“I’d like to stay, if that’s okay with you?”
I want him to go away. I never want to see him or his beautiful face again, so that I can stay in control.
I sigh defeatedly, and raise my hands in resignation.
Always strong, Chris. Well done.
“I’ll show you where the glasses and napkins are,” Evan tells him, a bit too happy – it’s starting to worry me.
Ryan follows him into the kitchen and helps him get the plates. He looks around, searching for something, and I immediately know what he wants. “We don’t have a table,” I say, embarrassed.
We actually do have one, but it’s buried under a pile of crap: documents, paperwork, anything else that we can’t find a home for, but that might be useful one day.
“We eat on the sofa, in front of the TV.”
Without commenting, he heads into the living room and helps Evan lay everything out on the coffee table, before trying to decide together what we should watch. Evan wants a horror film, but Ryan doesn’t seem too keen. He suggests an action film and Evan wrinkles his nose – he hates those Americanised shoot-outs, all inconsistent dialogue. They chat, they laugh, they tease each other; and a strange thought that I shouldn’t listen to settles in my mind. I sit down on the stool at the counter, watching them, and I hope…but I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t let myself get carried away with these things.
I shouldn’t expect anything, because Ryan O’Connor is a cold-hearted bastard, and he’s told me exactly what he thinks of me. Even though he’s here, in my house with my son, that doesn’t mean anything.
This isn’t his place, and I’m not his.
