Before you can find your Happily Ever After, you must first discover yourself.
Prologue: Three Years Ago
I held my breath, not believing what I heard. Ryan Parker pounded on the door so hard that I imagined the hinges popping from their frame. I hid in my small bedroom, covers pulled over my head, already working on my second box of Kleenex. He could pound all night and would never get in as my very own big bad wolf protected my doorway.
“Ryan, she doesn’t want to see you.” The sound of my dad’s voice caused me to peek out from under the covers. I avoided the mirror; I didn’t need to gaze into it to know my mascara had run down my face, that my eyes were deep red, that my arms were shaking, and that my hair looked as if it had lost a battle with a windstorm.
None of this mattered because Ryan had destroyed me. In minutes, he had blown up everything we had built for so long. A callous act which I never saw coming, one which I would have never thought he was capable of—an act so brazen and evil that I questioned every decision I’d ever made.
“All I need, Mr. Wells, is two minutes. I have to explain.” I could hear the desperation in his voice. It sounded so convincing. The greatest liars always are. Even after what just occurred, I could feel my body leaning in his direction, his pull irresistible.
Thank God dad was here. He would protect me down to his last breath.
“I screwed up. I know that now, but I can’t leave it like this. You must understand.”
Silence followed for a few beats as the only sound I heard was my sobbing—then the squeak of the door.
No!
I popped up to my feet, racing to my bedroom door, leaning all of my puny one-hundred-pound frame against it.
Dad, how could you?
“You’re not getting in, son. I suggest you get back in that car and head home.” I recognized that tone. My dad hadn’t given me up; he wanted to stare down the man who had hurt his daughter. He wanted to put as much fear in Ryan as my heart possessed.
The look must have had an immediate impact, for when Ryan spoke again, his tone and volume had lowered to a respectable level. “I’m getting on a plane in a few hours, sir.” I could hear the plea in his voice and would not be surprised if his emerald eyes had filled with water. That combination was my weakness. “This may be the last time I get to speak to Candice face-to-face for some time. May I just have a minute? I’ll stand right here in the doorway if I have to.”
“Listen, Ryan, you know how I feel about you, and I don’t exactly know what happened tonight, but no. My baby girl is in that room right now in a world of hurt. There’s not a chance in hell that I’ll give you a minute or even a second to hurt her further.” Once again there was a beat of silence before my dad spoke again. “Go get on that plane, Ryan. I suggest you don’t bother Candice. Don’t call, text, tweet, or anything else. When she is ready, and that comes with a big fat if, she’ll reach out. Now I’m going to close this door. You can either step back, or I will squash you like a bug.”
“Tell her—”
His voice was cut off by the slamming of the door. He never got to say those final words. I slinked back to my bed and drew the covers back over my head as the tears raced down my face.
Good riddance, Ryan Parker, the first man to steal my heart. The first man to make me love him. The first man to break my heart. The man who destroyed me for all others.
Chapter One: PRESENT DAY
I squeeze the office door in my left hand as I extend my right and shake the hand of Mrs. Greene.
She clutches the folder of forms we’ve just completed, her quarterly financial checkup. She beams with a confidence she hadn’t possessed an hour ago when she entered.
“Remember what we discussed,” I say as she stuffs the papers in her shoulder bag, “no more cable. We are on track, just stick to the plan.” Listening to twenty-four-hour financial news on cable will make anyone a little insane.
“You have no idea how much this means to me,” she says with gratitude in her eyes. Over the last eighteen months, I’ve developed a plan for her to be able to afford college for her high school freshman daughter without having to take out a second mortgage.
“You don’t have to thank me. You’ve done all the hard work; you are making the sacrifices. I still remember how much you loved Starbucks.”
She smiles at my lame attempt at humor as I continue. “And like I said, there is still a lot of work ahead of us. There are no guarantees in this business.” I spew the standard disclaimers as I’m distracted. For the last thirty minutes, my cell phone has rattled across my desk. The vibrations are so distracting that I had to stick the phone in the desk drawer.
“I’ll see you next quarter,” I add as Mrs. Greene shakes my hand and turns.
Before the words “thank you” float to me, I glance toward my office assistant, Sydney, who is standing and attempting to make eye contact.
“Who’s blowing up my phone?” I regret asking the minute I see her eyes sparkle, already knowing what’s coming.
“Alexa, play ‘Ya Got Trouble’ from The Music Man,” Sydney shouts toward the Echo speaker sitting on the corner of her desk. She begins bouncing her shoulders to the light horns streaming from the speakers. “Ya got trouble right here in Destiny Falls.” She begins a light dance as she creates her own lyrics. “Trouble which doesn’t start with M, which stands for Mia—she’s called three times already.”
I roll my eyes, once again regretting hiring a drama and music major from the local community college. Not really.
Sydney’s a breath of fresh air: young, idealistic, naïve, devoted, and views everything through rose-colored glasses. She reminds me of my younger self; a part of me that I’ve lost touch with along this journey called life.
I wait for her to reach the chorus, hoping there is a message somewhere in this performance. “Ya got trouble right there on line one.” She points to the phone, which is flashing. “She’s on hold, which rhymes with…”
I turn on my heels before Sydney breaks into a tap solo, which unfortunately wouldn’t be her first time. I close the door to my office as I practically race to the desk.
Mia is my best friend, and this isn’t normal behavior for her, especially considering I’ll be seeing her in a few hours. I step around my large mahogany desk and slide my hips onto the edge as I scoop up the receiver. “You had better not be canceling. Not tonight of all nights,” I begin.
The line is silent for a second as I stare down at the phone to confirm the line is connected.
“Mia? You there?”
A blast of country music comes across the line and quickly goes on mute as Mia’s voice replaces it. “About freaking time.” Her voice carries an impatient edge.
“I’m sure Sydney told you I was in with a client. What’s so important that you called my cell and the office line a thousand times in under an hour?”
“Are you sitting?” Mia asks.
I take a deep breath. Mia knows everything about me. Everything. I’m not the sort to be rattled, so if she’s warning me to take a seat, I know I’ll need to brace myself.
I slip off the desktop onto my chair. The ergonomic design pushes me slightly forward, the tips of my toes already bouncing. “Out with it.” I prepare myself for what’s coming.
My hands shake as I nearly drop the phone, not believing the words coming through the receiver. “What? Say it again,” I order, already knowing I heard it right the first time.
For a second all I hear is Mia’s frustrated breathing. “You heard it right the first time. He’s back. Ryan Parker is back home.”
Back home. The words echo in my head. Not coming home, not on his way home, but back home.
I press back, the shift in weight causing the chair to tilt, my head following, lifting toward the ceiling of my office. The harsh fluorescent lights attack my eyes, and I close them tight and slow my breathing. My free hand rises to squeeze my temple.
I had dreamed of this moment so many times that it felt like a memory, but somehow, I am still unprepared. Thankful that I’m in my office alone, I exhale and slowly count to five.
“Candice? Are you still there?” Mia’s voice fills with concern, the sound bringing me back to the moment.
“Yeah, I’m just processing.” I don’t dare share with her my initial thought.
“This doesn’t change a thing; we’re still on for McSorley’s at eight, right? I haven’t eaten a real meal in a week in order to fit into my costume.”
My eyes shift to the coat rack in the corner of my office. My updated costume stares back at me, the green with black stripes minidress that took me almost three months to locate. A variation of the costume I’ve worn for the last four years. An outfit initially chosen because of him.
Shit.
“McSorley’s, of course,” I repeat as my legs rock forward, forcing the chair to tilt me toward the desk. My hand finds the desk edge, stopping my momentum as my eyes lock on the photo: the only picture on my desk, easily the oldest thing in the office.
A teenage version of me stares back. She is wearing torn jeans, a black Warren Buffett is my Uncle T-shirt, and a clipboard on her lap. On the couch sitting side by side are my parents, the best sports in the world. My dad holds my giant pink piggy bank as my mother is attempting to force a dollar into the overstuffed animal.
A different wave of emotions hit me as I feel the pressure in my eyes. My resolve grows alongside the pleasant memory. “Slight change of plans, however…” I begin as the thoughts push over my lips before they have fully formed. “We’re going to need two kids, trick-or-treaters, young but not too young. Can you do that? I’ll swing by at six to grab you.”
“Trick-or-treating? That wasn’t part of the plan. How am I going to find a couple of kids at this late hour?” Mia’s protest isn’t unexpected. Hell, as I hear the words escape from my lips, I question them myself.
I pull a number two pencil from the cup in front of me, one of almost two dozen I keep on the desk, and begin to bounce the eraser on the desktop. “I have complete faith in you. I’ll be there in a few; we’ll go straight to McSorley’s afterward, so dress your best.”
I know the mention of McSorley’s would beat down any further objections as I hang up the phone. I now have less than an hour to finish my work, get dressed, grab Mia, and figure out some way to control the uncontrollable.
Ryan Parker is home after three long years. He is the first and last person in the world I need to see, especially tonight. While every instinct in my head tells me to stay away, every beat of my heart pushes me toward him. Even with our history, I find myself dropping everything and making my way toward him. I wonder if it will prove to be a treat or if the world will once again hand me a trick.
✽✽✽
“Ouch.” The sound of the protest from the little girl on the other end of my hand breaks my concentration.
“I’m so sorry, dearie,” I apologize as I release her tiny hand, the redness fading as she shakes her hands and races up to her friend.
I can’t believe I can’t control any part of me. Each step is a struggle as I attempt to appear calm and rational while every part of me is in near-panic mode.
I picked up Mia and two of her neighbor’s kids just after six. We parked three blocks away from Ryan’s house and were slowly making our way toward his home; two down and one to go.
Mia steps next to me and bumps me on the shoulder. “Nervous much?”
Up to now, Mia had provided me with space. By the time we had parked, she’d already figured out my plan, yet she didn’t say a word. I appreciated the reprieve, but we both know each step is taking us closer to the inevitable.
I deflect the question as I slow my steps, looking to put distance between the kids and us. “I didn’t realize I was squeezing her hand so hard. Is she going to be okay?”
“Who? Little Nicole? She’s fine.” Mia nods up at little Nicole, who is dressed in a red cape and a blue-and-white checkerboard dress, which completes her Little Red Riding Hood costume. Nicole begins to skip as her little sister, Amber, attempts to keep up with her. “She has an older brother who roughhouses with them all the time. I saw him once toss her into a row of hedges, and she jumped out like a WWE wrestler, nearly clotheslining him. That’s one tough girl.”
I glance at the beaming Nicole, a newfound respect in my gaze as the shallow smile on my face fades, and I wonder when my toughness escaped.
“You know, Ryan’s block typically gives out the worst candy. We can totally skip it, drop the kids back, and hit the bar early.” Mia’s words come across as intended: soft, caring, filled with concern.
I love her for what she is attempting to do. She’s my best friend and the only one who knows the full history between Ryan and me. “You know it’s not about the candy.” I try to sound light and bubbly but fail miserably. “I have to do this.” I say the words loud enough for her to hear, however, I’m not sure if they were for her benefit or mine.
“Good, because when he gets a look at you, he is going to lose his mind.” She hooks her arm through mine as we increase our pace, attempting to catch up to the kids. “And probably a few other body parts too.”
I smack her arm as we share a laugh, my first genuine laugh since the phone call. She is right; in the three years that Ryan Parker has been away, I’ve transformed. No longer am I the scarily thin, unattractive, nervous college girl that he nearly destroyed. Today I am an independent, stronger, fitter, and confident woman with hard-earned curves and a bust that men notice.
Two years of yoga training with kick-ass inversions has developed muscles in places I didn’t know should exist. As I square my shoulders and turn the corner to his block, I nearly yell I am woman, hear me roar.
However, one simple step takes away all that false bravado. Ryan’s childhood home is decorated with lights and streamers. A large banner is strung across the bay windows, the one we used to sit in back-to-back and read. I can already feel the tears welling up as I read the large blue and white sign, “WELCOME HOME RYAN.” If that wasn’t enough, the front door to the house is wide open, lights and music streaming out onto the porch. A scrum of kids and parents are collected in front of the house, thirty or more.
The kids are there for the candy, the parents for a personal connection.
My feet stop, but my eyes don’t. They continue the search, seeking the familiar mop of brownish-black hair, the warm emerald eyes which never failed to leave me mesmerized. They scan the crowd looking for the silly smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face. I continue to search even as Mia steps into my personal space, the warmth from her forearm not enough to distract me from my mission.
She taps a rhythmic beat on my forearm. It was only when she began to sway with the tapping that I realize she is moving to the beat of the music streaming from the house, the classic Halloween song “I Want Candy” by Bow Wow Wow. An unforced giggle escapes my lips as the girls race ahead of us screaming in unison, “Me, me. I want candy.”
As they make their way to the back of the crowd, I remain glued in place, a good fifteen yards from the house. Close enough to take in everything but far enough away to blend into the shadows of the tall maple tree off to the side of the house.
The beating of my heart proves louder than the beat of the music as the crowd appears to part as Nicole and Amber push through toward the front. My heart knows it before my eyes acknowledge it—there he is.
One knee on the ground, a large orange Halloween bucket full of candy by his leg, he is at eye level with the kids, offering up the warmest of smiles and the sweetest of treats at the same time. Even over the music, his baritone voice floats out toward me. “My oh my, what a beautiful dress. Hermione, right?” he says to the Harry Potter fan. The little girl lifts her magic wand and waves it at the basket. “I seem to be all out of cauldron cakes, but I do have this muggle treat.” He drops a package of M&M’S in her basket.
She giggles as she waves her wand. “Expecto patronum,” she says and disappears.
For the briefest of moments, I have a direct, unobstructed view of Ryan. His brown mop of hair is now a stylized blown mane of a man who has discovered the benefits of a hair salon. My eyes slowly take him in. His long, sinewy arms that had held me some time ago have filled out with rock-hard muscles. He wears a tight long-sleeve Dallas Cowboys T-shirt, a statement from a kid who grew up in Hoosier country, still a rebel. His muscles strain against the thin fabric, and it lifts up as he stands and stretches toward the sky, the bottom of the shirt riding up to flash his smooth torso.
I raise my hands to my mouth, fearful that a moan will escape. I turn toward Mia, hoping she’ll be the rock I need right now. What I see causes a flash of heat to race through my chest. Mia’s gaze is locked in on Ryan as her tongue rolls over her lower lip. She bites down, chewing on the tongue as if it is a piece of licorice as drool appears in the corner of her mouth. I step in front of her to block her view.
“Excuse you,” she huffs and giggles. She places her hands on my shoulders and lowers her chin. “Looks like your boy came back a man.”
I don’t trust myself to respond as I merely shake my head side to side. Ryan always had an athletic build, and his transformation is not as dramatic as mine, but it is still startling. I kick myself for thinking that when he did return home that he’d look the exact way he had three years ago.
I shift my attention back to Ryan, as he returns his attention to the kids, doling out candy pieces with the joy of a child.
I let out a heavy breath, mesmerized by the care, time, and attention he gives each kid. He treats each as the most important person in the world. He had always had that ability; it’s nice to see that hasn’t changed. Each child turns away with a treat and a smile on their face. I feel Mia’s squeeze on my shoulder as Nicole steps up to Ryan.
“Are you on your way to Grandma’s house?” he asks.
I can tell by Nicole’s body language that the question confuses her. “No… my grandma lives in California.”
“Well, in that case, I will give you two treats.” The corners of his mouth turn up, lighting up the entire porch. My god, I’ve missed that smile.
“Thank you,” Nicole chimes as she turns on her heels. She pauses and turns back toward Ryan. “May I have another treat for Miss Candice?”
I stop breathing as the little girl points in my direction.
The group parts as Ryan begins to rise. His eyes follow the path of Nicole’s arm.
My guilty feet attempt to step back into the shadows, but I feel the resistance of Mia on my shoulders. That witch then does the unspeakable: she pushes me out of the safety of the darkness into the lighted walkway.
He bounces on his toes, his body leaning forward, a look of anticipation on his face. He still hasn’t spotted me as I take a deep breath. Part of me wants him to see me in a Halloween costume only he understands. Yet a big part of me is afraid of his reaction, especially in front of so many people. Against my better judgment, I take another step in his direction, a step which feels like I am slipping off a diving board, expecting to fall into an empty pit.
Ryan, however, turns his attention away from me, taking with it my heart, again. As my gaze begins to lower, I notice Ryan bend over. Amber had been tugging at his pants leg, her arm raised up toward him waiting on her treat. Thank god for little girls and their sweet tooth. I release a deep breath and step back into the shadows, Mia’s hands now wrapped around my shoulder in a reverse bear hug.
The girls race through the group, holding their full-sized candy bars up like trophies. Thoughts of a sugar rush make the girls giddy as they skip past us with giggles. I push back a memory of when Ryan had made me feel the same way.
The girls glance up toward me, their baskets half-full, their eyes asking where to next.
“What you going to do, babe?” Mia asks.
I note the question. You instead of we. The next move is on me. My heart has yet to return to normal as I watch the top of Ryan’s head from the relative safety of the shadows. He is already engrossed in entertaining the next set of superhero children. I pause for a beat, hoping he will look in my direction one more time. I had hoped he would follow the kids and force my hand. I had hoped the lights were brighter and he had seen me. I had hoped that Mia would have pushed me harder and made a scene. Once again when it comes to Ryan, I’m reminded that hope is not a strategy.
“Babe?” The soft words from Mia pull me back to the present.
I have no idea what to do, so I lean back into her and enjoy the view for another moment. The man of my dreams stands right in front of me, yet he may as well be a thousand miles away. “I have no idea.”
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