Before I’ve figured out how to square all this, Ryan comes outside. He’s as handsome as ever in his navy bomber jacket and jeans. His eyes twinkle, as if to say, You’re not still mad, are you? “Feeling better?” he says, and opens his arms to me. I step into his embrace, feel his arms close comfortingly around me. For a long time, we say nothing. Tears sting my eyes as I pull back to look at him. “Why do you love me, Ryan?” He drops his arms, rubs his face. “Lanie, what are you doing?” “I’m being honest. It’s an honest question.”
