No Reservations (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 27

2016

Martin had made it all up.

The scales have fallen from my eyes and, suddenly, I've never been more certain of anything in my life. Now I knew that Ryan had never been a fan of Martin either, had never actually viewed him as a friend, I read that diary entry with a completely different mindset. I can now see Ryan wouldn't have ever said all those things about me, which really I should have realised all along.

But, combined with my own self-doubt, and finding him kissing Christine again, it had all seemed like damning evidence back then.

In effect though, due to me not just being honest with my feelings, I may as well have pushed him into Christine's arms.

I cry then. At the thought that we might have actually got together 17 years ago, had it not been for my stupid pride and Martin's vicious lies.

Things could have been so different.

I get my act together. Fix my make-up. Scrunch my hair. Swallow that pride, and go to find the guy who is - who always has been - the love of my life.

"Do you know where Ryan is?" I practically shout, barging through reception and into the bar. I get some curious looks. I probably need to chill the fuck out.

Angus grins at me. "I'm not sure," he replies. "Office, maybe? You okay? You seem a bit . . . Intense."

I nod impatiently. "I'm good, I just need to find Ryan."

"I'm right here," a calm voice says from behind me and I freeze momentarily before I turn around to face him.

He's standing in the doorway, just like he was the first time I saw him inside this hotel and, again, he's looking at me with that inscrutable expression on his face. I have no idea what he's thinking. This time his gaze doesn't slide away though; he keeps watching me steadily, bright blue eyes burning into mine.

He's so beautiful.

"Can we talk?" I ask eventually, my voice shaky, walking towards him.

"Is there anything really left to say?"

I wince at his response. That stung like a bitch, but can I really blame him?

"Ryan?" I whisper pleadingly. Just two days ago he said he'd be there to talk to me when I was ready. He couldn't take that back now, surely?

Or am I already too late?

He eyes me speculatively for a long torturous moment then nods, relenting. "Come on," he says, and I follow him across reception and into the office. He doesn't sit down, just folds his arms and leans against the wall. I eventually prop myself on the edge of the desk.

"So what do you want to talk about?" He asks.

I swallow. "Us. You. Prom."

Words aren't coming easily to me today, apparently. Just when I need them the most.

He raises his eyebrows enquiringly, face still impassive. I blurt on.

"You said the other night you wanted to forget prom and move on from it. But I think we actually do need to discuss it because I've realised I got you all wrong, and I'm so incredibly sorry about that." My eyes are brimming with tears and his are now filled with confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

So I take a deep breath and proceed to spill my guts. About how my vow to tell him how I felt that night was ruined by me not just being honest with Christine, and believing Martin's lies because I found Ryan kissing Christine after coming to confront him.