Midnight Lily(57)

"Let's move aside," my grandmother said, walking several steps so we were farther from the open doorway. I followed her and so did Ryan. Ryan was staring at my grandmother.

"You were there," he said, repeating what he'd said inside. He turned to me. "She's your grandmother."

"Yes," I whispered. "My grandmother," I hesitated and then added, "Bianca Corsella." I had considered not offering her name, but there were a hundred people inside the ballroom who could tell him both our names. It hardly seemed worth withholding now. Ryan's eyes were moving over my face, his expression still shocked, confused.

"Where was your mother, Lily? I don't understand any of it. Please tell me."

My grandmother took my hand. "My daughter, Lily's mother, has been dead for a long time," my grandmother said calmly. "My granddaughter is ill, Ryan, just as you are. Everything you know of her is a lie. It was Lily living a lie." She looked around to make sure no one had heard her. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them. "Please, you have to understand that she can't see you again." Heat was rising up my chest to my neck, filling my head, making me feel like I might pass out. I didn't want him to know. It was irrational because I'd understood him, I'd understood that he was ill, but I just . . . didn't want him to know. Not about me. I felt humiliated and small and filled with despair.

Because now he'd realize what I had already come to understand: We could never be together. There could never be an us. It wasn't possible. I wasn't good for him, and truthfully, he probably wasn't good for me either. The woman inside the ballroom, the woman waiting for him, the beautiful woman in the black dress who he was going to take home tonight and make love to, she was better for him than I was. I knew nothing about her, but I knew that. And it filled me with pain and a sick, fierce jealousy. I pictured his naked body moving above hers and sucked in a miserable breath.

Ryan was staring at me, clearly trying to understand. "Lily?" he asked.

I closed my eyes momentarily. "It's true," I said, meeting his gaze. "My mother is dead. I've been in a hospital this year. I'm sick, Ryan. I've been . . . getting better. It's happened before, I . . ." My voice grew smaller. I didn't know what else to say.

"Okay," he said, "we can work through this, Lily—"

"There's nothing to work through," my grandmother said, latching her arm through mine.

Ryan glared at her, the first sign of anger coming into his expression. "Can Lily and I have a moment alone, please?" he asked, his jaw tight.

"Absolutely not. Lily, darling, we need to go. You look positively shaken anyway." She looked at Ryan. "Can you see how delicate she is? Can you see what this has done to her?"

"It's for the best," I said weakly. "What my grandmother said is true. Everything you know of me is all a lie. It was me living a lie. It's for the best that I walk away, Ryan."

"For the best?" he asked incredulously. "For the best?"

He looked back and forth between my grandmother and me, his eyes slightly wild again. "You can't just walk out of here!"

"We certainly can," my grandmother said, leading me away. "Lily's right. It's for the best. You'll come to realize that. Go back to your date, Ryan. It's good to see you doing well." Ryan stood there, shaking his head in disbelief as I allowed my grandmother to lead me away. I felt like my knees would buckle at any moment. Everything in me was screaming to run back to Ryan and beg him to take me out of there, take me with him, but I couldn't. More misery engulfed me.

Ryan, take me back to our woods where we can be together, where we can just be us, where you were free to love me and I was free to love you back. Take me there. Oh please, please take me there.

But, no. My grandmother was right to separate us, and the woman inside was waiting for him.

"Lily," Ryan repeated bleakly, but he didn't attempt to stop us again. He let us walk away. He let me go. Just as I must let him go. I dared to look out the window of the limo as it pulled away from the curb. Through the glass doors, I could see Ryan still standing in the lobby, watching as our car drove away. He grew smaller and smaller as the distance between us grew, all my hopes shrinking the farther we drove, until he finally disappeared completely. Again. Finally, unable to hold the anguish off for one minute longer, I put my face in my hands and sobbed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Ryan



The glass struck the wall and shattered, the sound breaking the silence of my apartment, jolting me free of the shock still holding me tightly in its grasp.

Lily.

Here in San Francisco.

She was real—she'd been right in front of me.

And she knew who I was, too. I'd been certain she'd figured out I wasn't Holden.

Do you know about me? Do you know?

Yes, love.

But I hadn't known if she knew who I really was. Hadn't known if she’d made the connection. Of course, I hadn't even known if she was real so I hadn't allowed myself to think too much about that aspect. Each time I did, it made me wonder if I was going crazy again—even considered whether it would cause me to go crazy again—and so I would shut it down. Christ. I didn't have to wonder anymore if she was real, and so I let myself think about it now. About how she'd stopped using my name, only calling me Boy Scout after she'd looked at the picture of Holden on the magazine cover. Yes, she'd definitely known. My God.