Chapter 3

Ryan: [Emily, Claire got back and her luggage still hasn't all arrived. Didn't you buy a few new spring outfits the other day that still have the tags on them? Let her borrow them for now.

[All the stores are closed, and she has a class reunion tomorrow. She can't show up dressed too casually.]

The heaviness I'd forced down in my chest surged right back up, so hard it made my throat tighten.

The clothes I hadn't even worn yet, he wanted me to hand over so his true love could dress up for her reunion?

Why the hell should I?

I didn't reply. I shut off my phone.

Out of sight, out of mind.

The next day was Christmas Day. At ten o'clock, the doorbell rang.

Michael ran to answer it. Standing outside were Ryan and Claire, carrying armfuls of holiday gift boxes.

Everyone except me went up to greet them warmly.

Ryan's parents had died young. Before passing, one of my dad's old army buddies had asked him to look after Ryan, so he'd practically grown up in our house. My parents had always treated him like their own son.

The second he stepped inside, his eyes found me.

My mom took Claire's hand and smiled from ear to ear. "So you're Claire? You've gotten even prettier. Standing next to Ryan, you two really do look perfect together."

Claire lowered her head shyly. "You're too kind, Mrs. White. Honestly, you seem even more elegant than before."

"Where's Emily? Still sleeping in? Get out here already, Ryan and Claire are here," my dad shouted toward my room.

I changed clothes, went out, picked up the coffeepot, and poured each of them a cup of coffee. "Merry Christmas, Ryan. Claire." My tone was polite, my posture distant.

Ryan's fingers paused slightly as he took the teacup, and the look he gave me turned even more complicated.

When I went to the bathroom, my phone buzzed.

It was Ryan. [What exactly is your problem?]

I looked at the message, smiled to myself, swiped left, and deleted it.

At lunch, there was a little hiccup with the seating.

I sat down in my usual seat without thinking, but Ryan silently pulled out the chair next to mine and sat down.

That was Michael's seat.

Michael's eyes went wide. "Hey, Ryan, your seat's over there." He pointed at the empty chair next to Claire.

"It's fine. Doesn't matter where I sit," Ryan said without moving.

"How is that the same?" Michael refused to let it go and physically hauled him up. "What are you doing sitting next to my sister? Move. Go sit over there."

After a brief tug-of-war, Ryan ended up sitting right across from me.

The moment he sat down, I could feel his gaze settle on my face like something solid.

I lowered my eyes and focused on the bread in my plate.

Halfway through the meal, his phone rang. He stood up and went out to the balcony to take the call.

The little plate in front of him sat empty. In the past, I always used moments like this to put some of his favorite food into it so it'd be the right temperature when he got back.

This time, I glanced at it, then picked up a piece of spicy chicken and dropped it into my own plate.

He came back soon enough, sat down, and immediately looked at his plate.

Empty.

He lifted his eyes and looked at me.

Michael caught it and quickly smoothed things over. "Come on, it's family dinner. No need to be polite. If you want something, spin the tray yourself."

At that moment, my mom looked at Ryan, then at me, and suddenly laughed. "Emily, look at Ryan. He's already bringing a girlfriend home for Christmas. When are you bringing a boyfriend home for your mom to meet?"

Ryan's fingers tightened around his chopsticks, and his lips parted slightly.

I didn't give him the chance to speak.

"Sure," I looked up and smiled at my mom. "Mom, Dad, Mike, if you know any decent guys, keep an eye out for me. My standards aren't high. He has to be a good person and reliable."

The second those words left my mouth, the table fell silent.

In the past, anytime this topic came up, I'd either blush and dodge it or firmly say, "It's too early." Everyone understood the unspoken part. I was waiting for Ryan.

Michael was the first to react. He smacked the table excitedly. "For real? My sister finally gets it. Wait. I've got a whole contact list full of quality guys. I'll set you up after lunch."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Mike," I smiled and accepted, while in the corner of my eye, Ryan's face had already gone dark enough to storm.

"Mrs. White," Ryan suddenly said, his voice a little tight, "please don't misunderstand. Claire is my friend, not my girlfriend."

My mom froze.

The smile on Claire's face stiffened instantly, and her eyes turned red almost at once.