“I won’t repeat my father’s life, love,” Ryder snarls. “I couldn’t bear you hating me, everyone else? Fine, but not you. Not ever.” Then he leaves, letting me deal with it like I said I would. He’s not running away, he’s not hiding, he’s learning that sometimes it’s okay to let others help. “Ry?” she calls, as he storms upstairs, but he freezes, his hand on the bannister. “I love you with all the broken, blood-stained pieces of me,” he murmurs, and then he’s gone. She gasps, stumbling back, and looks at me in shock.
💔
