The silence stretches on, going stale with all the things they aren’t saying.
“You must be Mrs. Woods,” I interject softly. “I’m Felicity Wilde, Ryder’s…”Ex-girlfriend? Rekindled flame? Soon-to-be sex slave?“—singing partner,” I finish lamely.
Her eyes flicker to mine, full of warmth. “Well, of course you are. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” Her eyes drift back to her son. “I’ve followed your career, these past few years. Kept track of what you were doing, as best I could.”
Ryder tenses. “Why?”
“Why?” Her voice is sad. So, so sad. “You’re my son, Ryder. I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished.”
His throat convulses. “Dad made it pretty clear, when he threw me out, that neither of you had any interest in seeing me again.”
“He regrets that moment, more than you know. I wish you understood how much he wants to make things right.”
“Then where is he? Why not come here and tell me that himself?”
“Your father…” She shakes her head. “You know what he’s like. He’s stubborn and set in his ways. You got that from him, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, well, I hope that’s the only thing I inherited.” His voice holds notes of bitterness.
Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry for not trying harder. I’m sorry we pushed our dreams onto you, instead of embracing the ones you wanted to chase for yourself. I’m sorry about all of it.”
I can feel the emotional battle being waged inside Ryder. How his heart craves reconciliation. How his mind prescribes caution.
Giving his hand one last sharp squeeze, I detangle my fingers from his. He looks over at me, brows raised. I try to broadcast my thoughts in my eyes as best I can.
Forgiveness doesn’t make you weak, Ryder.
It makes you strong.
I’m not sure he gets the message, but whatever he reads on my face is enough to steel him. With a determined set to his shoulders, he turns back to his mother.
“Mom…”
She’s looking up at him, hope etched on her expression, as he steps forward and pulls her into a tight embrace. She doesn’t say anything, so far as I can hear. But her shoulders shake as she buries her head against his chest, muffling her sobs against his shirt. His big hands stroke her hair.
My throat feels suddenly tight.
Ryder Woods is a good man.
I walk to the other side of the room to give them some privacy, beelining to Carly’s side and avoiding Francesca like my life depends on it. The auburn-haired record exec is talking Linc and Aiden’s ears off, over by the door. Probably about analytical data or sales figures, judging by the tortured looks on their faces.
“Is that his mom?” Carly whispers, her eyes sliding to Ryder.
I nod.
“Didn’t she cut him off a few years ago?”
I nod again.
“And he forgave her…” She whistles lowly, bumping her elbow against mine. “He’s a good one, you know.”
“I know.”
“I’m really happy for you.” She pauses. “Happy you two are finally giving it a shot.”
“Me too.”
“That song he wrote for you… those things he said about you…” She whistles again. “God, Felicity. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d kind of hate you right now.”