Forever Yours

Apologies [32]

A/N: Sooo I know it must be torture to all you native-born Californians. I'm aware that I've sort of committed a no-no, making it storm like this here in this scene... but I'm just going to crawl back into my happy imaginary world, yelling, "It's fiction! Fiction! I have rights!" and hope you don't come after me with eggs and tomatoes and things :)

32. Apologies

Maureen

I stumbled closer, ignoring the rush of trepidation clawing at my insides. What if it's not him?

Shut up, I told myself fiercely. He was about thirty feet away now and I could just now start to make out other details - like the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt, that the moonlight glinting on the ground next to him was probably the light reflecting off a bottle - a glass one. And as I got even closer, it washed over me in one knowing wave of realization.

It was him.

Well, at least it isn't some serial killer creep, I told myself, to distract me from the fact that Ryan was sitting only yards away from me and he was here and I was here and there was no one else but us... suddenly my heart was in my throat again. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't find my legs either, so when I stumbled forward, I nearly face-planted in the sand, and it only took some serious balancing on my part to prevent a full tumble.

Standing there behind him in the darkness, I suddenly had the unbearable urge to rush forward and fling myself in his arms. It didn't matter that it'd been so many weeks since I'd seen him last... things were different, yeah, but we weren't.

Were we?

Everything that Charlotte had told me, everything that Sasha said - it flooded my mind now and I felt a staggering blow of doubt and pain rush through me.

What if he hated me so much he wouldn't listen? What if all he saw when he realized I was here was the pain I'd caused him? What if he thought about the last time we'd seen each other and the horrible things we'd said and decided he couldn't forgive me?

I nearly turned around then. I had no right to be here. I had no right to assume that he would listen to me. It was wondering and all, what Dad had said, but what if Ryan wasn't on board? What if he decided he couldn't forget what I'd done to him and this was it, over, now and forever...

But then I remembered Dad's dream. And I felt a surge of hope. I had to believe that he'd give me a chance. I had to believe that there was still something to anticipate for us having a future.

With that thought in mind, I tried to ignore all the rest and I started forward again. The wind howled in the trees and waves crashed along the shore. Every now and then, thunder would roll in the sky.

It wasn't until I was only ten feet away from him that I saw his back stiffen. I didn't know if he'd heard me or had simply sensed my presence but he suddenly turned and then surged up to his feet, grabbing the bottle of beer at his side like it was a weapon. I froze, and I knew the exact moment he recognized me because his whole body went still as stone and only his hand moved to his side as he lowered his arm.

"Maureen?" he said, as if in a stupor, and I wondered if this felt as much like a dream to me as it did to him.

"It's me," I said hoarsely. When I spoke, he stiffened again. He looked as tightly coiled as a spring, every muscle in his body taut and tensely strung.

I thought that once the initial shock wore off, the desire to be in each other's arms again would overcome us both and I could lose myself - at least for a few minutes - in his embrace, relearning every line and fragment of him all over again as I tried to come to terms with this shocking development. It'd be a good warm-up, at the very least, and maybe make it easier to talk over this whole mess. But as I stared at him, I knew that that wasn't going to happen - at least not for a while. There was nothing inviting in his expression, none of the familiar warmth and tenderness I'd grown to expect from him in his eyes. Just weariness. Disbelief. The profound sense of distrust. And that hurt. A lot. For the first time since we'd met, I felt like we were strangers again, except now there was no flirtatious twist to his lips, no amused glint in his eyes, no admiration for me at all.