings open into the lobby, my breath is pulled from my body in a sharp exhalation.
Ryan?
He is standing a few feet away, dark brown eyes full of hope and mischief as they meet mine. He's wearing a fitted white button-down shirt that clings to his chest and navy dress pants. His feet are in brown Oxford dress shoes, and a powdered blue flecked bowtie is around his neck. His sandy brown hair is styled perfectly.
Maisie sent him here, I'm sure of it.
"Ella..." he starts. When he meets my eyes again, I feel the weight of every ticking moment of silence. His jaw flexes as we stare at each other, and when he swallows, the dimple flickers on his cheek.
"Ryan," I say, my voice tight and breathless. "What are you doing here?"
He takes a step forward but looms cautiously. "Maisie may have mentioned your dad's wedding was this weekend."
"And somehow, that meant you should stalk me down in a different state like a weirdo."
"In case you forgot, a few months ago, you practically begged me to attend this wedding with you," he answers with a convincing smile. "And I don't see anyone else accompanying you as your plus one, so..."
"Yeah, well...that was before you turned into an epic douchebag."
He should look wounded from my truth-bomb, but he doesn't. His eyes study me, clearly charmed. His body is inching its way closer in my direction.
"Come on, Ella. Please don't be mad," he says. "Listen, I'm sorry about that night at Royal Shots. If I would have known – "
"I'm not mad," I shake my head, trying to clear it. "I'm just...I mean, I was...yes. But you don't have to explain yourself to me."
I can tell he wants to ask Why did you come there that night? But he doesn't. And I give him serious props for it. This is neither the time nor the place. Because although my decision to confess what I thought were real feelings for Ryan was impulsive, seeing him standing in front of me with mercy in his eyes immediately melts my cold heart for him.
"Can you forgive me?" he asks, dimple showing. "Or stop pretending you aren't thrilled I'm here."
I want to make him grovel at my feet for forgiveness; the trouble is, he's right. I am secretly thrilled he's here. All I want is to move past what happened between us and find our easy rhythm of friendship again. I know it's easier said than done when we've blurred the lines so bad they are no longer visible, but seeing him here and knowing he came all this way for me for what was looking like the worst weekend of my life gives me hope those lines may be able to be re-defined. I force myself to refrain from showing any emotion. Poker-facing it like a champ.
"Where are you staying for the weekend?" I ask hands pressed to my hips. "You're not sleeping in my hotel room if that's what you think. My room only has a single king-sized bed."
"Relax," he laughs. "I've got my room right across the hall."
I narrow my eyes at him. "How did you know what room I was in?"
"Asked the front desk, duh."
"That seems like a breach of privacy," I say matter-of-factly.
There's a slight smirk on his lips as he takes a step closer. A beat of silence passes between us as his eyes travel slowly down my body.
"For what it's worth, you look stunning."
My chest tightens, hearing him compliment me like that. Hearing his words, smooth as velvet, roll off his tongue so easily. I'm not ready for him to say things like that to me so soon.
His words hang in the air. The part where I'm supposed to say thank you, to say something polite about how handsome he looks too, and accept what he says with a smile. But both of us stand there.
"Oh, hi, Ella." A familiar shrill voice comes from my right, distracting us.
I turn to see my soon-to-be step-sister, Christina, and her younger sister, Becka, walking toward me and Ryan. I grew up with both of them since our mothers were once friends. Christina is two years older than me, with poker-straight blonde hair and blue eyes the size of dinner plates. Becka and I are the same age, although she looks older than us. Probably because of her secret smoking habit, she insists she doesn't have. She has a red bob of hair and warm brown eyes. Her boobs are ginormous, and her cheeks are covered in freckles. She looks nothing like her sister Christina but shares the same rotten personality - nosy, entitled, and ditsy.
"Christina, Becka." I greet them, tone pleasant.
"So glad you could make it for mom and dad," Christina says. My chest tightens with a familiar anxious pain. Even though they have their dad - a recovering alcoholic who has nothing to do with them - they've clung to mine like a leach. "We are all really happy you are here," she adds, making me feel on the outside of their happy little family again.
"And you brought Ryan, huh?" Becka says, raising a brow in his direction. She eyes him up and down, not hiding for a second; she finds him attractive. The last time Ryan came to Oregon with me, we had dinner with my dad, Heidi and her daughters. Becka couldn't keep her eyes or hands off him. It was enough to make me lose my appetite. "I thought Mom said you weren't bringing a guest," she adds.
"I uh..." I start waffling, but Christina cuts me off.
"Well, it's nice to see you again, Ryan," she says. "How nice of you to accompany Ella."
Her mocking tone doesn't go unnoticed. Heidi and her daughters are baffled that I've never been in a serious relationship and find my dating life humorous.
"Yeah, well...I would never miss something important to Ella." I hear Ryan say behind me. I turn around to face him; my heart pounds against my rib cage.
"Girls, come back to the party," a male voice shouts from the doorway. He's tall and lean with thick brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses. A shorter, spiky-haired blonde male stands beside him, sipping on a flute of champagne.
"Coming!" Christina shouts over her shoulder, then turns back to me. "Ella, Ryan, you must come and meet our boyfriends."
Before I can respond with a hard no, Christina pulls me by the elbow over to the two males standing in the doorway.
"This is my boyfriend, Matthew," Christina says, pointing to the taller one. "And this is Becka's boyfriend, Parker." She adds, nodding to the shorter one. "And this is Ella, dad's other daughter and her...um...this is Ryan."
Ryan leans forward and shakes their hands, all smiles. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," Matthew says, eyeing him skeptically. "Mr. Jones didn't mention Ella had a boyfriend."
I nervously laugh. "Um, because I don't."
I catch the slight flicker as Ryan's smile fades momentarily before brightening again forcefully. He runs a hand over his head. "Yup, just friends."
"Oh," Matthew says, curiously shifting his eyes between Ryan and me. "Do you go to college together?"
"Yeah, we both study at the University of San Francisco," Ryan answers.
"What are you taking?" Matthew asks Ryan.
"Pre-law. Political Science," Ryan says. He pauses like he's debating the following words perched on his tongue. He opens his mouth to say something more but then closes it again. He glances down at me, and the air around us feels charged, but that could be because I'm hyper-aware of when Ryan is about to confess something big. "Actually. I've just been accepted into Yale's law program."
My head flies up. He was accepted? For an instant, I freak out, knowing his future is a solid six-hour plane ride away for the next three years. My heart sinks a little.
"You were?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"When?"
"I just found out a few days ago," he says, refusing to meet my eyes.
I look at him with a mix of emotions. I am so happy for him if this is indeed what he wants. Knowing he was accepted to Yale is huge for him and his family. But the thought of losing him to the East Coast sits heavy on my chest like I wasn't expecting. Knowing Ryan's plan to attend Yale post-graduation isn't new information. I shouldn't be so shocked, but somehow, I am and feel this crazy turmoil of emotions. Realizing we only have a few months together before we graduate hits me hard. I've already wasted enough time without him because of my stupid pride and my stupid hormones, and that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Suddenly, the reality of our pending graduation causes a wave of nausea. I can't imagine how I'll feel when he's miles away from me at Yale.
"Congrats, bro. I'm heading into my second year of law at Yale." Matthew says, breaking through my thoughts. "Looks like we have two Yale boys in the house."
"Yeah, I guess so," Ryan says.
"Hey, Ryan, you golf?" Parker asks. "We need a fourth for tomorrow's early morning game with Mr. Jones. You may as well join us since you're here with Ella."
"That won't be necessary – "I pipe up.
"Of course, I'll come," Ryan cuts me off. "What time do we tee off?"
"Nine o'clock sharp," Matthew answers.
"Great."
"Perfect, Dad will be so happy," Christina said.
"You do realize he's not your dad, right?" I say, my tone a lot sharper than I expected it to be.
She rolls her eyes. "Oh. Ella. Don't be silly. Of course, he is."
My lips pinch together, and I ball my hands into fists. Ryan must sense my discomfort because he quickly pipes up before I do. "Hey, I have an idea; why don't we all head to the bar for a drink."
"Yes," Becka cheers. "Sounds good, let's go."
They turn away, leading the way into the dinner party and over to the makeshift bar in the far right corner. Ryan and I follow but stop when my dad's voice comes from my right.
"Ella darling, you made it."
I face him and his fiancé, Heidi, perched on his arm. Her dress is over the top, sparkling white with beaded shimmering detail. Her cleavage is practically touching her nose, and her blonde hair is twisted up into an updo.
"Hey, Dad. Hi Heidi. Congratulations," I say politely.
"Oh, Ella, always so ridged with pleasantries," Heidi laughs, glancing at my dad. "Just like her mother. So reserved."
My insides flare up. How dare she mention my mom at a time like this? I can feel Ryan pinching the skin on the back of my arm, warning me to keep my mouth shut and not say something rude in response.
"How was your flight?" my dad pipes up.
"Good," I grumble, daggers in Heidi's direction.
"And I see you brought Mr. Owen with you," he says, leaning forward to shake Ryan's hand. "Good to see you again."
"Likewise, Mr. Jones. And nice to see you too, Heidi," he nods politely in her direction.
Heidi frowns, "Ella, you didn't reply with a plus one. You should have told me you were bringing a friend."
"Yeah, sorry. It's my fault," Ryan pipes up. He drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me tight against his side. "I told Ella I couldn't make it, but then my plans changed at the last minute so I could catch a flight and come. I hope that's okay."
"It will have to be okay," Heidi says crossly. "You're here now. I'll need to let the wedding planner know."
"Hey, Ryan," Matthew's voice comes from behind us. "You didn't meet us at the bar." Their four-pack returns to our circle. "You look like a scotch kind of guy, so here you go," he says, passing Ryan a drink.
"Great. Thanks."
"Hey, Mr. Jones," Parker says to my dad. "Ryan is going to be our fourth tomorrow."
"Great," my dad says, smiling.
"And did you hear? Ryan was accepted at Yale," Matthew adds.
"I suppose congratulations are in order," my dad says, clinking his glass with Ryan's. "Your father must be proud. Are you still planning on taking over the firm with your brother?"
Ryan shrugs. "That's the plan."
"What about you, Ella?" Heidi asks, lips curled probingly. "Were you accepted for that drawing internship at Disney?"
The thing is, Heidi is very pretentious. If I'm not mistaken, she thinks my passion for art – graphic design, animation, painting and sketching – wastes my dad's financial resources. Seeing how she looked at me just now and the not-so-subtle comment about my drawing tells me her opinion hasn't changed since my freshman year. She still thinks my degree is a joke, and my dad should have never supported me financially through university. This makes the truth about my situation even harder to admit right now.
"Um, no," I finally say. "They chose someone else."
My dad raises an eyebrow. "Ella, why didn't you tell me?"
Heidi gives him an 'I told you so' look, which he reciprocates with a frown of disappointment.
"Maybe it's a sign to put your art aside and take something more employable finally." And even though those words came from my dad's mouth, I know Heidi directly influenced them. Just because her deadbeat ex-husband doesn't pay for his daughters to get an education doesn't mean my dad shouldn't be supportive of mine.
"Yeah, Ella. Art's a tough market," Christina pipes up.
"Yeah, unlike my degree in nursing," Becka brags. "I've already secured a job once I graduate. It wouldn't be a bad idea to take something more practical than drawing or whatever you do."
I bite the insides of my cheeks, trying to keep my cool.
"And Christina started working in her field as an accountant last month," Heidi brags, glancing in my direction.
How on earth did those two even afford to go to college? They dressed like the Hilton sisters circa 2000, and neither worked a part-time job during college.
"Jonesy, I mean Ella..." Ryan quickly corrects himself. "Is at the top of her class. She's quite an amazing artist. She paints these crazy, beautiful landscapes. She even has one on reserve for me – the Golden Gate Bridge – for when I get my shiny corner office as a lawyer."
"Of course, we all know she's talented," Heidi laughs this off. "It's quite the hobby, just not one with a foreseeable future."
"I'm sorry, Heidi, what did you study in college?" Ryan asks, straight-faced.
I nearly choke on my saliva. Oh boy.
Heidi looks at him, flustered. "Well...I never went to college."
"So you can't comment because you never earned a degree."
"Excuse me?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Mr. Jones said Ella should take something more employable. And then you said it's quite the hobby, just not one with a foreseeable future ...so I'm just wondering what you studied that made you the expert on what Ella needed to focus her energy on other than her artistic talents when selecting a career."
Our circle falls awkwardly silent. Matthew takes a long pull from his drink and glances around the party, looking for an easy escape. Christina and Becka's eyes are wide and focused in their mom's direction, anticipating her flip out because that usually is what she would do when someone challenges her. Parker and my dad remain silent, neither of them moving a muscle. I can't even refrain from holding back my grin. I turn my attention to Heidi, waiting for her to answer. She looks flippant, jaw clenched and chest heaving.
"Excuse me, I need to check in with the head chef to ensure dinner is on time," she says before storming away from our circle. My dad gives Ryan a scolding stare and puffs a tense breath before following her through the crowd.
"Perhaps we should go find our seats," Parker suggests, leading Christina, Becka, and Matthew away from Ryan and me and toward a table at the front of the room.
I glance up at Ryan, taking a slow pull from his drink, eyes looking down at me over the rim of his glass. It takes a few seconds for me to register the emotions swirling around in my stomach as I watch him and the slight smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth.
"I'm sorry, but I had to say something," he murmurs, his voice soft as a caress. "I don't care if she's the bride. Nobody puts you down and can expect to get away with it when I'm around."
My heart gallops when he says this. I'm scared. Not of what he said, but how he said it because of what has happened between us. I'm stumbling backward in my decision not to feel something more for Ryan. Hearing him stick up for me like that in front of Heidi lit a fire inside me. I'm worried it might never burn out.
"You're on her hit list now," I warn him.
He smiles. He lifts his hand and strokes a curl of my hair behind my ear. "I'll take my chances," he says, laying a finger against my cheek. "You do know she's wrong. Both her and your dad. You're going to be the best damn animation artist this world has ever seen."
I nod, "Thanks."
He finally smiles when he sees my grin. "Can you finally admit you're thrilled I'm here?"
I laugh. "Maybe just a little."