Bring Me Back(41)

“So, you lost your wife?” I question and then I’m the one cringing. “Sorry, that was rude of me to ask.”

“Nah—” he waves a hand dismissively “—it doesn’t bother me now. But I remember when it was fresh every little thing someone said could set me off.” He shrugs. “But yes, my wife died.”

I bite my lip. I want to ask how, but I don’t want to bring up the topic of my loss so I let it go. “Are you on your way to work?” I ask instead.

He nods and wipes his hands on a napkin. “Yeah, I forgot to eat breakfast. Don’t worry, I fed my son before I dropped him off at daycare,” he jokes.

“How old is your son?” I ask. That seems like a safe enough question.

“Two,” he answers. “And let me tell you, they don’t lie about the Terrible Twos. They’re the worst.” He takes another bite of his sandwich. “Not complaining, though. I love that kid.”

I laugh. “I didn’t doubt that.”

“So where are you headed?” he asks.

“Breakfast meeting with a client.” I pull out my muffin and break off a piece. It’s chocolate chip and warm inside so the chocolate is a gooey melted perfection.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I’m an event planner. I have my own business.”

His dark almond-shaped eyes widen in surprise. “That’s awesome. Good for you.”

“Thanks.” I fiddle with the paper that once surrounded my muffin. Oh God, I said thanks again. Kill me now. I take another bite of muffin before I can say thanks yet again.

“What got you into event planning?” Ryder asks, flicking a dark piece of hair from his eyes.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve always liked planning parties, so I decided to see if I could make a go of it. It helps that we live so close to D.C. Lots of business,” I answer.

Ryder clears his throat suddenly. “I wanted to clarify something. I know I said that in Group we don’t really talk about our loss, but it’s not forbidden. If you need to talk about it, you can. I just like group to be more … relaxed, you know? I want people to get to know each other and be comfortable. I think that comfort makes it easier to talk about it, but I knew I made it sound like it was forbidden or something so, I wanted to clear that up,” he rambles, his tanned cheeks turning slightly red. It’s kind of adorable.

I laugh. “I understand, and I think the way you run things is great. I’m not … I’m not ready to really talk about things.”

He nods. “I was like that, too, but once I opened up, I felt a lot better. And Blaire?” He waits for me to nod. “If you want to talk about it to me, or any of the other Group members individually, that’s fine too. You don’t have to share with the whole group.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I finish my muffin and dust the crumbs off the table.

Ryder glances down at his watch. “I have to go if I’m going to make it to school on time.”

“What grade do you teach?” I ask him.

“Fifth,” he says, finishing his sandwich and gathering up his trash. “I’m glad I saw you, Blaire. Have a nice day.” He smiles and picks up his coffee cup before heading out the door. I watch him leave, and it’s not until his car disappears that I realize I’m smiling.





It’s been three days since I saw Ryder, and in those three days I have not been able to stop thinking about how he made me smile. Sure, I’ve forced a few now and then since Ben died, but never has one come so readily to my lips in the last few weeks. My frozen cheeks damn near cracked from the pressure of it.

I park outside the school gym, and unlike last week, I don’t linger in the car. I head inside the building and find that I’m early. Only four other people are here, including Ryder.

He smiles and waves when I enter.

I lift my hand and wave back before grabbing a bottle of water from the table and a cupcake. These people like their sweets, but I guess when you’re grieving, you usually do.

I take a seat and drop my purse at my feet.

Ryder excuses himself from his conversation with Bill, another member of Group, and sits down beside me. He’s dressed casually today in a pair of dark wash jeans and white t-shirt and an open navy cardigan. His glasses are perched on his nose again, completing the nerd-chic look.

“Hey, Blaire.” He smiles. “How are you?”

I ponder over his words. Normally I would answer with an ambiguous fine, but the fact of the matter is I’m not fine. I see no point in lying to him or anyone else here for that matter. We wouldn’t be here if we were okay. We’re here to work on our demons.

“It’s been a rough few days,” I answer honestly.

His lips turn down in a frown. “I’m sorry to hear that, but thanks for being honest. We’ll talk more about it once everyone’s here.” He taps my knee lightly with his fingers before standing. He moves his attention on to the next member to arrive at Group. I admire the way Ryder goes out of his way to make us all feel comfortable.

When everyone’s arrived and grabbed a cupcake and drink, we begin.

Ryder takes his time addressing each and every person—asking them about children, parents, their dog, and job, basically anything not related to death.