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The rain pattered gently against the windows of Inked Hearts, casting a soft, steady rhythm that echoed inside the shop. Skye sat at her worktable, a half-finished sketch in front of her, but her mind wasn’t on her art today. Instead, her thoughts kept drifting to Ryder, to everything he had shared with her just days ago. The weight of his past, the guilt he carried, and the fear that still lingered in his eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop wondering how they would move forward now that the truth was out in the open.
In the quiet of the shop, she ran her fingers along the paper, tracing the delicate lines of the design she’d been working on. It was a new piece—something she had been drawing for days now, though she hadn’t quite figured out what it meant. The lines were sharp, the curves bold and fluid, much like the tattoos she’d designed for Ryder. It wasn’t meant for him, but as she stared at it, she realized how much of her thoughts of him had bled into the artwork.
The bell above the door jingled softly, and Skye’s heart leapt into her throat as she looked up to see Ryder standing just inside the doorway. He looked soaked from the rain, his leather jacket glistening with droplets, his dark hair wet and messy. But it was his expression that caught her off guard—tired, worn, but with a kind of raw determination in his eyes that sent a shiver through her.
“Hey,” Skye said softly, setting down her pencil and standing up. “I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
Ryder shook his head, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he took a few steps toward her. “I wasn’t planning to. But... I needed to see you.”
Skye’s heart fluttered at his words, and she stepped toward him, her hand reaching for his arm. “Is everything okay?”
For a moment, Ryder didn’t answer. He just looked at her, his eyes scanning her face like he was trying to memorize every detail. Then, with a heavy sigh, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight, almost desperate embrace. Skye melted against him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she held him close, her cheek pressed against his chest.
“I didn’t sleep last night,” Ryder admitted, his voice low and rough against her ear. “Kept thinking about everything. About us. About... everything I told you.”
Skye’s chest tightened at his words, and she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hand resting against his cheek. “Ryder, you don’t have to keep apologizing for your past. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” he said, his hand coming up to cover hers, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “But I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to keep hiding from it. From you.”
Skye’s breath caught in her throat at the raw vulnerability in his voice, the way his eyes darkened with emotion. She had seen so many sides of Ryder—his strength, his anger, his pain—but this side, the one that was finally willing to face his past, was new. And it made her heart ache with both hope and fear. Hope that they could finally start to heal together, and fear of the unknown, of what it would take to truly move forward.
“What do you need?” she asked softly, her thumb brushing over the scar on his cheek. “What can I do?”
Ryder stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers, and for a brief second, she saw the flicker of doubt that still lingered just beneath the surface. But then, with a slow, deliberate breath, he leaned down and kissed her—a soft, tender kiss that held none of the urgency or desperation of their previous moments together. This kiss was different. It was a promise, a reassurance that they were in this together.
When he pulled back, Ryder rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips as he whispered, “I need to stop running. I need to face it. And I need you with me.”
Skye’s heart pounded in her chest at his words, and she tightened her grip on his jacket, her fingers curling into the damp leather. “You have me, Ryder. I’m not going anywhere. But you have to let me in. You have to let me help.”
Ryder closed his eyes, his jaw clenching as if he was fighting some internal battle. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been running for so long, Skye. I don’t know how to stop.”
Skye’s chest ached at the raw honesty in his words, and she reached up, her hands framing his face as she made him look at her. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Ryder stared at her, his dark eyes filled with something she hadn’t seen before—hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there. And for the first time, Skye realized that Ryder wanted this as much as she did. He wanted to heal, to move forward, but he was scared. Scared of what it would mean to stop running, to finally face the demons that had haunted him for so long.
“Where do we start?” Ryder asked quietly, his hands tightening on her waist.
Skye smiled softly, her thumb brushing over the scar on his cheek as she whispered, “We start by not running.”
Later that evening, they found themselves back at Skye’s apartment, the quiet hum of the city outside filling the spaces between their conversations. They had talked for hours—about Ryder’s past, about the underground fights, about the guilt he carried. Skye had listened, her heart aching for him, but never once had she felt overwhelmed or scared. If anything, the more Ryder shared, the more she realized how much she wanted to be there for him, to help him carry the weight of his past.
Now, they sat on the couch, their legs tangled together, the warmth of their bodies providing a sense of comfort neither of them had known they needed. Ryder’s head rested on her shoulder, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her thigh, and for the first time in weeks, Skye felt a sense of calm settle over them. They had taken a step—maybe not a big one, but a step forward nonetheless.
As they sat in the quiet, Skye couldn’t help but think about her own scars. She had always been so focused on Ryder’s pain, on his past, that she had never really stopped to think about her own. But now, as they sat together in the quiet, she realized that she had her own walls to break down.
“I used to think I had to be tough all the time,” Skye said quietly, her fingers brushing through Ryder’s hair. “That if I let anyone in, they’d see how broken I really was. I thought that if I just kept people at a distance, I wouldn’t have to deal with my own pain.”
Ryder lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes searching hers. “What changed?”
Skye smiled softly, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “You did.”
Ryder’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Skye took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to tell him the truth she had been holding back for so long.
“I’ve always struggled with my body,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been big my whole life, and people don’t let you forget that. I’ve spent years trying to ignore the comments, trying to pretend like they didn’t get to me. But they did. Every time. I started building walls to protect myself, started pushing people away so they wouldn’t get close enough to hurt me.”
Ryder’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know what that’s like.”
“I know you do,” Skye said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “That’s why this... what we have... it scares me. Because I’ve never let anyone get this close before. Not really. Not like this.”
Ryder stared at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with a mix of emotion that made Skye’s chest tighten. “I get it,” he said quietly. “And I know I’ve been pushing you away too. But... I don’t want to do that anymore.”
Skye’s breath caught in her throat at the raw honesty in his voice, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his as she whispered, “Neither do I.”
For a moment, they just sat there, the weight of their shared vulnerability settling over them like a blanket. They had both been carrying so much for so long—too much. But now, in the quiet of the evening, they were starting to let go. Slowly, tentatively, but they were letting go.
“You’ve been through hell, Ryder,” Skye said softly, her hand resting against his chest. “But so have I. And maybe that’s why we work. Maybe that’s why we’re here, together.”
Ryder’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “Maybe,” he whispered, his voice filled with a kind of quiet hope that made Skye’s heart swell.
They stayed like that for a while, the weight of their pasts heavy but not unbearable, the future uncertain but not terrifying. For the first time, Skye felt like they had a chance—a real chance—to move forward. Together.
The next morning, the rain had cleared, leaving the city washed in a soft, golden light. Skye and Ryder sat at her small kitchen table, the remnants of breakfast between them as they sipped their coffee in comfortable silence. There was no rush, no urgency, just the quiet contentment of being in each other’s presence.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ryder said after a while, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.
Skye raised an eyebrow, her mug halfway to her lips. “About?”
“About what’s next,” Ryder said, his dark eyes meeting hers. “About... us. And about how I can start making things right.”
Skye set her mug down, her heart skipping a beat at his words. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t keep living in the shadows,” Ryder said quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee mug. “I’ve been running from my past for so long, but I can’t do that anymore. Not if I want a future with you.”
Skye’s chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in his voice, and she reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “You don’t have to do this alone, Ryder. Whatever you need to do, I’m here.”
Ryder stared at her for a long moment, his gaze filled with something she hadn’t seen before—determination. “I need to make amends,” he said quietly. “I need to find a way to make peace with what happened in the underground. I don’t know how yet, but I need to try.”
Skye’s heart ached at the weight of his words, but she understood. Ryder had been carrying his guilt for so long, and if they were going to have a future together, he needed to face it. He needed to find closure, to heal the scars that had been festering inside him for years.
“I’ll help you,” Skye said softly, her fingers tightening around his. “Whatever it takes, I’ll be there with you.”
Ryder’s eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, Skye saw a flicker of hope in his gaze—a small, fragile hope, but it was there. And she knew that they had taken another step forward. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there would be more challenges ahead, but they were finally starting to heal. Together.
As they sat there, their hands intertwined, Skye felt a sense of calm settle over her. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so terrifying. It felt like something they could face. Together.
And for the first time in her life, Skye believed that maybe—just maybe—she could have everything she had ever wanted.
