The Things He Withheld

After I started dating Ryan Kellogg, I gave up the little rituals I had loved for twenty years. No birthday cakes. No fireworks on New Year's Eve. No more searching for the restaurant with the prettiest view on our anniversary. Ryan always said real life didn't need all that decorative nonsense. He only agreed to a modest engagement dinner because I insisted. But when he arrived that evening, he was wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Our friends and relatives looked at him with new respect. I was thrilled, convinced he was finally learning to meet me halfway. Then, on the drive home, I happened to see a post from Sophie Bennett, the younger graduate Ryan had been mentoring. In the photo, she stood beside him outside Bellhaven State University, wearing the heirloom brooch his late mother had meant for his future wife. Her caption read: My mentor said he never expected the first time he'd wear a full suit would be for my graduation. I scrolled farther. Ryan had sent Sophie flowers and a cake for her birthday. He'd even helped celebrate the adoption anniversary of her dog. I touched the empty place above my heart and felt something inside me turn cold. His romance was a privilege reserved for Sophie. Our engagement dinner had merely fit into his schedule. As we entered our apartment complex, Ryan tapped the steering wheel. "Han, I gave you the engagement dinner you wanted. Let's just do the courthouse ceremony next week and skip the wedding." I put away my phone and smiled. "All right." He was right about one thing. There was no reason for us to get married. Chapter 1 Ryan Kellogg unfastened his seat belt, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Han, you've become so reasonable lately. You finally know how to look at the bigger picture." My phone vibrated twice. I ignored him and looked down at the final bill from the restaurant. Ryan hated dealing with details like that, so I'd always handled our household accounts. I'd just paid the balance when I heard the chime of another successful payment. When I turned, Ryan had fastened his seat belt again. His phone lay beside him with his conversation with Sophie Bennett still open. "Where are you celebrating? Send me the address." "I ordered a three-tier cake. I put your name on the card, so everyone will think it's your graduation gift to the group." The screenshot showed a $688 payment to a bakery. Sophie replied with obvious delight. "Ryan, that's so thoughtful! I get to take all the credit, then." He sent back a sticker of someone patting a puppy on the head. I recognized the dog from Sophie's posts. It was the puppy she'd adopted. "You just graduated, so you've still got a lot to learn about people. I'll teach you over time." "I'm on my way. Don't drink until I get there." As he started the car again, another message from Sophie appeared. "Ryan, what would I ever do without you?" Ryan glanced down, and his eyes softened. His smile held the indulgent helplessness of someone who could never say no to her. Then he spoke as if nothing had happened. "Han, go upstairs. Something came up, and I need to head out." I looked up and met his impatient gaze. He knew I'd seen everything. So what if I had? I'd argued with him before, and I'd never won. On my birthday, I received one brief text. Yet every month, he found a reason to celebrate some new milestone with Sophie. He said my birthday came every year, while Sophie had moved away for school and needed someone to look after her. When I wanted a dog, he wrinkled his nose and said animals were dirty. When Sophie casually mentioned liking puppies, he spent two weeks visiting adoption centers with her. He said he didn't want her to feel lonely in an off-campus apartment. He always had a reason. Even if I confronted him now, what would I ask? You rejected a cake for our engagement dinner because you said nobody would eat it and it would be a waste. So why did you buy Sophie a graduation cake and let her take credit for it? Ryan would probably frown and answer the way he always did. "Hannah, Sophie's graduation is important. Don't compare two completely different things." I stepped out without a word. He drove away before I had both feet steady on the pavement. Chapter 2 When I got home, I looked around the sparsely decorated apartment that was supposed to become our marital home. Ryan had rejected my design plans. He said simplicity made a place feel lived in. We were weeks from marriage, yet he wouldn't even let me hang a small wedding sign on the wall. He called the matching throw pillows I'd ordered sentimental nonsense. After my shower, I saw a new video on Sophie's social feed. Ryan stood beside the three-tier cake while servers brought out elaborate dishes and expensive wine. "Thank you for taking such good care of Sophie. Everything tonight is on me. Congratulations to all the graduates!" The room erupted in cheers. Ryan applauded with them, then turned toward the camera with a gentle smile. Someone nearby murmured in amazement. "Sophie, your mentor is ridiculously romantic. This looks like a scene from a movie." Off camera, Sophie laughed. "Ryan's always been like this." I let out a long breath. For her, he'd always been like this. I opened my conversation with the stationer and typed an apology. "The wedding's canceled. I won't need the invitations." I'd insisted on placing an old family wedding blessing on the front. Ryan had called it cluttered and old-fashioned until I let him remove every word. Perhaps he'd been right. "Two candles, one table. Two promises, one home." We were never going to share that home. The five years in which I'd set myself aside for him ended there. The next morning, I woke to the smell of something cooking. I followed it to the kitchen and found Ryan sliding fried eggs between slices of toast. A bowl of washed blueberries sat beside him. I froze. When we first met, I used to make myself a sandwich and a small serving of fruit every morning. Ryan said the effort was pointless when I could sleep ten minutes longer and buy something on the way to work. Eventually, I learned to eat whatever was convenient. So why was he cooking now? "Ryan, that smells amazing!" The guest-room door opened, and Sophie hurried out with a bright laugh. When she saw me, she launched into the story of the previous night. "Hannah, you missed everything. "The cake Ryan sent was enormous. We couldn't finish it, and he ordered the best food and wine. I drank way too much." Ryan came out carrying two plates. He laughed when she stretched her arms into an exaggerated circle. "It wasn't that big. Sit down and eat." Sophie immediately took a huge bite of her sandwich. "Wow. You can actually cook." She grinned. "My mother always said I was impossible because I insist on sandwiches and blueberries for breakfast. She said nobody would spoil me once I grew up. Clearly she was wrong." Ryan smiled without answering and pulled out the chair across from her. I was still standing in the kitchen doorway. They ate buttery sandwiches and traded memories from her graduation party. Once, this had been my picture of marriage. I'd imagined my husband and me in comfortable clothes, one of us cooking while the other helped. We'd sit across from each other, talking over breakfast. Ryan had dismissed all of that as unnecessary fuss. If I hadn't seen it myself, I might still have believed he simply didn't understand romance. The doorbell rang. As I turned toward it, Sophie lowered her voice. "Ryan, did I take Hannah's breakfast?" He answered softly. "It's fine. She never cares what she eats in the morning." I pressed my lips together and opened the door to find Rachel Moore, my friend who owned a dress boutique. I'd forgotten to tell her the wedding was off. "Hannah! I finished the reception dress in the simpler version you requested. Come see what you think." I opened my mouth, but Ryan walked up behind me. "Han, didn't we agree the wedding was canceled?" Rachel looked from him to Sophie at the breakfast table. I lowered my eyes and forced down the ache in my chest. "I'm sorry. Please cancel and return everything." Chapter 3 Satisfaction curved Ryan's mouth. "Good. You could never wear a dress like that again. Making it would only waste money." He reached for my shoulder. I stepped aside without comment, changed clothes, and walked Rachel to the elevator myself. Before the doors closed, Ryan pushed a straw into a carton of oat milk and handed it to Sophie. "You can't handle dairy. Drink this instead." I was lactose intolerant too. It was the first time he'd ever bought oat milk, and he'd bought it for someone else. "Hannah, is that girl your friend? "I don't mean to interfere, but Ryan brought Sophie to my store two days ago and bought more than thirty outfits. Some were casual, some formal. He said it didn't matter that she couldn't wear most of them to graduation. "So why'd he call your reception dress a waste? Once you remove the wedding label, it's just a red evening dress." Rachel held the dress with open disbelief. I remembered the graduation robe Sophie had worn beside Ryan in her posts. She'd been required to wear that robe, yet Ryan had still been happy to buy thirty other outfits for later. I said nothing and transferred payment to Rachel. "No. You canceled the order. I can't take your money." "Your time still cost something. Besides, I need you to help me with one thing." I didn't go back upstairs. I went straight to work. When I returned that evening, Sophie was gone and Ryan was showering. I packed my belongings in the bedroom. As I rolled the suitcase into the study, Ryan appeared in the doorway, rubbing a towel over his hair. "I've barely slept these past few days. I spent today helping Sophie find a new apartment. "I'm going to bed. You should turn in early too." He entered the main bedroom, then looked back in surprise. "Han, did you wash the wedding quilt and linens?" I nodded. His brows drew together in disapproval. "You're not planning to put that old red wedding set on the bed, are you?" "It looks dated. I'm not sleeping in it." He backed out, yawned, and headed into the guest room. "Sleep in it yourself if you like it. I'll stay in here until you change everything back." The door closed. The guest room was red too. It was simply the warm tomato red Sophie liked. For the last six months, Ryan had brought her home constantly while helping with her graduate thesis. He'd personally taken her shopping and chosen the bedding she preferred. Tacky or attractive. Comfortable or impossible to sleep in. He didn't have a fixed standard for any of it. He merely had one standard for Sophie and another for me. I packed through the entire night. At dawn, the quilt and linens were dry. I folded them carefully and placed them in my suitcase. Then I went into the living room and took an old photograph from the drawer. It showed my mother standing beside Ryan's. They'd been close friends and coworkers before they died in the Harrow Mill fire. Before my mother died, she told me she'd sewn the quilt by hand as a wedding gift. Ryan's mother had left him a brooch and asked him to give it to his future wife. Ryan and I had met at their joint memorial service. Whenever we spoke of our mothers afterward, grief had always brought us closer. He once promised to pin that brooch onto my dress at our wedding. Now the wedding was canceled, and the brooch belonged to someone else. The guest-room door suddenly opened. Ryan stepped out rubbing his eyes, his voice flat. "Why didn't you wake me? I'm helping Sophie move today." A crushing weight settled over my chest. I hadn't intended to ask, but I couldn't stop myself. "Why did you give Sophie the brooch?" His fingers paused, and he frowned. "Why shouldn't she wear it? She needed something for her graduation photos, and it looked good on her." "Your mother left that for-" "Hannah, when did you become so superstitious and old-fashioned?" His scolding tone pinned me in place. "It's one brooch. It would only collect dust in a box, so I gave it to someone who could use it. "And can't you stop turning everything into a ceremony? Life moves forward. Isn't it exhausting to keep clinging to objects and old promises?" Chapter 4 He turned away to get dressed. His brows stayed knotted, and every word carried resentment. "You may not be tired of it, but I am." It was as though he'd been holding back for years, and now everything burst out. "And the engagement dinner. Didn't I tell you I only wanted to eat and leave? Why did your father make me thank everyone for coming? Why did we need group pictures? "I've never been that embarrassed in my life." Ryan slammed the door behind him. I held the framed photograph against my chest. The cold glass pressed through my shirt like an edge against my heart. Over five years with Ryan, I'd abandoned the rituals I'd cherished since childhood. In the end, he considered me a burden. There wasn't much left to pack. I finished within two hours. When I opened my social feed again, Sophie was eagerly documenting her day with Ryan. Ryan can build a whole bookcase by himself. Look at my amazing mentor. Ryan bought me two vases of flowers because a new apartment needs color. And look at his beautiful handwriting. Through her posts, I saw a version of Ryan I'd never known. He hung a dust cover over the bookcase and placed one vase on the dining table and the other beside the entryway. He also hung a small chalkboard on her door and wrote, "Sophie's new home. Good things ahead," with a smiling face beside it. I lowered my phone and looked around our plain, nearly empty living room. While I was still scrolling, Ryan came home. He didn't look at me. He went straight into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he emerged in a white T-shirt under a casual blazer. I stared. "Is something important happening?" Only then did he notice me on the couch. "Sophie's parents are flying in. I need to pick them up." I stood. "Ryan, I need to tell you something." He was already in a hurry. He changed into dress shoes, opened the door, and called back. "Tell me when I get home." He arrived and disappeared just as quickly. Not long afterward, Sophie posted again. Ryan was driving. Her parents sat in the back beside her dog, Milo, who wore a blue sweater. Ryan dressed up just to pick up my parents. Even Milo got a new outfit. I'm starting to feel jealous. Ryan replied beneath it. "How many outfits have I bought you? Still not enough? "Fine. I'll take you shopping again tomorrow." I let out a bitter laugh. He'd forgotten again. Today was my birthday. Tomorrow was our courthouse appointment. The first time he met my father, he'd shown up in shorts and an old T-shirt. I defended him by saying he didn't care about appearances. Apparently, he understood perfectly well that meeting someone's parents called for effort. The movers arrived that afternoon. I called Ryan, but he didn't answer. A little later, he sent a message. His earlier anger hadn't faded. "What could possibly require a phone call? This is about the courthouse tomorrow, isn't it?" "Hannah, I've told you repeatedly that I won't wear a suit to sign paperwork. It's ridiculous. Don't wear a veil, and don't bring a photographer. I'm not humiliating myself for some staged courthouse pictures." The movers carried out the final box. I stood in the doorway and almost laughed. "All right." After sending those two words, I climbed into the moving truck. Don't worry, Ryan. I'd never embarrass him again. At that moment, Ryan was raising a glass to Sophie's parents in a private dining room at the Bellrose Hotel. His phone chimed, and he glanced at my reply. "Welcome to Bellhaven. Sophie just graduated, so you'll have plenty of time to explore before she starts work." He smiled politely, then held down the power button on his phone. The thought of the courthouse photo trend online already made his head ache. At last, everything was quiet. He could deal with the rest at the Alder County Courthouse tomorrow.