The Concept |r. blaney|

ten: self destructive love

Cadence had developed a routine of her own following the week Ryan spent with her. Rather than sleeping until noon, eating snacks and a single meal a day, and watching TV so religiously she ran out of entertainment, she found herself actually working. She got up at a reasonable time, had every meal of the day, and began to read and write as consistently as she used to.

Although, it should be noted, that while things seemed to be leveling out in normalcy for Cadence, that racing draft remained untouched. She wasn't ready to explore that chapter of her life just yet. She knew, however, she'd have Ryan at her side for whenever she finally did. That much, she did know. 

And it should also be noted, while Cadence was making such extravagant strides toward healing, Ryan was experiencing something extremely less pleasant. Back home, in North Carolina, he sat with his young nephew in his arms while he caught his oldest sister up on his life; on all the changes, and vice versa.

If you guessed Cadence being one of those changes, you'd be correct. Although, if you expected his sister to match his excitement, you'd be called a dreamer. 

After telling her he spent a week at her home after meeting up only several times before, Emma was slightly cautious with her words. "So... you guys aren't... together?"

"No. We're friends." He told her, hand gently caressing Louie's back. "For now."

"You just said that she was engaged?" She sighed, sipping water from a tall glass. Ryan was in a rocking chair in the screened in porch at his sister's house while she took the big, comfy loveseat. She was curled up, covered in a blanket as she tried to understand her brother's reasoning.

"She was. He died." 

"How?"

"I don't know, I never asked."

"How long ago did he die?"

"I don't know. Over a year, I think?"

"So..." She paused, laughing incredulously. Ryan frowned, realizing Emma wasn't going to understand. Of course not. That'd be too easy. "Let me get this straight. You... shit faced drunk, met a girl. Gave her your number after the Phoenix race, so she called back. Awesome, big shot NASCAR driver. Her fiance is dead, you don't know anything about it, and... what? You plan on dating her?"

"She didn't know I'm a driver, and so what?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders. Keeping his voice just above a whisper was getting more and more difficult as he tried his absolute hardest not to grow offended by his sister's harsh words. "She lost someone she loved. I'm giving her time to sort it all out."

"Okay, and I understand that, Ryan. I do. But are you sure pursuing a practical widow is a good idea?" He stayed quiet for a moment, brow drawn together as his lips pursed into a thin line. The sleeping child on his chest stirred, but besides that, both Blaney's were still and stubborn. "In my opinion, and you know I'm looking out for your best interest, it sounds like a bad idea."

"And why is that?"

Emma tilted her head to the side, as if the answer were so obvious. To some, maybe even many, it was. To Ryan, however? It was anything but that. "She's grieving, Ry. I know it didn't work out wit--"

"That isn't the same."

"Okay. All I'm saying, and ask Erin too... It seems a little self destructive. Falling in love with someone grieving a loss like she is isn't practical and it comes with so much baggage. I just... After everything, I'm not sure it's what you need." She inhaled sharply, shaking her head with a pitiful frown. Ryan looked away from his sister, thoughtfully gazing out to his vehicle. He was quiet for a moment, if that, before he gently resituated Louie in his arms and got to his feet.

"I appreciate that, Emma. Looking out for me." He told her softly, gently passing the child to is sister. "But-- I don't care. This is what I want. She is who I want, and I don't care how much time she needs or how much baggage she has. You're right, I hardly know her. But what I do know... is I'm willing to believe that she's worth it all. All the baggage." He shrugged his shoulders, stuffing his hands in his jeans as his sister looked up to him, cradling her child. "So, I'm gonna drive home. I'm gonna see how her evening went, and ask her to come here with me next week. Feel free to text if you want to meet her."

He turned away, pushing the screen door open and preparing to leave. He paused, licking his lips as he turned back to his sister. "Em,"

"Yeah?" She asked softly.

"I'd like you to meet her."

"I'll text you." She promised, pressing an absent minded kiss to her son's head. "Goodnight. Drive safe,"

"Night, Em. Night, Louie." He cooed before guiding the door shut. He walked down to his truck, getting inside and starting it. He grabbed his phone shooting her a text so he'd have her response before he arrived home-- even though his drive home was less than fifteen minutes. She was so thankfully dedicated to keeping up with him.

Unbeknownst to him, her persistence in texting this was due to her dodging a call from her fiance the night he died just so she could finish the meal before he arrived home. But that was a fact that was better left unsaid.

He appreciated the promptness, why elaborate?

Cadence, sitting at her desk typing away on her laptop clicked on the message he sent to her. She smiled softly, formulating her response quickly and pressing send; although, at this point, she also knew that he'd be home soon.

See, the sense of familiarity between the two in itself was enough to justify Ryan's very dedicated determination. This, however, was something only the two of them would be able to revel in.

As time passes, it becomes increasingly more evident that the outside worlds understanding of their relationship is quite amatuer. With that being said, it could be argued that the world's basic understanding of love was just as amatuer.

As already stated before, and will be stated again, Cadence had met the love of her lifetime. This is so incredibly rare-- so perhaps it were true. Perhaps the world as a whole knew nothing about what it meant to love and be loved.