I’d always assumed she was dead. Or far away. Or someone he’d made his peace with not knowing.
I was wrong about all three.
We ended up in a small side room off the lobby after all. An old tack room the venue used for storage, with saddles still hanging on the wall for decoration. The five of us. The door closed.
The truth came out slowly. In pieces. From three different people.
Ryan’s mother left when he was seven. His father raised him. For his whole life, Ryan believed she’d just walked away one day and never looked back. Never called. Never wrote. Never came to a birthday.
As the wedding got closer, Ryan started wondering.
Did she know he was getting married? Did she care? Would he regret it for the rest of his life if he never found out why she’d left?
