I pull into my driveway, the past twenty-four hours a blur. I should have called in sick to work as it wasn’t fair to the boys to have a guardian around who’s so wrapped up in their own head they weren’t really present.

I’ve relived the moment so many times that I can’t think about it anymore. I didn’t expect Colton to confess his undying love for me in return, but I also didn’t think he’d act as if the words were never spoken. I’m hurt and feeling the sting of rejection and am uncertain where to go from here. I took an important moment between us and fucked it up. What to do now? I’m not sure.

I trudge in the house, drop my bag rather unceremoniously on the floor by the front door, and collapse on the couch. And that is where Haddie finds me hours later when she walks through the door.

“What’d he do to you, Rylee?” Her demand rouses me from sleep. Her hands are on her hips as she stands over me, and her eyes search mine for an answer.

“Oh, Haddie, I screwed up royally,” I sigh as I let the tears that I’d been holding back flow. She sits down on the coffee table in front of me, hand on my knee in support, and I relay everything to her.

When I finish she just shakes her head and looks at me with eyes full of compassion and empathy. “Well, sweetie, if anything’s screwy, it’s definitely not you!” she says. “All I can say is that you need to give him a little time. You probably scared the shit out of Mr. Free-Wheelin’-Bachelor to death. Love. Commitment. All that shit...” she waves her hand through the air “...is a big step for someone like him.”

“I know.” I hiccup through my tears. “I just didn’t expect him to be so cold…so nonchalant about it. I think that’s what hurts the most.”

“Oh, Ry.” She leans in and hugs me tightly. “I’ll call in sick to the event tonight so you’re not alone.”

“No don’t,” I tell her. “I’m fine. I’ll probably just eat a gallon of ice cream and go to sleep anyway. Go...” I shoo her away with my hands “...I’ll be fine. I promise.”

She just stares at me for a moment, debating whether I’m lying or not. “Okay,” she says, taking a deep breath, “but just remember something…you’re awesome, Rylee. If he doesn’t see that...if he doesn’t see everything you have to offer in and out of the sack...then fuck him and the horse he rode in on.”

I give her a slight smile. Leave it to Haddie to put it eloquently.

The next morning passes without hearing from him. I decide to text him.

Hi, Ace. Call me when you have a chance. We need to talk. XO.

My phone remains silent for most of the day despite how many times I’ve looked at it and checked to see if I have good service. As the day drags on, my unease settles in, and I start to realize that I’ve probably done irrevocable damage.

Finally at three o’clock I receive a response. My hopes soar at the prospect of having contact with him.

Busy all day in meetings. Catch you later.

And then my hopes take a nosedive.

On the third day post the I-love-you disastrous confession, I get up the nerve to call his office on my way in to the office. “CD Enterprises, can I help you?”

“Colton Donavan please,” I answer, my knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

“May I ask who’s calling please?”

“Rylee Thomas.” My voice cracks.

“Hi, Ms. Thomas, let me check. Just a moment please.”