Page 128 of Come to Me

Jesus, I've heard some bit of that lecture at least a hundred times. I take a deep breath, trying to fight off a rush of memories. Ryan has always been a condescending asshole, but he was well-intentioned once upon a time.

"I'm only calling to talk."

"And what are you calling to talk about?" He asks. It's not impatient or harsh, but there's a certain immediacy to it. A demand that I explain myself right away.

"Us."

"Don't be vague. It irritates me." It's still flat, like he's expressing a distaste for those mushrooms. Not like he's mocking my apprehension.

I take a deep breath and hold it in my lungs for as long as I can. "I have to ask you something and I want you to be honest."

"Okay." He's still so calm and collected. So Ryan.

"Why did you ever want anything to do with me?"

A pause. He didn't expect that question.

"Back in high school or after?"

"Both." I press my nails into my thumb until I can't take the pinch.

There's a lot of painful history between Ryan and me, and I'm not too keen on reliving it.

"I wanted to help you."

"Why?"

"Because no one else would."

I bite my lip. It's not like I ever doubted Ryan started a friendship with me out of pity. I was pitiful back in high school. No prospects. No friends. Nothing but guys who wanted to get their hands up my shirt.

"And what if someone else had helped me?"

"I still would have helped you. I saw something in you. A potential."

"To be your trophy girlfriend?"

"Alyssa, if I wanted to make you my girlfriend when we were in high school, I would have done it."

"Why didn't you want to?"

"We were from two different worlds. My family wouldn't have approved." He almost sounds like he regrets it. "Maybe if you hadn't been-"

"Such a pathetic mess?"

"Don't do this to yourself," he says. It's almost kind. Like he really cares about my mental health.

"So you were waiting until I'd blossom into a good trophy wife?"

"Partially," he admits. "But I did care about you. I'd be an idiot not to realize you're beautiful and a bigger idiot not to realize you'd make an excellent wife."

"What kind of 16-year-old thinks about his future wife?"

"I told you. I wanted to help you. I didn't think about marrying you until we were both in L.A. It only seemed natural then. You needed my help, and I needed someone too."

"Someone to show off."

"So what? You needed someone to take care of you. I needed someone to show off. It was a mutually beneficial relationship."