Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 21: Sharing

April 28

Ana

Ryan doesn't seem to be in the cabin this morning as I begin to prepare breakfast. I wonder if he's out hacking down trees. He seemed really odd last night and wouldn't talk to me. I tried to figure out what I'd done to upset him, but I couldn't think of anything.

I go to the window to look out at the forest. I don't see Ryan anywhere. Strange. I turn around back to the kitchen and jump. Ryan is lying on the couch, an arm and a leg hanging off. Near his hand is a bottle of amber liquid that I've never seen before.

Is that alcohol? What's going on? I never knew Ryan drank. I didn't even know there was any alcohol here. I take a couple of steps closer to the couch.

"Ryan?" I ask, somewhat timidly. Usually, he's awake by now. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever woken up before him.

Ryan doesn't stir. I edge a little closer.

"Ryan?" I say with more conviction. He shifts, rolling toward the edge of the couch he's precariously perched on. I spring forward, but I'm too late. Ryan crashes to the floor with a thump followed by his groan.

I crouch over him. "Are you OK?" I ask.

His eyes blink open then squeeze shut with a grimace. He moves an arm to block out the sunlight streaming in the windows.

"Are you OK?" I repeat.

He moves his arm a little and squints at me. I blink back at him, still mystified by the scene before me. I notice a scent on him that I've never smelled before. It's not a bad smell, just different. He groans again before clumsily pushing himself to his feet. Without a word, he stumbles to the bathroom, one hand at his temple. After a few moments, I hear the shower start running.

Still confused, I pick up the bottle of alcohol off the floor and open the bottle. A quick sniff confirms that Ryan's new aroma is Scotch whiskey. I place the bottle on the coffee table and return to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast. When the food is ready, Ryan's still in the shower. I wander around the cabin, trying to figure out where the alcohol came from. My gaze settles on the mysteriously locked drawer in the desk. Something lying on the surface of the desk snags my eye. Curious, I approach as the water in the bathroom shuts off.

Lying on the desk is a photograph of a brilliant smiling blonde. Her face looks somewhat familiar. As I continue to study the photo, the woman's expression starts to bother me. I feel resentment build up inside of me.Why does this woman's face make me want to hate her?  It's not because she's pretty, though she is stunning. I sit at the desk and pick up the picture, trying to puzzle out what it is about this woman that bugs me so much.

The bathroom door opens and Ryan emerges, his hair a shade darker with the water still in it.

"Who's this?" I ask, turning the picture toward him.

His face turns into a dark scowl. He limps quickly toward me, opting for speed instead of downplaying his labored gait. He snatches the picture out of my hand wordlessly. With a quick, rough tug he pulls the locked drawer open. My mouth falls open as I catch sight of another picture of the woman wearing a cream-colored dress and flashing a large diamond on her left hand. That's not what makes me gasp, though. The man standing next to her in the photo is Ryan - uninjured, movie star handsome Ryan Burke - wearing his military dress uniform.

Ryan slams the drawer shut.

"That's your ex, isn't it?" I ask before thinking it might be wiser to keep my mouth shut. So that's why she looked familiar. It's the pretty crying woman from his funeral broadcast. And that rock on her finger! They were engaged. I'd thought they were just dating. This woman agreed to marry him and then dumped him because of his injuries? Why did Ryan only associate with the scum of the earth in his past life?