My Spy 5: A Southern Girl in Paris

Half of My Heart

I watch Ryan becoming drunker as we sit in the back of the cab. I think the alcohol has fully hit him and he can barely keep his eyes open as we make the drive back to my house.

When we reach the driveway, he manages to get his wallet out and if it weren't for me he would have almost paid triple for the cab fare. I tuck the bills back into his wallet and I find a ripped-up piece of newspaper stuck in one of the bill slots. I pull it out and see it's the one of me from the animal shelter wearing Ryan's hat while smiling with one of the poodles. Bash is ripped out of it but it makes me smile knowing he tore this from the paper and kept it. Once he's out of the car, I quickly shove the paper back to where it was and then debate sliding his wallet back into his pant pocket or holding on to it.

He slumps against the cab and I decide to hold on to it so he doesn't think I am trying to get frisky. I pull his arm around my shoulder and we walk in step back up to the house. I prop him up against the door as I rifle through my purse in search of my house key and he says, "You are beautiful you know that?" I roll my eyes as I snatch up my key ring. I shove the key into the lock and he adds, "I still have your pillow ya know? I sleep on it every night 'cause it still smells like your shampoo. That special fruity stuff you order. Is that creepy?" His head drupes down and I am pretty sure he has no idea what he is saying. I personally think it's cute that he still enjoys my smell, but I won't tell him that I slept with his shirt the entire month of January because it smelled of his cologne.

I push the door open and manage to get his arm back around me before crossing into the foyer. We are hardly quiet as we stumble up the loud wooden steps and I have to tell him to shhh twice as we climb the staircase. He leans against me as we make it into the guest room and as soon as I flip the light on, he goes and flops onto the bed.

"I'll get you some water," I tell him before crossing into his bathroom. He mumbles something in response and once I flip the bathroom light on, I see a glass near the sink. I quickly flip the faucet on to fill up the glass and my eyes flit my reflection. It's weird coming home from a bar and not looking like a hot mess.

After I fill the glass, I return to his bedside and say, "Here, drink this." He holds his hand out and takes the glass from me. In the bright light, I can see his eyes are completely bloodshot and his neck can barely support his head. He takes a drink and then forces his eyes to look at me when he unexpectedly asks, "Do you love him?" I freeze next to him but he's still staring at me. He blinks slowly but he is fully aware of what he just asked me. I think of Sebastian and wonder if I do in fact love him. I thought I did until I still felt my heart surge sitting next to Ryan tonight. Is it possible to love someone while still trying to unlove someone else?

I shrug and reply, "I don't know, Ryan." He sighs before flopping back onto the bed. He then asks, "Does he love you?" That is another question I don't have an honest answer to so I reply, "I don't know that either. But even if we did love each other, I don't think it's appropriate to discuss it with you." He lets out an odd laugh and I can't tell what made him do it. He sits back up so he rests on his elbows and then says, "Does he know what I do? For a livin'?" I'm now wondering how his previous question led him to this one but I reply, "He knows you are my ex-boyfriend but I don't think I've expanded beyond that. He's probably aware that you'd kill him if I asked you to if that's what you were wondering."

He narrows his eyes as he replies, "Does know that I am F.B.I? That I work in narcotics up in New York?"

I shake my head, "He knows you are in some form of law enforcement if you worked as his security detail. You were always in a suit and not your windbreaker when I saw you with him, but he's never asked me what unit you work for though," I say and suddenly I am frustrated with his twenty-one questions. He pulls the glass back up to his lips and I snappily ask, "What do you really want to know Ryan? Where are you going with this?"