Nola: You know I love you, but this is all very cringy.

Penn: Cringe factor is about a ten out of ten on this one.

Banner: I’d say eight out of ten. Ten out of ten would be if he proposed at the end and asked her to re-marry him.

Nola: Ooof, that made me shiver.

Penn: Please don’t do that, man.

Ryot: I’m sorry, but I thought you all were my friends and family. You’re supposed to be helpful.

Nola: We are. We don’t think it’s the right move.

Ryot: Well, I do. You didn’t hear her last night when we were in the hotel alone. You didn’t see the way she looked at me. Something is still there, and if I have to take the next few days to win her back the way I initially did, through friendship and trust, then I fucking will. I’m not giving up on her. She’s had enough people give up on her in her lifetime. I won’t be one of them.

Banner: Okay, that got me a little hard.

Penn: Nipples erect.

Nola: Please remove me from this thread.

Chapter Sixteen

MYLA

Six years ago . . .

“Ryot, you don’t have to do this,” I say, turning toward him as we sit in the car outside my parents’ house. “We can go to the lake instead, or possibly go on a food tour. We haven’t done that. It might be fun. Or maybe—”

“Babe, shhhh.” He presses his finger over my lips. “Your dad said he wanted to meet me. Therefore, I’m going to meet him. We’ve been dating for a year, so I think it’s time.”

“I know.” Panic trips around in my chest. “It’s just . . . my mom. She’s, she’s going—”

“I’ll handle her.”

“I know you can, but she’s going to put me down and tell you shitty things about me. She never likes it when I’m happy, and she knows how happy I am with you.” She hasn’t physically hurt me since I fought back when I was a teen. But I’ve learned that her tongue is capable of even more savagery. Especially if I’m happy.

“Then let her be jealous, babe.”

He picks up my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, will change my mind on how I feel about you. Okay?”

“Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

We both exit the car, and when we meet on the sidewalk, he takes my hand in his. “I’m right here, Myla. The whole time.”

Together, we head up to a house I didn’t grow up in, just a house I’ve visited. There is no room dedicated to me. There aren’t many pictures of me hanging up, nor is there an ounce of my childhood present. It’s just a house. A house with no meaning to me.

I ring the doorbell and clutch Ryot’s hand tightly as we wait for the door to open. From the other side, you hear my mom bellowing to my dad to answer the “goddamn” door while my dad’s heavy feet shuffle along the hardwood floors.