And the Secrets That Kill [s/a]
Title: And the Secrets That Kill
Author: piano_paranoia
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: You are Brendon
Summary: You didn't mean to fall in love with him. Yes, you knew he was married, but you can't argue with your heart. (Companion to The Hearts That Break)
Disclaimer: This is all a work of my imagination.
Beta: My livejournal-less friend Taylor.
Author Notes: This is dedicated to my friend Alisha who was really mad at Brendon for "wrecking her marriage with Ryan and getting away with it!" This is my attempt to show her that Brendon really suffered during all of this too.
You need a job.
It's not that you don't enjoy freeloading off your parents and living in your childhood bedroom like a loser, it's just that after having that taste of independence while you were at college, you can't continue living under someone else's rules.
Your friend Shane is the one that tells you about the job. “Brendon, dude, my friend Greta just quit her job as this guy's personal assistant. You should totally go for it.”
It doesn't really require any experience, just enough energy to keep up with someone else's life, something you definitely have.
You call and set up an interview.
-p*p-
Now that you're about to enter this guy's office, you feel pretty nervous. You just saw a girl walk out of there with an apprehensive look on her face, and you're now terrified that this guy is some kind of jerk. But you really need this job, so you take a deep breath and knock.
“Come in,” a man's voice tells you. Thankfully, it doesn't sound that scary.
You open the door and are met with a young, handsome guy around your age. He gives you a friendly smile that makes your shoulders relax a little. You instantly smile back. He's wearing a suit, and you feel a little silly in just your jeans and Alternative Ending t-shirt.
However, the guy's eyes light up and he says, “So you have great taste music,” as he points to your shirt.
You can't help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
You end up talking about your music degree that can't seem to get you a job, and how he plays guitar. Before you know it, you're both laughing and talking, and suddenly you have a job.
You shake his hand and promise him he won't regret it.
-p*p-
It's been two weeks since you started working for Ryan, and you never knew a job could be so great. You used to dream of being a rock star or at least doing something with music, but really, this job is kinda perfect for you. It doesn't really require much effort; you just have to make sure Ryan gets all of his messages and gets to places on time (since Ryan can't seem to keep track of what day it is).
Not only that, but you also get these moments where you and Ryan just hang out and have fun. He's an amazing guy. He's hilariously sarcastic and always seems to know what you mean. Most of the time it feels like you're getting paid to hang out with a friend.
You can't think of a better job.
-p*p-
You were a little surprised when you first realized Ryan was married since he's only a year older than you. He doesn't really mention her that much, and you've only seen a picture of her once when he hastily pulled out his wallet and showed you.
That's exactly why, when Ryan invites you over for dinner, you're a little shocked. It only lasts for a second or two, though, and you quickly recover and accept.
Ryan's wife is pretty and nice. She's very friendly, and you can tell how much she loves her husband by the way she looks at him whenever he says anything, like he's the most brilliant man in the world.
You have a pretty nice time.
-p*p-
You're bored out of your mind.
“And he told me I did the best job, and I told him, 'I know' since I'm obviously the best guy in that building,” your date rambles on and on and on.
If you have to keep listening to this guy go on about himself, you'll shoot yourself. You're not quite sure how you got roped into going out with him. He's a friend of a friend of a friend who “would be so perfect for you, Brendon!” Yeah right.
At first you thought, why not? but now you really regret it. This guy is the worst.
He doesn't even seem to notice that you're three seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. What a douche. You wish Ryan was here with you. You're sure he would be whispering funny little remarks in your ear. He always does that during boring meetings, which always end up with you having to hold back laughter.
You have that feeling a lot, now that you think about it. You always seem to find yourself wishing Ryan was there. It's constantly in the back of your mind. You want him there when you're doing laundry, when you're out somewhere with friends, when you're just watching TV. Ryan just seems to make everything better.
Your eyes suddenly widen when you realize exactly what's going on.
You have a crush on your boss.
-p*p-
This is so messed up, you think as you stare at Ryan as he sits across from you behind his desk.
It's been two days since your little epiphany, and that's all you've been able to think about. You can't believe you have a crush on your boss. Your married boss. How?! How did this happen?!
You're a terrible person.
You can't help but think of his wife, so nice, so pretty, waiting at home for her husband. You're such a dick. But it's not like you can really help it! You didn't plan for this to happen!
Ryan's talking to some client on the phone, every now and then looking up at you to roll his eyes or make a face to show how bored he is. You can't help but smile, and this happy, almost bubbly feeling enters your chest. He's so cute.
Oh god...you have it bad.
Your smile drops, and you quickly avert your eyes. This is too much. How did this happen? You've only known Ryan for two months; these feelings shouldn't be this strong. Then again, you do spend most of your day with him. As his assistant, you're practically his shadow.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ryan wrapping the telephone cord around his neck as he says, “Yes, we are doing everything in our power to make sure that the account is absolutely perfect.” His eyes lock with yours as he pretends to hang himself with the cord.
You can't help but laugh and maybe fall a little bit more for him.
-p*p-
“That's way too much ketchup,” you tell Ryan as he drowns his fries.
“No such thing,” he says indignantly with a quick smile in your direction.
You shake your head, but you're grinning. Ryan is so ridiculously ridiculous that you can't help it. He's really making it hard to get over this not-so-little crush of yours. He seems to know exactly how to make your heart melt into a useless little puddle of goo. You simultaneously hate it and love it.
You and Ryan eat lunch together everyday, but this is the first time you've eaten here. The greasy diner-like place you're both having lunch in is like a mixture of cheesy 50's decor and a dingy bar. It doesn't really work, but you like it anyway.
“What're you all smiley about?” Ryan asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Just thinking about how I did your mom last night.”
“That's sick!” he says indignantly, but he's laughing. “Seriously, that was such a gross image in my head.”
You scoff. “Don't even try to pretend the thought of me naked doesn't get you all hot and bothered, Ross,” you say jokingly.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes on you, and the realization of what you just said hits you. Shit. Why the hell did you say that?!
You're about to apologize when he says, “By all means, Urie, take your clothes off. I'd love to see you naked.”
Your entire body freezes, and then relief floods your chest. You chuckle, still feeling a little jittery. “I'm so suing you for sexual harassment.”
There's a small smile on Ryan's face as he takes a bite of his soggy, ketchup drenched fries. It's not the smile he usually wears when making a joke. In fact, he looks a little serious. His eyes have a slightly predatory look to them that makes your body temperature go up a few degrees.
Before you can say anything, Ryan says, “Damn, I think I did use too much ketchup.”
You throw your head back and laugh.
It's only late that night, when you're lying awake in your lonely bed, that you allow yourself to think that maybe, just maybe, Ryan really does want to see you naked...
Your heart starts racing with excitement, no matter how much you don't want it to.
-p*p-
Things have a horrible tendency to snowball.
It started off with little jokes here and there, but now you and Ryan are downright flirting, with plenty of inappropriate comments and flirtatious stares from across the room. And now, there's even lingering touches and seductive whisperers.
It's killing you, but you don't know how to stop it. You're not sure you even want to. You can't deny that you love having Ryan's attention.
All of this flirting has been taking up so much of both of your time that almost everyday you both have to stay late. Of course, you certainly don't mind, and Ryan doesn't seem to either. In fact, he seems more than content to stay with you.
One night, there was really no more work to be done, but you and Ryan stayed in his office anyway. You aren't really doing anything, just sitting there and talking to him about everything and nothing. It's nice.
You're not really sure how, but the topic somehow landed on sex.
“I'd love to have sex with you,” Ryan says with a sexy grin. “I could fuck you on this desk.”
You laugh. “Promises, promises. You are such a tease, Ross.”
His eyes have that predatory look to them again, and your breathing turns a little shallow. You can't take your eyes off of his; it feels like you're under some kind of spell. Before you fully realize what's happened, Ryan is out of his chair and in your lap.
His lips are suddenly on yours, and your first instinct is to kiss back. You've been dreaming about this for months now. You've had countless dreams of this exact moment. It feels like electricity is running from his body into yours, and you moan.
You know it's not right, but you can't help yourself.
-p*p-
As you enter the building the next day, your hands are sweaty. The two Starbucks lattes you get every morning-one for Ryan, one for you-feel abnormally heavy, and your heart is racing.
How are you supposed to face Ryan?
After making out for who knows how long, the janitor knocked, asking if they need the office swept. Shocked and scared, you quickly made an excuse and got the hell out of that building. You felt sick to your stomach all night. You're pretty sure you didn't get more than four hours of restless sleep.
When you open the door to Ryan's office, you're both relieved and disappointed that he's not there yet. You don't really want to face him just yet, but at the same time, waiting around in his empty office will probably drive you crazy. That panicky feeling is rapidly creeping back into your chest.
You turn around sharply to get the hell out of that empty office but then you practically run into Ryan. You probably would've fallen right on your ass and spilled the hot coffees all over yourself had Ryan not quickly grabbed your shoulders to steady you. He's so close-too close.
“Hi,” Ryan mutters, hands still on your shoulders.
You look at anything but his pretty honey eyes. “Hi.”
“Um...yeah.” Ryan lets go of your shoulders and steps around you to enter his office. “Uh, I guess we should, uh, get to...work.”
“Yeah,” you instantly agree, closing the door before walking towards Ryan, who's now sitting behind his desk. You hand him the coffee and try not to gasp when his fingers brush yours.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Part of the job.”
“Right...job.” Ryan stares at the cup for a long, seemingly endless moment before suddenly rushing out, “We should talk about what happened last night.”
You quickly look at the floor, dread eating away at your stomach. “I'm sorry. I-I don't know why I-”
“Bren,” he cuts in, voice so gentle that you can't help but look at him. “If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I'm the one that... You have nothing to be sorry about.”
You bite your lip, unsure about what to say.
Slowly, hesitant, Ryan gets up and cautiously walks towards you. He stops when he's only a couple of inches a way, and you want nothing more than to kiss him again. It's almost as if he has some gravitational field around him, always pulling you in.
“Bren,” he repeats, saying your name so lovingly that you almost melt, “I don't regret what happened last night.”
It takes a second for your brain to register the fact that yes, Ryan really did say that, but when you do, your heart stops. “You-you don't?” you can't help but ask, lungs unable to take in oxygen.
He grabs your hands and pulls you a little closer. “I don't,” he tells you softly as he shakes his head. “Do you?”
“I...” You're not sure what to say. You just want to kiss him. But he's married. This is wrong. He's technically your boss. You shouldn't. “I don't regret it.”
Suddenly his lips are on yours and yes, oh god yes. His arms go around your waist, making it so that your body is completely pressed against his. You can feel him melt against you.
You let yourself get lost in him.
-p*p-
You know it's wrong. You know you shouldn't. You know.
But you can't help yourself.
You and Ryan sneak kisses at every opportunity, which means that neither of you get much work done. You both stay late and hurriedly finish everything so that the rest of the night you can spend kissing each other.
Surprisingly, that's all you've done so far. Just a few heated make out sessions, maybe a little bit of groping, but that's about it. You're scared to take it farther than that. You've never had to deal with something like this. All the guys you've dated have been, well, single.
But you want to have sex with Ryan. You really, really do. It's almost insane how much you want him. But every night he goes home...to his wife. Just thinking that hurts you more than you ever thought was possible. Ryan has a wife.
“What're you thinking about?” Ryan asks, snapping you out of your thoughts, a fond smile on his lips.
You're not sure what to say. You just shrug. “Nothing much. Just spacing out I guess.” It's not a very clever lie, but you don't want to tell Ryan what's really bothering you. You knew what you were getting yourself into.
“Come here,” he tells you as he pats his lap. His face is playful, and you can't help but smile.
You do as you're told and quickly place a kiss to his lips. There's just something about him that you can't resist. You're pretty sure you're falling in love with him.
He kisses you back with that passion and electricity that you've never experienced with anyone else. His hands travel down your back and come to a stop before reaching your ass. Oh god, you want him. You're sure it'll drive you crazy.
“Bren,” he whispers between kisses. “Bren, lets ditch today.”
“What?” I ask, slightly confused, mind fuzzy.
Ryan moves down to your neck, nibbling and sucking. “Please, Bren. Lets go to your place. We can-we can-”
“Yeah, ok,” you hastily agree. “Yeah, lets go.”
The car ride to your place is filled with desperate want and stolen kisses. You're sure it's not safe to drive with Ryan nibbling at your ear, but it's not like you were about to tell him to stop.
Once you finally manage to enter your apartment (apparently it takes a long time to open a door when you and Ryan are sucking each other's face), it's a frantic rush to take each others clothes off. Soon enough, you're both on your bed, moans echoing loudly in the room.
You completely forget yourself in his arms.
Ryan stays in bed with you all afternoon, talking softly about everything, exchanging kisses every other sentence. He looks so gorgeous with his hair all messy, lips slightly swollen. Your heart throbs as he looks into your eyes with this look that makes you melt.
But at the end of the day, he still has to go home.
You can't help but feel like shit.
-p*p-
You and Ryan are out at lunch like usual.
You're having a pretty hard time eating your spaghetti. You've always been a bit of a messy eater, especially with spaghetti. Is there even a way to eat it neatly?! You're pretty sure there isn't since you have sauce all over your face.
“You're too cute,” Ryan suddenly chimes in, a laugh in his voice. He grabs his napkin and leans over the table to wipe your face.
You let him, feeling a little like a kid, but you don't mind. You can't help but grin.
Suddenly, he grabs your hand, face serious. “I've, uh, I've been meaning to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I...I love you.”
Your heart stops. You're sure you heard him wrong. Those words did not leave his lips-they can't have. But one look into his nervous face quells your fears. He's serious. “I love you, too,” you tell him, heart racing.
He smiles, relieved, and leans in to kiss you. He doesn't seem to care about the people around or who might see. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you can't help but sigh.
You feel deliriously happy.
-p*p-
As Ryan enters his office, you instantly know something's wrong.
It takes a bit of prying, but eventually he tells you exactly what's troubling you. Your stomach sinks with each passing second, and you feel almost desperate. Ryan's going to have a baby. He's going to be a father.
What the hell did you expect?! Ryan's married! He has a wife and now he's going to have a baby! This was doomed from the beginning. You should've known better. You should've left while your heart still belonged to you.
“I need to...” you trail off, not sure what you even need. You shake your head, hoping to somehow make it start working again. “I need to go. I need to think.”
“Brendon,” he calls after you as you walk out the door.
But you don't stop-can't. You break into a run as soon as you leave the building. You don't look back, afraid of what will happen if you do. You get in your car and drive home.
You need to make your heart and your head stop hurting so much.
-p*p-
As you walk into Ryan's office the next day, the usual Starbucks cups in your hand, you're still not completely sure what's going on with your head. Your heart still hurts like hell, but your mind is fuzzy. You can hardly think coherently.
Ryan instantly jumps out of his chair when he sees you. He quickly closes the door and cautiously watches you as you set the cups down on his desk. He seems to not know what to say to you, but that goes both ways.
“Bren-”
“Let's just-let's just not talk about it right now, ok?”
He nods before slowly walking towards you. He looks at you for a second, eyes hesitant, before wrapping his arms around your waist. You let him, wrapping your arms around him as well. He seems just as lost and confused as you are.
“I love you,” he whispers, making you want to cry.
“I love you, too.”
You don't ever want to let him go.
-p*p-
You avoid it.
You don't know what else to do. There's a stupid part of your brain that's convinced that if you don't talk about it, it won't happen. You and Ryan just work around it. But it's obvious that things are different. He actually goes home on time more often than not. He's buying a new house, a bigger one. Not to mention there's always that look of worry on his face.
You're just not sure you can handle this. There's a constant ache in your heart that you can't seem to get rid of no matter what you do. No matter how much you try not to think about it, late at night when you're alone, it's the only thing on your brain.
After not being able to sleep at all on Friday, you finally decide you can't take it anymore. You can't! You'll drive yourself crazy. You need to put a stop to this before it destroys you.
You stand outside the door of his house for two minutes before finally finding the courage to ring the doorbell. It takes everything you have not to run away. Especially when his pregnant wife answers the door.
With a forced smile, you say, “Hey, I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but I really need to talk to Ryan.”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” she tells you with a worried looking smile. “But is everything ok? You look a little down.”
Your stomach clenches painfully at the words. You quickly avoid looking at her, half convinced that she can read your mind. “Yeah, everything's fine. Congratulations on the baby, by the way.”
Her face instantly lights up, and oh god, how could you do this to her? “Thanks,” she says proudly as she looks down at her stomach, a fond smile on her lips. “Do you want to touch it? Everyone's suddenly just attacking me.”
“Oh, no that's ok. I-” Before you can finish she grabs your hand and places it on her stomach.
“The baby just started kicking a couple of days ago,” she informs you.
You feel frozen. How is it possible to stand here on her porch, touching her stomach, after all you've done with her husband. This is so wrong. But suddenly, there's a kick. You feel it-you feel it in your hand, and you can't help but smile a little. This is Ryan's baby. It's a little piece of the man you love.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Brendon,” she tells you, and you look up to see Ryan standing there. “I got so excited I didn't even ask you to come in.” She holds the door open for you, and your heart starts pounding. You're not sure how you feel about being in the same house with Ryan and his wife. It's weird, but you suck it up and enter anyway.
You glance at Ryan but quickly look away. Just looking at him while his pregnant wife is right there makes you feel almost sick with guilt. “Um, could we talk for a minute?” you ask Ryan.
He nods, looking at you with eyes so concerned that it makes your heart melt a little. He leads you up the stairs, and you can't help but look around a little in wonder. It's a very nice house; much better than your ratty apartment. She must've decorated it because it doesn't look like Ryan's taste at all. You enter his office and it makes you smile a little when you realize it looks almost exactly like the one at work.
“So...” Ryan says hesitantly. He slowly walks towards you and-after a quick glance at the door, probably to make sure it's locked-takes your hand. “What's wrong.”
You can't help but choke out a laugh, even though it's already laced with tears. “What's wrong? Ryan, your pregnant wife is downstairs. This is-I can't do this. This is just too fucked up.”
His grip on your hand tightens. “Don't say that. We can-I can fix this.”
“How? How can you fix this?” you ask, feeling desperate. “We have to put a stop to-to whatever it is we're doing. We can't do this.”
Ryan suddenly lets go of your hand and wraps his arms around you. You don't want to hug him back. You just want to move on. You want to leave and never think about him again. You want to stop loving him. Except that you don't. You don't, and you're suddenly clinging onto him.
“I love you, Bren,” he whispers into your ear, voice frantic and just as upset as you feel. “I don't know what I'd do without you. I-I'll leave her. Before this happened-before I found out she was pregnant-I was thinking about getting a divorce but then she-”
“She's going to have your baby, Ry. You can't just leave her.”
“I can still be there. I can still be a good dad. I just can't lose you.”
You were set on ending this. You wanted to make things right. But after who knows how long, after the arguing and the tears and the kisses were over, Ryan somehow convinced you to stay. You don't know how he did it, but he did. You blame it on your heart, since your mind isn't this much of an idiot.
With one last kiss, he leads you downstairs. You say a quick goodbye to his wife, making sure not to look at her directly. Just as you're about to step out the door, Ryan mutters, “You have no idea how much I love you, Bren. We're gonna get through this, ok? We will. I promise.”
You nod. “I love you too,” you tell him, not sure about anything other than that fact.
He gives you a quick peck on the lips, obviously not caring very much if his wife sees or not. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
You don't know how you're going to manage this, but you'll figure it out. You love Ryan. You love him. Yes he's having a baby with his wife, but...but you love him. Your argument is so stupid it almost makes you laugh. There's no logic behind it, but you love him.
You just hope you're not making a mistake.
-p*p-
Your groan a little when you realize the phone is ringing.
This is the first business trip you and Ryan have taken since your friendship actually turned to...well, this. Your body still feels sluggish from having sex, and the last thing you want to do is open your eyes and answer that stupid phone.
Beside you Ryan just mumbles unhelpfully, “Make it stop,” so you grab Ryan's phone and answer.
“Who's this?” a woman's voice shrills in your ear, making your heart stop.
You quickly shake Ryan and point to the phone and whisper, “Your wife.” He stares at you blankly, so you repeat, “Ryan, your wife's on the phone!”
His eyes suddenly widen and he says, “Shit,” before taking the phone.
“Hey, is something wrong? Is the baby ok?” Ryan says into the phone, a frown on his face. “Oh, that was Brendon. The hotel messed up and gave us one room with two beds instead of two rooms with one bed.”
Your quirk an eyebrow a little impressed by the lie.
“Do you need anything?” he asks his wife, his free hand fiddling with his hair, his nervous habit.
You can't help but feel awkward and slightly dirty knowing that somewhere back home Ryan's wife is alone. Your conscience is black with guilt. That line between wrong and right is blurred by your emotions, and you're not sure if it's even there anymore.
After Ryan hangs up, there's a moment of silence where neither of you know what to say. You're sure he must feel the guilt as well, but you don't want to bring it up. Instead, you gently place your hand on his, trying to silently comfort both of you.
He laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hand.
You take that as 'we're going to be fine.'
-p*p-
You and your sister have always had a special bond since you're both at the bottom of the sibling food chain. She's only two years older than you so for the most part you two get along pretty well. Today, however, you can't stand her.
“Let's call him! I'll pretend to be the other girl and then you can be like 'Got you bitch!' and then, like, dump his ass.”
You sigh again for the millionth time. “No. Just-let it go, ok?”
“What?! You have got to be kidding me! He's cheating on you, got that slut pregnant, and you're going to just let him get away with it?!”
You close your eyes and try to stop the horrible feeling in your chest. Your sister saw Ryan and his wife at some restaurant and recognized him from the one picture you showed her of him after she whined about wanting to meet your “secret boyfriend” for weeks. You're just glad she didn't cause a a scene at the restaurant, but really, how the hell are you going to get out of this one?
“Please let it go,” you beg in vain. Your sister has always been stubborn and doesn't take things lying down.
“How can you let him do this to you?” she asks indignantly. “You don't even seem mad!”
“That's because I have no reason to be,” you grumble. “I already knew he was married.”
Your sister's eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. The room is completely silent for only a short moment before she yells, “What?! Oh no, please tell me I just had momentary second of insanity because you would not be stupid enough to go out with a married guy with a kid on the way.”
You frown. “I tried to break it off, okay? I tried, but he-I love him.”
“That is so stupid! You can't do this to a family, Brendon.”
“I know, okay? I get it,” you say defensively. “I know what I'm getting myself into.”
“Well obviously you don't if you're still with that cheater.”
Your chest fills with rage, and you really feel like punching her. “You don't even know him! He's a good person-”
“Sorry to break it to you, honey, but someone who cheats on his wife isn't a good person.”
“He doesn't love her though!” you argue, angry but also hurt. “He loves me.”
“Oh god, now you sound like those abuse victims,” she spits. In a mocking voice she says, “He doesn't mean to hit me. Really, it's all my fault. Deep down he loves me.”
“Shut up!” you yell angrily. You don't need this shit. “He does love me, okay? He even told me he'd leave her for me, but I wouldn't let him. I'm the one that told him to stay with her for the sake of the baby.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, and that makes this entire situation so much better. Bravo, Brendon! Way to go, pal! You really saved a family there.”
“Get out,” you tell her in a serious tone, fury evident in your face. “Get out of my apartment.”
“Fine. But you'll see. He'll never leave her, and you'll just be his little affair. His dirty little secret.”
“Go!”
She gives you a glare before grabbing her purse and leaving, slamming the door on her way out. Suddenly the world seems too quiet, and all you can hear is your labored breathing. You collapse on the couch, eyes stinging with angry tears.
She's wrong. She doesn't know what she's fucking talking about. Ryan does love you. He loves you, and if it weren't for the baby-that little piece of Ryan-then he'd be here with you.
You take a deep breath and then slowly release it, desperately trying to keep the sobs at bay.
Exactly one hour after your sister leaves, your phone rings. It's your mother, wanting to know if it's true, if you really are ruining someone's life. There's no point in lying so you tell her the truth.
Her reaction isn't better than your sister's.
Soon enough your entire family has called you-from your grandma to your second cousin-all appalled at what you've done. After three hours, you just turn off your phone.
You can't believe you just lost your family.
-p*p-
You spend the entire morning crying into Ryan's arms, heart completely broken.
You've always been close to your family. Even when you stopped being Mormon, even when you told them you're gay, even when you decided to study music instead of law like they wanted, they were still your family. Now you have nothing.
“It's ok,” Ryan whispers comfortingly in your ear before placing a kiss on your temple. “I'm so sorry you have to go through this. It's all my fault.”
You shake your head and tighten your arms around him. “I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you, too. I love you so much.”
You bury your face in his shoulder, and suddenly the world doesn't seem as horrible. You'll be ok. As long as Ryan's here, you'll be ok.
You close your eyes and sigh.
-p*p-
The baby's going to be born pretty soon.
It's going to be a girl, and you're both terrified and a little excited. You've come to accept the fact that Ryan will have a daughter, but you're still a little afraid that maybe he'll leave you. He's already promised a million times that he won't, but there's still that horrible, nagging fear in the back of your mind.
But still, a baby.
You'd never given much thought to children. You spent your youth thinking you'd be out touring and being a rock star, so the farthest you thought ahead was maybe to pull a Madonna and adopt a baby from Africa or something.
But this is different. This is Ryan's actual baby. In some messed up way, you almost feel as if it's your baby as well. You can't help but wonder if this little girl will have Ryan's eyes or his nose or his hair. It makes you smile despite the small ache in your chest.
“So,” you try to say casually as you lean on Ryan's desk, “have you thought of a name for the baby?”
He looks up from the paper he was reading, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. “Um, no. We haven't really talked about it much.”
You don't like that 'we' part, but you let it go. “I've always liked the name Bree.”
He quirks an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, avoiding eye-contact. “Yeah. It's nice.”
“It's very nice.”
“Yeah.” You look up to see him grinning, and you can't help but smile yourself.
“I like it.”
Your heart swells.
-p*p-
Ryan calls you in the middle of the night, voice filled with amazement. He tells you that his daughter just came into the world and she's perfect. Absolutely perfect and healthy and beautiful.
You smile. “That's great, Ry.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice still filled with awe. You can tell he has tears in his eyes. “She's...she's my daughter.”
A heavy feeling enters your chest, but it's not necessarily a sad one. “I can't wait to see her,” you tell him.
“I can't wait for you to see her either,” he says softly, a smile in his voice. “I just know you're going to love Bree.”
“...Bree?” you asks, heart skipping several beats.
He laughs. “Yeah. Bree Madeline Ross.”
You can't help but grin, chest filled with so much happiness you might just burst with joy.
-p*p-
She's absolutely gorgeous.
You're almost afraid to hold her, terrified that you'll drop her or something. But when Ryan puts her in your arms, you manage to hold on. It's incredible. Her tiny face is so pretty and delicate. You're sure you've never seen a more beautiful baby. This kid should get into modeling.
“Ryan,” you whisper, amazed.
“I know,” he whispers back, walking towards you and his daughter. He carefully wraps his arms around both of you, a grin on his face.
You look up and smile, feeling content and worry free. This baby won't tear you and Ryan apart. You're already amazed by her. Ryan leans down to place a soft kiss on her forehead before kissing your lips. Things are going to be ok.
“I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you, too.”
You look down at the little bundle in your arms and feel your heart melt.
-p*p-
“Hello?”
“Come outside,” Ryan's excited voice tells you through the phone.
You instantly grin. “What?”
“Just come outside!”
“Ok, ok, I'm on my way,” you tell him before hanging up and heading towards the door. Once you're outside, your mouth drops open.
Ryan's leaning against a car you've never seen before, a large grin on his face.
“What's this?” you ask once you're only a few feet away.
He nods towards the car. “What, this?”
“Yes, that. Did you get a new car?”
“No, actually,” his grin widens, “this is for you.”
You stare at him for a second before asking again, “What?”
He laughs. “It's an early birthday present.”
“This is too much, Ross! I can't accept a car-”
His arms wrap around you, and he pulls you in for a kiss. “Just tell me you love it,” he mumbles against your lips.
You laugh. “Yeah, ok, I love it.”
“Knew it,” he says before he pecks your lips. “Oh and this isn't even all of it. How do you feel about going out of town this weekend for your birthday? Just you and me?”
Your chest feels like it's going to explode from all the happiness. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious!”
You know your relationship isn't exactly normal, but you absolutely love this man.
-p*p-
You don't know how time has managed to go by so quickly, but suddenly it's Thanksgiving and you're standing outside of Ryan's house. You bite your lip and take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Hopefully this won't be a disaster.
It was more than a little touching when Ryan asked you to come over for Thanksgiving. You didn't even tell him that your mother called last week to let you know that you're not invited until you stop being a home wrecker. It hurt, but you don't need them. You have Ryan.
The door opens to reveal Ryan's grinning face. Loud laughter comes from somewhere inside the house, and he says, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
He nods. “Oh yeah. I'm pretty much dying here.”
You laugh. “Well it's a good thing I came to save you then.”
Dinner's rather nice, even though that Lizzy chick kept trying to flirt with you. Oddly enough, it's not as awkward as you were sure it was going to be. Ryan's wife is mostly preoccupied with making sure everything goes smoothly, so you don't even see her that much. There's a big part of you that misses your family, but you instantly push those thoughts away.
As everyone is slowly walking towards the living room, you suddenly feel a hand wrap around your wrist. Ryan gives you a sneaky smile as he pulls you away from the group and heads towards the front door.
Once you step outside, you ask, “What're you doing?”
He laughs. “Like you don't know.”
Soon enough you're against the side of his house, Ryan's body deliciously pressed against you. He smiles and you can't help but smile yourself. He starts kissing you, and you feel like you could melt. This is wrong-you know it is-but you can't stop yourself.
Ryan starts kissing your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck. Your knees feel a little weak. You're trying to stifle the loud moans that want to come out of your mouth, but you're not sure how successful you are.
“Ross,” you moan weakly, “your family's inside.”
He pulls back and looks straight into your eyes, making your insides squirm with want. “Couldn't resist,” he whispers before kissing your again.
Your mind shuts down and all you can feel is pure desire as Ryan's hand slips under your shirt. You can hear him make this little whimpering noises that are really not helping the problem that's starting to grow in your pants.
You swear you hear a door shut somewhere, but you're too far gone to give it much thought.
-p*p-
“You're just the cutest little thing, aren't you?” you coo at your favorite girl in the world.
Bree giggles, the sound making you light up.
Ryan is banging around your kitchen as he fixes lunch, but you barely even notice as you continue playing with Bree in your arms. She is so big now! You can hardly believe it. She's the spitting image of her father, and you're sure you've never seen a prettier baby.
“Can you say Bren-don?” you ask her. “Bren-don?”
“Brennon,” she repeats, making you smile.
“That's right. Bren-don.”
“Brennon!”
You rub your nose against her, and she giggles. You can't help but chuckle as well. You love her so much. She might as well be your baby too.
“Aw,” you suddenly hear Ryan coo. You turn to see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “That was so adorable.”
You blush a little, but that grin is still on your face.
Bree and Ryan come over every Sunday without fail. You can't quite remember when it started but you can't image spending a Sunday in any other way. You absolutely adore Bree, and she seems quite fond of you as well. She's so smart and beautiful and amazing.
Most Sundays are spent lazing around your apartment, and in a way it's kind of like seeing what it would be like if you, Ryan, and Bree were a family. Ryan always comes early enough for the three of you to have breakfast together, and he doesn't leave until late in the evening. Each Sunday that goes by you start to think that maybe...maybe you should take Ryan up on that offer to divorce his wife.
You're not sure why you keep insisting he stay with her. There's just a part of you that feels horribly guilty for what you're doing. Of course, it's not really fair for Ryan to stay with her when he loves you. Plus, there's also Bree to think about. You just don't want to be the one to break up a marriage. That would be like proving your family right. Then again, helping Ryan cheat isn't exactly much better.
“Come on, let's have dinner,” Ryan says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You lift Bree onto your hip and head towards the kitchen.
-p*p-
You're not sure what to think when you opened the door and see your mother.
There's a moment of awkward silence before she asks, “Can I come in?”
You hesitate before nodding and moving aside to let her enter your messy apartment. She looks around for a second, as if it's the first time she's seen your place, before taking a seat on the couch. You walk a little towards her but don't sit down. You feel nervous and angry and maybe a little hopeful. You're not really sure what she's doing here.
As if reading your thoughts, she says, “I just came to talk.” She looks down at her lap. “I miss you.”
Your chest swells, but you can't forgive that easily. “You're the one that didn't want to see me.”
She sighs. “Brendon, I just...No one can understand what you're doing. We all accepted that you were gay. We stood by you. But a married man? With a child?”
“I know it seems really bad,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. “But Ryan is...I love him. And I love his daughter, too.”
“Do you know what you're doing to his poor wife?” his mother asks in that tone she used when he was a kid that never failed to make his insides squirm with guilt. “If she ever found out about what you're doing, do you know how much that would break her heart?”
You sit down on the couch opposite of her and sigh. “I know. I know what I'm doing is horrible, but-”
“There are no buts in this, Brendon. If you know this is wrong, why are you still doing it?”
“Because I love him,” you reply, sounding a little pathetic.
“That's not a very good excuse.”
“I know.”
“What about his child? You said you loved his daughter. Don't you want her to grow up in a stable environment? Doesn't she deserve that?”
You nod. Bree deserves that and more. She deserves to always be happy, and how can she be when you're ruining her home? If you continue doing this, she'll eventually figure out that you're the cause of her broken home. The thought makes you feel sick.
“We all miss you, Bren,” your mother says warmly. She stands up and moves to sit next to you. She pulls you into a hug and says softly, “You know the right thing to do.”
You swallow, trying to make the knot in your throat go away. You don't want to start sobbing in front of your mother, but your heart feels broken already.
You know exactly what you have to do.
-p*p-
It's Sunday, and Ryan isn't here.
It's only been a week, and already you feel lost. You miss Ryan. You miss Bree. You miss seeing him everyday. You miss hearing Bree's laugh. But you did the right thing.
Right?
You don't know anymore. Everything feels too confusing, too hurtful, too dysfunctional.
The only positive thing that's come out of this is that you finally found a use for your music degree. Your friend Shane opened a music store and hired you to give people lessons. The pay is pretty good, and it keeps you busy enough that you don't drive yourself insane thinking about Ryan.
But when you get home, your stomach instantly sinks, and you feel like crying. You can't help but hear Ryan's desperate voice as he begs you to reconsider.
“No, Brendon, baby, don't do this.”
But you did the right thing.
You did do the right thing, didn't you?
-p*p-
It's been four weeks. It's been four weeks since you told Ryan you couldn't do this. It's been four weeks since your family has once again gotten in touch with you. It's been four weeks of you feeling like shit every waking moment. It's been four weeks, and you can't do this anymore.
You've made up your mind.
You know you're risking losing your family again, but you can't handle losing Ryan and Bree. They're your own family. Yes, what you're going to do to Ryan's wife is horrible, but you're just going to be selfish. You need Ryan.
You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
Ryan's wife answers the door, face instantly hardening when she sees you.
“Hi,” you greet her, trying to smile. You're pretty much about to ruin her world. “I need to talk to Ryan.”
Suddenly, before she can say anything, Ryan is standing behind her, eyes wide. “Bren.”
Your heart starts racing just looking at him, and you want to kiss him and hold him and never ever let go. Ryan's wife turns and leaves abruptly, leaving you both alone. Ryan steps outside, closing the door behind him.
Suddenly your mouth feels dry, and you have no clue what you should say. Ryan is staring at you as if you're about to disappear again, and you can't think. You just want to kiss him, consequences be damned.
Instead you say, “Hi.”
Ryan takes a cautious step towards you. “Hi.”
“So...so I've been pretty miserable,” you tell the ground.
Ryan gently tilts your head up so that your eyes are looking right into his. “Brendon,” he whispers before his lips are on yours.
You kiss him back, heart melting uselessly in your chest. You arms wrap tightly around him, and you're right in front of his house where anyone could see. But you don't care. You don't care. The only thing that's important right now is Ryan's lips on yours and that feeling of happiness that's finally returning to your body after all of this time.
You finally feel like you can breath again.
-p*p-
“Hey, little princess,” you say softly as you pick Bree up from her crib.
Bree instantly stops crying and wraps her tiny arms around your neck. You can't help but smile and kiss her head. You walk out of her room and head towards the kitchen where Ryan is making lunch.
Ryan smiles when he sees you.
You put Bree in her highchair and start getting out the dishes. The shiny gold ring on your left hand catches the light as you reach for the forks, and you can't help but be a little amazed by the fact that you're actually married.
The divorce went by pretty fast. Ryan was awarded joint custody, and so far, things have been pretty good. Ryan's ex-wife started her own business which instantly became a success, and even got married again to a man that seems to adore her. You're very happy for her, especially since now whenever she drops Bree off, she doesn't give you death glares anymore.
Bree starts singing her own made-up song, and you can't wait to start giving her some music lessons. You just know she's bursting with talent; you can tell. And you're actually quite a great music teacher, according to the many people you give lessons to.
After you finish setting the table, you go to your husband and wrap your arms around his waist. He grins and kisses your lips. Everything seems pretty perfect at the moment.
You couldn't be happier.
-p*p-
Everything turned out alright in the end.
---
I hope you guys liked it! The ending is a bit cliche, but I promised my friend Alisha a happy ending
UPDATE!
Ryan's POV When True Love is Found
Author: piano_paranoia
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: You are Brendon
Summary: You didn't mean to fall in love with him. Yes, you knew he was married, but you can't argue with your heart. (Companion to The Hearts That Break)
Disclaimer: This is all a work of my imagination.
Beta: My livejournal-less friend Taylor.
Author Notes: This is dedicated to my friend Alisha who was really mad at Brendon for "wrecking her marriage with Ryan and getting away with it!" This is my attempt to show her that Brendon really suffered during all of this too.
You need a job.
It's not that you don't enjoy freeloading off your parents and living in your childhood bedroom like a loser, it's just that after having that taste of independence while you were at college, you can't continue living under someone else's rules.
Your friend Shane is the one that tells you about the job. “Brendon, dude, my friend Greta just quit her job as this guy's personal assistant. You should totally go for it.”
It doesn't really require any experience, just enough energy to keep up with someone else's life, something you definitely have.
You call and set up an interview.
-p*p-
Now that you're about to enter this guy's office, you feel pretty nervous. You just saw a girl walk out of there with an apprehensive look on her face, and you're now terrified that this guy is some kind of jerk. But you really need this job, so you take a deep breath and knock.
“Come in,” a man's voice tells you. Thankfully, it doesn't sound that scary.
You open the door and are met with a young, handsome guy around your age. He gives you a friendly smile that makes your shoulders relax a little. You instantly smile back. He's wearing a suit, and you feel a little silly in just your jeans and Alternative Ending t-shirt.
However, the guy's eyes light up and he says, “So you have great taste music,” as he points to your shirt.
You can't help but laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
You end up talking about your music degree that can't seem to get you a job, and how he plays guitar. Before you know it, you're both laughing and talking, and suddenly you have a job.
You shake his hand and promise him he won't regret it.
-p*p-
It's been two weeks since you started working for Ryan, and you never knew a job could be so great. You used to dream of being a rock star or at least doing something with music, but really, this job is kinda perfect for you. It doesn't really require much effort; you just have to make sure Ryan gets all of his messages and gets to places on time (since Ryan can't seem to keep track of what day it is).
Not only that, but you also get these moments where you and Ryan just hang out and have fun. He's an amazing guy. He's hilariously sarcastic and always seems to know what you mean. Most of the time it feels like you're getting paid to hang out with a friend.
You can't think of a better job.
-p*p-
You were a little surprised when you first realized Ryan was married since he's only a year older than you. He doesn't really mention her that much, and you've only seen a picture of her once when he hastily pulled out his wallet and showed you.
That's exactly why, when Ryan invites you over for dinner, you're a little shocked. It only lasts for a second or two, though, and you quickly recover and accept.
Ryan's wife is pretty and nice. She's very friendly, and you can tell how much she loves her husband by the way she looks at him whenever he says anything, like he's the most brilliant man in the world.
You have a pretty nice time.
-p*p-
You're bored out of your mind.
“And he told me I did the best job, and I told him, 'I know' since I'm obviously the best guy in that building,” your date rambles on and on and on.
If you have to keep listening to this guy go on about himself, you'll shoot yourself. You're not quite sure how you got roped into going out with him. He's a friend of a friend of a friend who “would be so perfect for you, Brendon!” Yeah right.
At first you thought, why not? but now you really regret it. This guy is the worst.
He doesn't even seem to notice that you're three seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. What a douche. You wish Ryan was here with you. You're sure he would be whispering funny little remarks in your ear. He always does that during boring meetings, which always end up with you having to hold back laughter.
You have that feeling a lot, now that you think about it. You always seem to find yourself wishing Ryan was there. It's constantly in the back of your mind. You want him there when you're doing laundry, when you're out somewhere with friends, when you're just watching TV. Ryan just seems to make everything better.
Your eyes suddenly widen when you realize exactly what's going on.
You have a crush on your boss.
-p*p-
This is so messed up, you think as you stare at Ryan as he sits across from you behind his desk.
It's been two days since your little epiphany, and that's all you've been able to think about. You can't believe you have a crush on your boss. Your married boss. How?! How did this happen?!
You're a terrible person.
You can't help but think of his wife, so nice, so pretty, waiting at home for her husband. You're such a dick. But it's not like you can really help it! You didn't plan for this to happen!
Ryan's talking to some client on the phone, every now and then looking up at you to roll his eyes or make a face to show how bored he is. You can't help but smile, and this happy, almost bubbly feeling enters your chest. He's so cute.
Oh god...you have it bad.
Your smile drops, and you quickly avert your eyes. This is too much. How did this happen? You've only known Ryan for two months; these feelings shouldn't be this strong. Then again, you do spend most of your day with him. As his assistant, you're practically his shadow.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ryan wrapping the telephone cord around his neck as he says, “Yes, we are doing everything in our power to make sure that the account is absolutely perfect.” His eyes lock with yours as he pretends to hang himself with the cord.
You can't help but laugh and maybe fall a little bit more for him.
-p*p-
“That's way too much ketchup,” you tell Ryan as he drowns his fries.
“No such thing,” he says indignantly with a quick smile in your direction.
You shake your head, but you're grinning. Ryan is so ridiculously ridiculous that you can't help it. He's really making it hard to get over this not-so-little crush of yours. He seems to know exactly how to make your heart melt into a useless little puddle of goo. You simultaneously hate it and love it.
You and Ryan eat lunch together everyday, but this is the first time you've eaten here. The greasy diner-like place you're both having lunch in is like a mixture of cheesy 50's decor and a dingy bar. It doesn't really work, but you like it anyway.
“What're you all smiley about?” Ryan asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Just thinking about how I did your mom last night.”
“That's sick!” he says indignantly, but he's laughing. “Seriously, that was such a gross image in my head.”
You scoff. “Don't even try to pretend the thought of me naked doesn't get you all hot and bothered, Ross,” you say jokingly.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes on you, and the realization of what you just said hits you. Shit. Why the hell did you say that?!
You're about to apologize when he says, “By all means, Urie, take your clothes off. I'd love to see you naked.”
Your entire body freezes, and then relief floods your chest. You chuckle, still feeling a little jittery. “I'm so suing you for sexual harassment.”
There's a small smile on Ryan's face as he takes a bite of his soggy, ketchup drenched fries. It's not the smile he usually wears when making a joke. In fact, he looks a little serious. His eyes have a slightly predatory look to them that makes your body temperature go up a few degrees.
Before you can say anything, Ryan says, “Damn, I think I did use too much ketchup.”
You throw your head back and laugh.
It's only late that night, when you're lying awake in your lonely bed, that you allow yourself to think that maybe, just maybe, Ryan really does want to see you naked...
Your heart starts racing with excitement, no matter how much you don't want it to.
-p*p-
Things have a horrible tendency to snowball.
It started off with little jokes here and there, but now you and Ryan are downright flirting, with plenty of inappropriate comments and flirtatious stares from across the room. And now, there's even lingering touches and seductive whisperers.
It's killing you, but you don't know how to stop it. You're not sure you even want to. You can't deny that you love having Ryan's attention.
All of this flirting has been taking up so much of both of your time that almost everyday you both have to stay late. Of course, you certainly don't mind, and Ryan doesn't seem to either. In fact, he seems more than content to stay with you.
One night, there was really no more work to be done, but you and Ryan stayed in his office anyway. You aren't really doing anything, just sitting there and talking to him about everything and nothing. It's nice.
You're not really sure how, but the topic somehow landed on sex.
“I'd love to have sex with you,” Ryan says with a sexy grin. “I could fuck you on this desk.”
You laugh. “Promises, promises. You are such a tease, Ross.”
His eyes have that predatory look to them again, and your breathing turns a little shallow. You can't take your eyes off of his; it feels like you're under some kind of spell. Before you fully realize what's happened, Ryan is out of his chair and in your lap.
His lips are suddenly on yours, and your first instinct is to kiss back. You've been dreaming about this for months now. You've had countless dreams of this exact moment. It feels like electricity is running from his body into yours, and you moan.
You know it's not right, but you can't help yourself.
-p*p-
As you enter the building the next day, your hands are sweaty. The two Starbucks lattes you get every morning-one for Ryan, one for you-feel abnormally heavy, and your heart is racing.
How are you supposed to face Ryan?
After making out for who knows how long, the janitor knocked, asking if they need the office swept. Shocked and scared, you quickly made an excuse and got the hell out of that building. You felt sick to your stomach all night. You're pretty sure you didn't get more than four hours of restless sleep.
When you open the door to Ryan's office, you're both relieved and disappointed that he's not there yet. You don't really want to face him just yet, but at the same time, waiting around in his empty office will probably drive you crazy. That panicky feeling is rapidly creeping back into your chest.
You turn around sharply to get the hell out of that empty office but then you practically run into Ryan. You probably would've fallen right on your ass and spilled the hot coffees all over yourself had Ryan not quickly grabbed your shoulders to steady you. He's so close-too close.
“Hi,” Ryan mutters, hands still on your shoulders.
You look at anything but his pretty honey eyes. “Hi.”
“Um...yeah.” Ryan lets go of your shoulders and steps around you to enter his office. “Uh, I guess we should, uh, get to...work.”
“Yeah,” you instantly agree, closing the door before walking towards Ryan, who's now sitting behind his desk. You hand him the coffee and try not to gasp when his fingers brush yours.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Part of the job.”
“Right...job.” Ryan stares at the cup for a long, seemingly endless moment before suddenly rushing out, “We should talk about what happened last night.”
You quickly look at the floor, dread eating away at your stomach. “I'm sorry. I-I don't know why I-”
“Bren,” he cuts in, voice so gentle that you can't help but look at him. “If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I'm the one that... You have nothing to be sorry about.”
You bite your lip, unsure about what to say.
Slowly, hesitant, Ryan gets up and cautiously walks towards you. He stops when he's only a couple of inches a way, and you want nothing more than to kiss him again. It's almost as if he has some gravitational field around him, always pulling you in.
“Bren,” he repeats, saying your name so lovingly that you almost melt, “I don't regret what happened last night.”
It takes a second for your brain to register the fact that yes, Ryan really did say that, but when you do, your heart stops. “You-you don't?” you can't help but ask, lungs unable to take in oxygen.
He grabs your hands and pulls you a little closer. “I don't,” he tells you softly as he shakes his head. “Do you?”
“I...” You're not sure what to say. You just want to kiss him. But he's married. This is wrong. He's technically your boss. You shouldn't. “I don't regret it.”
Suddenly his lips are on yours and yes, oh god yes. His arms go around your waist, making it so that your body is completely pressed against his. You can feel him melt against you.
You let yourself get lost in him.
-p*p-
You know it's wrong. You know you shouldn't. You know.
But you can't help yourself.
You and Ryan sneak kisses at every opportunity, which means that neither of you get much work done. You both stay late and hurriedly finish everything so that the rest of the night you can spend kissing each other.
Surprisingly, that's all you've done so far. Just a few heated make out sessions, maybe a little bit of groping, but that's about it. You're scared to take it farther than that. You've never had to deal with something like this. All the guys you've dated have been, well, single.
But you want to have sex with Ryan. You really, really do. It's almost insane how much you want him. But every night he goes home...to his wife. Just thinking that hurts you more than you ever thought was possible. Ryan has a wife.
“What're you thinking about?” Ryan asks, snapping you out of your thoughts, a fond smile on his lips.
You're not sure what to say. You just shrug. “Nothing much. Just spacing out I guess.” It's not a very clever lie, but you don't want to tell Ryan what's really bothering you. You knew what you were getting yourself into.
“Come here,” he tells you as he pats his lap. His face is playful, and you can't help but smile.
You do as you're told and quickly place a kiss to his lips. There's just something about him that you can't resist. You're pretty sure you're falling in love with him.
He kisses you back with that passion and electricity that you've never experienced with anyone else. His hands travel down your back and come to a stop before reaching your ass. Oh god, you want him. You're sure it'll drive you crazy.
“Bren,” he whispers between kisses. “Bren, lets ditch today.”
“What?” I ask, slightly confused, mind fuzzy.
Ryan moves down to your neck, nibbling and sucking. “Please, Bren. Lets go to your place. We can-we can-”
“Yeah, ok,” you hastily agree. “Yeah, lets go.”
The car ride to your place is filled with desperate want and stolen kisses. You're sure it's not safe to drive with Ryan nibbling at your ear, but it's not like you were about to tell him to stop.
Once you finally manage to enter your apartment (apparently it takes a long time to open a door when you and Ryan are sucking each other's face), it's a frantic rush to take each others clothes off. Soon enough, you're both on your bed, moans echoing loudly in the room.
You completely forget yourself in his arms.
Ryan stays in bed with you all afternoon, talking softly about everything, exchanging kisses every other sentence. He looks so gorgeous with his hair all messy, lips slightly swollen. Your heart throbs as he looks into your eyes with this look that makes you melt.
But at the end of the day, he still has to go home.
You can't help but feel like shit.
-p*p-
You and Ryan are out at lunch like usual.
You're having a pretty hard time eating your spaghetti. You've always been a bit of a messy eater, especially with spaghetti. Is there even a way to eat it neatly?! You're pretty sure there isn't since you have sauce all over your face.
“You're too cute,” Ryan suddenly chimes in, a laugh in his voice. He grabs his napkin and leans over the table to wipe your face.
You let him, feeling a little like a kid, but you don't mind. You can't help but grin.
Suddenly, he grabs your hand, face serious. “I've, uh, I've been meaning to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I...I love you.”
Your heart stops. You're sure you heard him wrong. Those words did not leave his lips-they can't have. But one look into his nervous face quells your fears. He's serious. “I love you, too,” you tell him, heart racing.
He smiles, relieved, and leans in to kiss you. He doesn't seem to care about the people around or who might see. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you can't help but sigh.
You feel deliriously happy.
-p*p-
As Ryan enters his office, you instantly know something's wrong.
It takes a bit of prying, but eventually he tells you exactly what's troubling you. Your stomach sinks with each passing second, and you feel almost desperate. Ryan's going to have a baby. He's going to be a father.
What the hell did you expect?! Ryan's married! He has a wife and now he's going to have a baby! This was doomed from the beginning. You should've known better. You should've left while your heart still belonged to you.
“I need to...” you trail off, not sure what you even need. You shake your head, hoping to somehow make it start working again. “I need to go. I need to think.”
“Brendon,” he calls after you as you walk out the door.
But you don't stop-can't. You break into a run as soon as you leave the building. You don't look back, afraid of what will happen if you do. You get in your car and drive home.
You need to make your heart and your head stop hurting so much.
-p*p-
As you walk into Ryan's office the next day, the usual Starbucks cups in your hand, you're still not completely sure what's going on with your head. Your heart still hurts like hell, but your mind is fuzzy. You can hardly think coherently.
Ryan instantly jumps out of his chair when he sees you. He quickly closes the door and cautiously watches you as you set the cups down on his desk. He seems to not know what to say to you, but that goes both ways.
“Bren-”
“Let's just-let's just not talk about it right now, ok?”
He nods before slowly walking towards you. He looks at you for a second, eyes hesitant, before wrapping his arms around your waist. You let him, wrapping your arms around him as well. He seems just as lost and confused as you are.
“I love you,” he whispers, making you want to cry.
“I love you, too.”
You don't ever want to let him go.
-p*p-
You avoid it.
You don't know what else to do. There's a stupid part of your brain that's convinced that if you don't talk about it, it won't happen. You and Ryan just work around it. But it's obvious that things are different. He actually goes home on time more often than not. He's buying a new house, a bigger one. Not to mention there's always that look of worry on his face.
You're just not sure you can handle this. There's a constant ache in your heart that you can't seem to get rid of no matter what you do. No matter how much you try not to think about it, late at night when you're alone, it's the only thing on your brain.
After not being able to sleep at all on Friday, you finally decide you can't take it anymore. You can't! You'll drive yourself crazy. You need to put a stop to this before it destroys you.
You stand outside the door of his house for two minutes before finally finding the courage to ring the doorbell. It takes everything you have not to run away. Especially when his pregnant wife answers the door.
With a forced smile, you say, “Hey, I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but I really need to talk to Ryan.”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” she tells you with a worried looking smile. “But is everything ok? You look a little down.”
Your stomach clenches painfully at the words. You quickly avoid looking at her, half convinced that she can read your mind. “Yeah, everything's fine. Congratulations on the baby, by the way.”
Her face instantly lights up, and oh god, how could you do this to her? “Thanks,” she says proudly as she looks down at her stomach, a fond smile on her lips. “Do you want to touch it? Everyone's suddenly just attacking me.”
“Oh, no that's ok. I-” Before you can finish she grabs your hand and places it on her stomach.
“The baby just started kicking a couple of days ago,” she informs you.
You feel frozen. How is it possible to stand here on her porch, touching her stomach, after all you've done with her husband. This is so wrong. But suddenly, there's a kick. You feel it-you feel it in your hand, and you can't help but smile a little. This is Ryan's baby. It's a little piece of the man you love.
“Oh, I'm sorry, Brendon,” she tells you, and you look up to see Ryan standing there. “I got so excited I didn't even ask you to come in.” She holds the door open for you, and your heart starts pounding. You're not sure how you feel about being in the same house with Ryan and his wife. It's weird, but you suck it up and enter anyway.
You glance at Ryan but quickly look away. Just looking at him while his pregnant wife is right there makes you feel almost sick with guilt. “Um, could we talk for a minute?” you ask Ryan.
He nods, looking at you with eyes so concerned that it makes your heart melt a little. He leads you up the stairs, and you can't help but look around a little in wonder. It's a very nice house; much better than your ratty apartment. She must've decorated it because it doesn't look like Ryan's taste at all. You enter his office and it makes you smile a little when you realize it looks almost exactly like the one at work.
“So...” Ryan says hesitantly. He slowly walks towards you and-after a quick glance at the door, probably to make sure it's locked-takes your hand. “What's wrong.”
You can't help but choke out a laugh, even though it's already laced with tears. “What's wrong? Ryan, your pregnant wife is downstairs. This is-I can't do this. This is just too fucked up.”
His grip on your hand tightens. “Don't say that. We can-I can fix this.”
“How? How can you fix this?” you ask, feeling desperate. “We have to put a stop to-to whatever it is we're doing. We can't do this.”
Ryan suddenly lets go of your hand and wraps his arms around you. You don't want to hug him back. You just want to move on. You want to leave and never think about him again. You want to stop loving him. Except that you don't. You don't, and you're suddenly clinging onto him.
“I love you, Bren,” he whispers into your ear, voice frantic and just as upset as you feel. “I don't know what I'd do without you. I-I'll leave her. Before this happened-before I found out she was pregnant-I was thinking about getting a divorce but then she-”
“She's going to have your baby, Ry. You can't just leave her.”
“I can still be there. I can still be a good dad. I just can't lose you.”
You were set on ending this. You wanted to make things right. But after who knows how long, after the arguing and the tears and the kisses were over, Ryan somehow convinced you to stay. You don't know how he did it, but he did. You blame it on your heart, since your mind isn't this much of an idiot.
With one last kiss, he leads you downstairs. You say a quick goodbye to his wife, making sure not to look at her directly. Just as you're about to step out the door, Ryan mutters, “You have no idea how much I love you, Bren. We're gonna get through this, ok? We will. I promise.”
You nod. “I love you too,” you tell him, not sure about anything other than that fact.
He gives you a quick peck on the lips, obviously not caring very much if his wife sees or not. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
You don't know how you're going to manage this, but you'll figure it out. You love Ryan. You love him. Yes he's having a baby with his wife, but...but you love him. Your argument is so stupid it almost makes you laugh. There's no logic behind it, but you love him.
You just hope you're not making a mistake.
-p*p-
Your groan a little when you realize the phone is ringing.
This is the first business trip you and Ryan have taken since your friendship actually turned to...well, this. Your body still feels sluggish from having sex, and the last thing you want to do is open your eyes and answer that stupid phone.
Beside you Ryan just mumbles unhelpfully, “Make it stop,” so you grab Ryan's phone and answer.
“Who's this?” a woman's voice shrills in your ear, making your heart stop.
You quickly shake Ryan and point to the phone and whisper, “Your wife.” He stares at you blankly, so you repeat, “Ryan, your wife's on the phone!”
His eyes suddenly widen and he says, “Shit,” before taking the phone.
“Hey, is something wrong? Is the baby ok?” Ryan says into the phone, a frown on his face. “Oh, that was Brendon. The hotel messed up and gave us one room with two beds instead of two rooms with one bed.”
Your quirk an eyebrow a little impressed by the lie.
“Do you need anything?” he asks his wife, his free hand fiddling with his hair, his nervous habit.
You can't help but feel awkward and slightly dirty knowing that somewhere back home Ryan's wife is alone. Your conscience is black with guilt. That line between wrong and right is blurred by your emotions, and you're not sure if it's even there anymore.
After Ryan hangs up, there's a moment of silence where neither of you know what to say. You're sure he must feel the guilt as well, but you don't want to bring it up. Instead, you gently place your hand on his, trying to silently comfort both of you.
He laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hand.
You take that as 'we're going to be fine.'
-p*p-
You and your sister have always had a special bond since you're both at the bottom of the sibling food chain. She's only two years older than you so for the most part you two get along pretty well. Today, however, you can't stand her.
“Let's call him! I'll pretend to be the other girl and then you can be like 'Got you bitch!' and then, like, dump his ass.”
You sigh again for the millionth time. “No. Just-let it go, ok?”
“What?! You have got to be kidding me! He's cheating on you, got that slut pregnant, and you're going to just let him get away with it?!”
You close your eyes and try to stop the horrible feeling in your chest. Your sister saw Ryan and his wife at some restaurant and recognized him from the one picture you showed her of him after she whined about wanting to meet your “secret boyfriend” for weeks. You're just glad she didn't cause a a scene at the restaurant, but really, how the hell are you going to get out of this one?
“Please let it go,” you beg in vain. Your sister has always been stubborn and doesn't take things lying down.
“How can you let him do this to you?” she asks indignantly. “You don't even seem mad!”
“That's because I have no reason to be,” you grumble. “I already knew he was married.”
Your sister's eyes widen, and her mouth drops open. The room is completely silent for only a short moment before she yells, “What?! Oh no, please tell me I just had momentary second of insanity because you would not be stupid enough to go out with a married guy with a kid on the way.”
You frown. “I tried to break it off, okay? I tried, but he-I love him.”
“That is so stupid! You can't do this to a family, Brendon.”
“I know, okay? I get it,” you say defensively. “I know what I'm getting myself into.”
“Well obviously you don't if you're still with that cheater.”
Your chest fills with rage, and you really feel like punching her. “You don't even know him! He's a good person-”
“Sorry to break it to you, honey, but someone who cheats on his wife isn't a good person.”
“He doesn't love her though!” you argue, angry but also hurt. “He loves me.”
“Oh god, now you sound like those abuse victims,” she spits. In a mocking voice she says, “He doesn't mean to hit me. Really, it's all my fault. Deep down he loves me.”
“Shut up!” you yell angrily. You don't need this shit. “He does love me, okay? He even told me he'd leave her for me, but I wouldn't let him. I'm the one that told him to stay with her for the sake of the baby.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, and that makes this entire situation so much better. Bravo, Brendon! Way to go, pal! You really saved a family there.”
“Get out,” you tell her in a serious tone, fury evident in your face. “Get out of my apartment.”
“Fine. But you'll see. He'll never leave her, and you'll just be his little affair. His dirty little secret.”
“Go!”
She gives you a glare before grabbing her purse and leaving, slamming the door on her way out. Suddenly the world seems too quiet, and all you can hear is your labored breathing. You collapse on the couch, eyes stinging with angry tears.
She's wrong. She doesn't know what she's fucking talking about. Ryan does love you. He loves you, and if it weren't for the baby-that little piece of Ryan-then he'd be here with you.
You take a deep breath and then slowly release it, desperately trying to keep the sobs at bay.
Exactly one hour after your sister leaves, your phone rings. It's your mother, wanting to know if it's true, if you really are ruining someone's life. There's no point in lying so you tell her the truth.
Her reaction isn't better than your sister's.
Soon enough your entire family has called you-from your grandma to your second cousin-all appalled at what you've done. After three hours, you just turn off your phone.
You can't believe you just lost your family.
-p*p-
You spend the entire morning crying into Ryan's arms, heart completely broken.
You've always been close to your family. Even when you stopped being Mormon, even when you told them you're gay, even when you decided to study music instead of law like they wanted, they were still your family. Now you have nothing.
“It's ok,” Ryan whispers comfortingly in your ear before placing a kiss on your temple. “I'm so sorry you have to go through this. It's all my fault.”
You shake your head and tighten your arms around him. “I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you, too. I love you so much.”
You bury your face in his shoulder, and suddenly the world doesn't seem as horrible. You'll be ok. As long as Ryan's here, you'll be ok.
You close your eyes and sigh.
-p*p-
The baby's going to be born pretty soon.
It's going to be a girl, and you're both terrified and a little excited. You've come to accept the fact that Ryan will have a daughter, but you're still a little afraid that maybe he'll leave you. He's already promised a million times that he won't, but there's still that horrible, nagging fear in the back of your mind.
But still, a baby.
You'd never given much thought to children. You spent your youth thinking you'd be out touring and being a rock star, so the farthest you thought ahead was maybe to pull a Madonna and adopt a baby from Africa or something.
But this is different. This is Ryan's actual baby. In some messed up way, you almost feel as if it's your baby as well. You can't help but wonder if this little girl will have Ryan's eyes or his nose or his hair. It makes you smile despite the small ache in your chest.
“So,” you try to say casually as you lean on Ryan's desk, “have you thought of a name for the baby?”
He looks up from the paper he was reading, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. “Um, no. We haven't really talked about it much.”
You don't like that 'we' part, but you let it go. “I've always liked the name Bree.”
He quirks an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, avoiding eye-contact. “Yeah. It's nice.”
“It's very nice.”
“Yeah.” You look up to see him grinning, and you can't help but smile yourself.
“I like it.”
Your heart swells.
-p*p-
Ryan calls you in the middle of the night, voice filled with amazement. He tells you that his daughter just came into the world and she's perfect. Absolutely perfect and healthy and beautiful.
You smile. “That's great, Ry.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice still filled with awe. You can tell he has tears in his eyes. “She's...she's my daughter.”
A heavy feeling enters your chest, but it's not necessarily a sad one. “I can't wait to see her,” you tell him.
“I can't wait for you to see her either,” he says softly, a smile in his voice. “I just know you're going to love Bree.”
“...Bree?” you asks, heart skipping several beats.
He laughs. “Yeah. Bree Madeline Ross.”
You can't help but grin, chest filled with so much happiness you might just burst with joy.
-p*p-
She's absolutely gorgeous.
You're almost afraid to hold her, terrified that you'll drop her or something. But when Ryan puts her in your arms, you manage to hold on. It's incredible. Her tiny face is so pretty and delicate. You're sure you've never seen a more beautiful baby. This kid should get into modeling.
“Ryan,” you whisper, amazed.
“I know,” he whispers back, walking towards you and his daughter. He carefully wraps his arms around both of you, a grin on his face.
You look up and smile, feeling content and worry free. This baby won't tear you and Ryan apart. You're already amazed by her. Ryan leans down to place a soft kiss on her forehead before kissing your lips. Things are going to be ok.
“I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you, too.”
You look down at the little bundle in your arms and feel your heart melt.
-p*p-
“Hello?”
“Come outside,” Ryan's excited voice tells you through the phone.
You instantly grin. “What?”
“Just come outside!”
“Ok, ok, I'm on my way,” you tell him before hanging up and heading towards the door. Once you're outside, your mouth drops open.
Ryan's leaning against a car you've never seen before, a large grin on his face.
“What's this?” you ask once you're only a few feet away.
He nods towards the car. “What, this?”
“Yes, that. Did you get a new car?”
“No, actually,” his grin widens, “this is for you.”
You stare at him for a second before asking again, “What?”
He laughs. “It's an early birthday present.”
“This is too much, Ross! I can't accept a car-”
His arms wrap around you, and he pulls you in for a kiss. “Just tell me you love it,” he mumbles against your lips.
You laugh. “Yeah, ok, I love it.”
“Knew it,” he says before he pecks your lips. “Oh and this isn't even all of it. How do you feel about going out of town this weekend for your birthday? Just you and me?”
Your chest feels like it's going to explode from all the happiness. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious!”
You know your relationship isn't exactly normal, but you absolutely love this man.
-p*p-
You don't know how time has managed to go by so quickly, but suddenly it's Thanksgiving and you're standing outside of Ryan's house. You bite your lip and take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Hopefully this won't be a disaster.
It was more than a little touching when Ryan asked you to come over for Thanksgiving. You didn't even tell him that your mother called last week to let you know that you're not invited until you stop being a home wrecker. It hurt, but you don't need them. You have Ryan.
The door opens to reveal Ryan's grinning face. Loud laughter comes from somewhere inside the house, and he says, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
He nods. “Oh yeah. I'm pretty much dying here.”
You laugh. “Well it's a good thing I came to save you then.”
Dinner's rather nice, even though that Lizzy chick kept trying to flirt with you. Oddly enough, it's not as awkward as you were sure it was going to be. Ryan's wife is mostly preoccupied with making sure everything goes smoothly, so you don't even see her that much. There's a big part of you that misses your family, but you instantly push those thoughts away.
As everyone is slowly walking towards the living room, you suddenly feel a hand wrap around your wrist. Ryan gives you a sneaky smile as he pulls you away from the group and heads towards the front door.
Once you step outside, you ask, “What're you doing?”
He laughs. “Like you don't know.”
Soon enough you're against the side of his house, Ryan's body deliciously pressed against you. He smiles and you can't help but smile yourself. He starts kissing you, and you feel like you could melt. This is wrong-you know it is-but you can't stop yourself.
Ryan starts kissing your jaw, slowly trailing down to your neck. Your knees feel a little weak. You're trying to stifle the loud moans that want to come out of your mouth, but you're not sure how successful you are.
“Ross,” you moan weakly, “your family's inside.”
He pulls back and looks straight into your eyes, making your insides squirm with want. “Couldn't resist,” he whispers before kissing your again.
Your mind shuts down and all you can feel is pure desire as Ryan's hand slips under your shirt. You can hear him make this little whimpering noises that are really not helping the problem that's starting to grow in your pants.
You swear you hear a door shut somewhere, but you're too far gone to give it much thought.
-p*p-
“You're just the cutest little thing, aren't you?” you coo at your favorite girl in the world.
Bree giggles, the sound making you light up.
Ryan is banging around your kitchen as he fixes lunch, but you barely even notice as you continue playing with Bree in your arms. She is so big now! You can hardly believe it. She's the spitting image of her father, and you're sure you've never seen a prettier baby.
“Can you say Bren-don?” you ask her. “Bren-don?”
“Brennon,” she repeats, making you smile.
“That's right. Bren-don.”
“Brennon!”
You rub your nose against her, and she giggles. You can't help but chuckle as well. You love her so much. She might as well be your baby too.
“Aw,” you suddenly hear Ryan coo. You turn to see him leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “That was so adorable.”
You blush a little, but that grin is still on your face.
Bree and Ryan come over every Sunday without fail. You can't quite remember when it started but you can't image spending a Sunday in any other way. You absolutely adore Bree, and she seems quite fond of you as well. She's so smart and beautiful and amazing.
Most Sundays are spent lazing around your apartment, and in a way it's kind of like seeing what it would be like if you, Ryan, and Bree were a family. Ryan always comes early enough for the three of you to have breakfast together, and he doesn't leave until late in the evening. Each Sunday that goes by you start to think that maybe...maybe you should take Ryan up on that offer to divorce his wife.
You're not sure why you keep insisting he stay with her. There's just a part of you that feels horribly guilty for what you're doing. Of course, it's not really fair for Ryan to stay with her when he loves you. Plus, there's also Bree to think about. You just don't want to be the one to break up a marriage. That would be like proving your family right. Then again, helping Ryan cheat isn't exactly much better.
“Come on, let's have dinner,” Ryan says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You lift Bree onto your hip and head towards the kitchen.
-p*p-
You're not sure what to think when you opened the door and see your mother.
There's a moment of awkward silence before she asks, “Can I come in?”
You hesitate before nodding and moving aside to let her enter your messy apartment. She looks around for a second, as if it's the first time she's seen your place, before taking a seat on the couch. You walk a little towards her but don't sit down. You feel nervous and angry and maybe a little hopeful. You're not really sure what she's doing here.
As if reading your thoughts, she says, “I just came to talk.” She looks down at her lap. “I miss you.”
Your chest swells, but you can't forgive that easily. “You're the one that didn't want to see me.”
She sighs. “Brendon, I just...No one can understand what you're doing. We all accepted that you were gay. We stood by you. But a married man? With a child?”
“I know it seems really bad,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. “But Ryan is...I love him. And I love his daughter, too.”
“Do you know what you're doing to his poor wife?” his mother asks in that tone she used when he was a kid that never failed to make his insides squirm with guilt. “If she ever found out about what you're doing, do you know how much that would break her heart?”
You sit down on the couch opposite of her and sigh. “I know. I know what I'm doing is horrible, but-”
“There are no buts in this, Brendon. If you know this is wrong, why are you still doing it?”
“Because I love him,” you reply, sounding a little pathetic.
“That's not a very good excuse.”
“I know.”
“What about his child? You said you loved his daughter. Don't you want her to grow up in a stable environment? Doesn't she deserve that?”
You nod. Bree deserves that and more. She deserves to always be happy, and how can she be when you're ruining her home? If you continue doing this, she'll eventually figure out that you're the cause of her broken home. The thought makes you feel sick.
“We all miss you, Bren,” your mother says warmly. She stands up and moves to sit next to you. She pulls you into a hug and says softly, “You know the right thing to do.”
You swallow, trying to make the knot in your throat go away. You don't want to start sobbing in front of your mother, but your heart feels broken already.
You know exactly what you have to do.
-p*p-
It's Sunday, and Ryan isn't here.
It's only been a week, and already you feel lost. You miss Ryan. You miss Bree. You miss seeing him everyday. You miss hearing Bree's laugh. But you did the right thing.
Right?
You don't know anymore. Everything feels too confusing, too hurtful, too dysfunctional.
The only positive thing that's come out of this is that you finally found a use for your music degree. Your friend Shane opened a music store and hired you to give people lessons. The pay is pretty good, and it keeps you busy enough that you don't drive yourself insane thinking about Ryan.
But when you get home, your stomach instantly sinks, and you feel like crying. You can't help but hear Ryan's desperate voice as he begs you to reconsider.
“No, Brendon, baby, don't do this.”
But you did the right thing.
You did do the right thing, didn't you?
-p*p-
It's been four weeks. It's been four weeks since you told Ryan you couldn't do this. It's been four weeks since your family has once again gotten in touch with you. It's been four weeks of you feeling like shit every waking moment. It's been four weeks, and you can't do this anymore.
You've made up your mind.
You know you're risking losing your family again, but you can't handle losing Ryan and Bree. They're your own family. Yes, what you're going to do to Ryan's wife is horrible, but you're just going to be selfish. You need Ryan.
You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.
Ryan's wife answers the door, face instantly hardening when she sees you.
“Hi,” you greet her, trying to smile. You're pretty much about to ruin her world. “I need to talk to Ryan.”
Suddenly, before she can say anything, Ryan is standing behind her, eyes wide. “Bren.”
Your heart starts racing just looking at him, and you want to kiss him and hold him and never ever let go. Ryan's wife turns and leaves abruptly, leaving you both alone. Ryan steps outside, closing the door behind him.
Suddenly your mouth feels dry, and you have no clue what you should say. Ryan is staring at you as if you're about to disappear again, and you can't think. You just want to kiss him, consequences be damned.
Instead you say, “Hi.”
Ryan takes a cautious step towards you. “Hi.”
“So...so I've been pretty miserable,” you tell the ground.
Ryan gently tilts your head up so that your eyes are looking right into his. “Brendon,” he whispers before his lips are on yours.
You kiss him back, heart melting uselessly in your chest. You arms wrap tightly around him, and you're right in front of his house where anyone could see. But you don't care. You don't care. The only thing that's important right now is Ryan's lips on yours and that feeling of happiness that's finally returning to your body after all of this time.
You finally feel like you can breath again.
-p*p-
“Hey, little princess,” you say softly as you pick Bree up from her crib.
Bree instantly stops crying and wraps her tiny arms around your neck. You can't help but smile and kiss her head. You walk out of her room and head towards the kitchen where Ryan is making lunch.
Ryan smiles when he sees you.
You put Bree in her highchair and start getting out the dishes. The shiny gold ring on your left hand catches the light as you reach for the forks, and you can't help but be a little amazed by the fact that you're actually married.
The divorce went by pretty fast. Ryan was awarded joint custody, and so far, things have been pretty good. Ryan's ex-wife started her own business which instantly became a success, and even got married again to a man that seems to adore her. You're very happy for her, especially since now whenever she drops Bree off, she doesn't give you death glares anymore.
Bree starts singing her own made-up song, and you can't wait to start giving her some music lessons. You just know she's bursting with talent; you can tell. And you're actually quite a great music teacher, according to the many people you give lessons to.
After you finish setting the table, you go to your husband and wrap your arms around his waist. He grins and kisses your lips. Everything seems pretty perfect at the moment.
You couldn't be happier.
-p*p-
Everything turned out alright in the end.
---
I hope you guys liked it! The ending is a bit cliche, but I promised my friend Alisha a happy ending
UPDATE!
Ryan's POV When True Love is Found