A/N: I'm sure you've been reading Shar's (whitelilly) wonderful fics; This Broken Road, Show Me What True Love Is and The Memory Will Never Die, so you'll probably know that she and I are working on a new fic together called The Way Around Love. Hopefully we'll be posting it soon. Keep a look out!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 10 – Something To Tell

"Are you sure? Did you need to talk?" He sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm sure. It wasn't anything important."

It didn't register that Ryan had sounded concerned, that maybe she didn't sound normal on the phone.

All that she could think was that she needed to be with Ryan and he wasn't there.

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She needed to get out, to get away from the suffocating silence of the apartment.

And she needed alcohol, lots and lots of alcohol.

Taylor wanted to stop thinking and forget about everything for just a little while. She wanted her brain to shut down and she wanted feel numb for any other reason than the one she was feeling now.

Her body and mind were at contradictions, her body felt heavy and useless, unable to move from lying curled up on the bed, as if all the energy had seeped out of her, but her mind was racing with more thoughts then she'd like. If only she could get the two to work together, for her brain to stop thinking of anything other then 'get up and get out' and for her body to actually listen.

Her thoughts ran in circles, beginning from just over a week ago, until now. Had it really only been a week and a handful of days? The girl that she thought back to, getting ready for that party, felt so removed from the girl she was now. She was no longer in her happy bubble; she was no longer floating along in it. She still felt as though she was floating, but suspended by delicate strings that could be severed at any moment.

She felt like she was waiting for the drop.

How could a week change things so much, yet not at all?

Taylor pulled herself out of bed and looked in the mirror. She reached for her brush and ran it through her bed hair; her eyes were heavy and glistened with unshed tears. She hadn't cried, she wasn't a crier, and if she had, the sporadic pangs of guilt she had been feeling would have been larger, more persistent.

She felt it, the guilt, every time she thought about Ryan not being there and her mind took the path of resentment. She needed him to be there with her, to listen and comfort her, and the thoughts of resentment branched from there. He wasn't there, he was with her and their son, and then the guilt would dart into her thoughts.

She knew she shouldn't begrudge Ryan every chance he had to get to know his son, but that feeling she had of being left behind, though she had stamped it down at Ryan's promise to not shut her out, kept resurfacing. Like the devil on her shoulder, whispering in her ear, arguing irrationally but convincingly with all reason. Fuelling the doubt.

Taylor buttoned up her jeans and pulled on her top, checking her reapplied make-up once again. She picked up her cell, the other person answered on the second ring.

"We're going out." Was all that was needed to be said.

Taylor wasn't naive; if it only took a week for her to feel like this she could see where it was all headed if it continued the way it was. The question was, how long would she hold on?

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Theresa smiled as Dominic held out her chair.

He had brought her to a new sushi restaurant and bar and for a weeknight the place was packed. The tables were filled with couples and groups but it was nothing like the pizza restaurant she went to with Ryan. Everyone here was young and sophisticated, mingling at the bar; there were no children, no families. The lighting was low and the décor was all wood and chrome. Minimal. It was these kinds of places that Dominic liked.

Dominic reached for her hand over the table, the one that had been worrying the stem of her wine glass.

"Hey, why the nerves?" He asked, his easy smile crinkling the corner of his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Well short of wringing your hands together, you've been acting pretty nervous. It's not me is it?" He teased.

"No," she smiled, "but I have something to tell you."

"Sounds interesting. Would it have something to do with Ry?"

Theresa nodded her head and looked to where their hands were joined. "When I told you that Ry's father was out of the picture, that he wasn't coming back, that was true. Except it wasn't really his choice."

Theresa paused to see if Dominic would say something, he didn't so she carried on.

"Ry's father didn't know about him. He didn't abandon us or anything, he just… didn't know." She thought it was best if she left out the bit where she had lied, she didn't want to have to go through justifying her actions all over again, so she kept it simple. "I thought that I could bring Ry up by myself and never have to tell him, the father, I mean. He was living his own life and I had mine. I didn't think I'd ever see him again, didn't think he'd ever have to find out." Theresa realised that still didn't sound any better. "You must think I'm a horrible person."

"What? No." Dominic shook his head slightly and squeezed her hand. "Of course not, he left and you decided to do what was best, for you and your son."

Dominic was always so understanding and kind; she felt guilty for not telling him everything but it was nice to feel like she had someone on her side, some support.

"Yeah," she replied vaguely. "But it doesn't seem like it was an all that great a decision now."

"What do you mean?"

"When we were in Newport, the night we were having dinner and I told you to go on home without me?"

Dominic nodded. He had been waiting for Theresa to come back after she had gone after Ryan as he chased after his damn frog (Dominic hated animals), he had waited on his own for sometime before deciding to go in search of them. He had met Theresa halfway as she had come back in, she told him to go on to his beach condo on his own (it was where they were meant to be spending the weekend in Newport). Theresa hadn't really given him a full explanation as to why she wasn't coming and he hadn't pushed for a reason.

"Well, we crossed paths that night for the first time in nine years and with Ryan with me, well…he found out."

"That's why you didn't come to the condo." When she had told him to go on without her, he knew that she wasn't going to have come.

"Yes." They had driven down separately, and instead of going to Dominic's, Theresa had just driven home, Ry asleep in the back and Wort in his cage.

"So, this guy…Ryan's father, I'm guessing he was the guy at your apartment?"

"Yes, Ryan Atwood is Ryan's father." It felt good to say it, to tell someone. Other than her mother, no else in her life knew, she had never let those words pass from her lips so directly before.

"But Ry doesn't know that yet, does he?" Dominic remembered the way Theresa had introduced Ryan as just a friend, the way her eyes had been pleading not to make too much about it. At the time he thought she was silently asking him not to be jealous or anything, now he realised she hadn't wanted him to ask questions about Ryan in front of Ry.

"No, he thinks he's just a friend."

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"That's it, I give up!"

"I thought you said you played? I beat you every time!"

"That's 'cause you're just too good for me." Ryan grinned a little at Ry and ruffled his hair. They had been playing for just over an hour and each time Ryan had pretended to be bad at the game and let Ry win, but then the one time he actually tried to win Ry still beat him, he obviously was as good as he thought.

Ryan had found himself able to relax with Ry and let himself go in a way that he really hadn't before with anybody. He had joined in with Ry's excited shouts at the television, telling his car to go faster, teasing Ry that he was going to win; he made the exaggerated movements of a steering wheel when they had done a crazy lap.

He had let his inner child out to play with his son and acted carefree and frivolous.

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"When are you going to tell him? I'm sure Ryan wants to fully be apart of Ry's life now." Dominic lifted his wine glass and took a sip.

Theresa wondered if he meant more by his question than what it was at face value, then she decided that she was reading too much into it.

"He does, he wants Ry to know that he's his father, but he's agreed to wait until the time that I think is best."

"And what about you?"

"What do you mean?" Theresa asked, confused.

"I mean, what does he want from you?"

"N… nothing. Just for me to let him be a part of Ry's life, I guess."

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"Did you win all these, Ry?" Ryan asked as he looked at some small trophies proudly displayed on the shelves in the alcoves.

"Yeah, they're for the soccer team I'm on in school."

"I like soccer."

"I've got a game in two weeks, I wanna go to the park and practice more but Mom doesn't like being in goal."

Ryan laughed at the image of Theresa diving to stop the ball. He could see why she wouldn't like it, at least now anyway.

"You know, when your mom and I were kids we used to play soccer and baseball all the time. Your grandma used to tell her off for coming back all dirty."

Ry's face lit up with mischief at being told this hidden part of his mother's life. It was pure ammunition for a kid to know this kind of stuff. "Really? That doesn't sound like her. What else did she do?"

"She used to come up with all these games that ended with us usually being in trouble, but were always loads of fun. And in the summer instead of watering your grandma's plants, she'd start water fights and then end up getting told off."

"So Mom was naughty as a kid then?"

"No."

"That's not what you said."

"I…." Ryan stopped when he realised he'd just been smooth talked (and very easily at that) into giving Ry information on his mother that she probably didn't want him to know, it was what Theresa had warned him about. He shook his head and smiled a little, "you're good."

Ry only smiled further, and Ryan couldn't help but smile back. "You better not tell her I told you that."

"I won't." Ry promised, then in a smaller more unsure voice then he usually used he asked, "hey, Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you take me to the park? To practice?" Ry didn't look at Ryan and his voice was still unsure as he asked.

"Sure, buddy." Ryan's heart swelled yet again. "We can go for a kick-about whenever you want." It was a promise he fully intended to keep, no matter what.

"And… will you come watch me play?"

Ryan put his arm around Ry and gave him a half shake, half hug and with the smile that had been permanently fixed on his face whilst in his son's presence he said, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

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"I meant legally, Theresa. Have you thought about that, talked to Ryan about custody or anything?"

Theresa was a little taken back, she hadn't thought of anything past letting Ryan spend time with Ry and how to tell Ry eventually that Ryan was his father. Ryan hadn't mentioned anything legal, but that didn't mean he hadn't thought about it. Fear gripped her slightly by the throat and she took a large gulp of her wine to push it away. Would Ryan try to take her son away from her? No, Ryan wouldn't do that, he wasn't that guy. He may have been angry at her, although he seemed less angry the last few times she had seen him than he was that day at the diner, but he would never be malicious. She knew in her gut; custody, lawyers, courts was not something she would have to worry about with Ryan. They would be able to work this out themselves.

"No, we haven't. But Ryan's not that kind of guy. He just wants to be a part of Ry's life and I'll let him." She explained.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to know where you stand. Just in case." Dominic reasoned, once again reaching for her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll think about it."

She didn't really want to get any lawyers involved; she couldn't do that to Ryan. She had hurt him enough already, she had seen it in his eyes, briefly, after he first laid eyes on Ry, after he realised Ry was his son. She trusted Ryan, even after all these years whether he held the same level of trust for her or not. She didn't think she would be able to see that hurt expression on his face again, and know that she was the reason behind it.

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Ryan looked at some of the baby pictures that were held on to the fridge with magnets, they were obviously of Ry. There was one of him on all fours, the photographer had got down to his level and taken the picture as he had crawled towards the camera. The one next to it was Ry asleep in the same position that he had seen Sophie and Josh sleep in as babies. On their back, face to the side and arms up with their hands bunched into fists like a champion fighter.

One picture had slipped down to the bottom of the refrigerator door, the magnet obviously not that strong. Ryan bent down to pick it up. It showed Theresa, smiling, her happiness breaking through the obvious tiredness that showed on her face. She was holding Ry up above the shallow water of a baby bath; he clearly didn't like it as his face was screwed up and red.

Ryan thought he was over feeling angry and hurt that he had missed some of the most important years of his son's life. But looking at these pictures… they were just a fresh reminder of all those feelings, all those years.

He put the picture down beside the two mugs of hot chocolate he had been making. He wasn't sure if Theresa allowed Ry to have it, she had only mentioned ice cream. It was just another thing he didn't know, but he would learn. Ryan promised himself he would get to know all that he could about his son.

Ryan picked up both mugs and the picture caught his eye again. He put the mugs down and picked up the picture. He folded it in half and put it in his pocket.

He picked up the mugs again and walked back to his son.

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Taylor could hardly move through the crowd, people's feet seemed to magically find her own and their elbows found her sides. She reached out for Lucas's hand as he purposefully walked ahead of her, navigating through the crowd like a pro. Keeping close to Lucas she eventually found herself standing next to him at the bar.

"The good stuff?" He asked her.

"Absolutely." She sighed. Lucas flagged down the barman and Taylor looked around.

The new bar had been Lucas' idea, she would have gladly just gone to The Red Lounge, their usually place, and ensconced herself in a booth, telling the barman to keep them coming. Hell, she would have gladly gone to any dive bar that sold liquor. The grimier the better, it would have suited the dark cloud Lucas told her she had hanging over her head when he first saw her.

But she was with Lucas, and he didn't 'do' dive bars, so she agreed to come to the sushi bar slash restaurant he was dying to visit. She just wanted alcohol.

At times like these, being in Lucas's company was easy. He knew when to ask questions, and when not to. Lucas had only commented on her 'dark cloud' and then didn't say another word about it; instead he ordered tequila from the barman.

"And the wine." She supplied.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, black cloud or not, you're still bossy!"

They picked up their drinks and found a tall table with high stools to perch on; it was cluttered with glasses from the patrons that had recently vacated it. Taylor pushed them aside and placed her drink in front of her.

"That barman was cute, I should get his number, dontcha think?"

Taylor merely shrugged and picked up her shot of tequila, threw her head back and downed it in one go. It burned the back of her throat and warmed her insides as it settled in her stomach. It felt good.

She looked at Lucas, who was watching her with one raised eyebrow. "Okay, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She really didn't want to talk about it.

"Really?" he eyed her suspiciously, " 'Cause the little black cloud look and downing tequila shots are just screaming 'I'm fine'."

"It's nothing. And if I wanted twenty questions instead of a drinking buddy I would have gone out with Sarah." Taylor winced at the harshness in her voice, it felt good to say it for an instant, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth,

"Meow! Didn't think you had that in you, must be the tequila talking."

Taylor didn't know what was wrong with her, the entire day her moods had been swinging faster than she could keep track of. If she didn't know any better she could blame it on PMS, but she wasn't going to be PM'ing out of that abbreviation anytime soon. The day felt so long, she had started it hopeful if not a little desperate. Leaving the doctors office she had began to feel through her initial numbness; sat on the bench she had been lost and slightly melancholic. As though she was silently grieving for something she never had, something she may never have.

She had lain in her bed, alternating in quick succession between feeling lonely, miserable, angry, guilty and then nothing. Some of those feelings she felt she could justify, some she couldn't. She just needed a chance to escape it all, for a while, to think of nothing, to feel nothing and for no other reason then the fact she was inebriated.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it. It's just that… I mean…" Taylor sighed and held her head in her hands; the 'Nothing Plan' wasn't working so far. "Can we not talk about it? Please?"

"Okay. Well when you want to talk about it, I'm here. But right now, I'm here…with tequila." Lucas grinned, pushing another shot glass closer to Taylor and she accepted.

"Talk to me about something. Anything." Taylor asked as she pulled the lemon she had sucked dry out her mouth.

"Well, those two girls over there… the blond one is asking the other who did her boob job. She's one drink and one question away from asking her if she can feel them." Lucas said, voice totally serious.

Taylor giggled. She loved this game, especially when she played it with Lucas. The three of them, Lucas, Sarah and herself, played it regularly as they people-watched at lunch and in bars. This was escapism, getting into the lives of others.

"Your turn."

"Okay." Taylor looked around and spotted a couple stood at the bar. "That guy is telling the girl he has 'connections' and he could 'deal' with her boyfriend and take her out to lunch at the same time."

Lucas raised an eyebrow, "yes, he does have a Mafioso look about him. Way too many buttons undone on his shirt."

"The girl looks like a rabbit caught in a trap, poor thing."

"Now that couple seem to have a tragic love affair vibe. She's probably telling him she can't see him anymore, that she has to go back to her husband and be a good little wife."

Taylor looked over at the couple Lucas was looking at and froze. The couple was sat so the guy had his back to her and so she had a clear view of the woman's face. Taylor had only seen her once, and even then she had been slightly drunk, but she wasn't likely to forget what she looked like.

Theresa.

The ex-girlfriend of her boyfriend.

The mother of her boyfriend's child.

The big change of the past week and handful of days, was sat now 10 feet away, having a romantic meal by candle light, while Taylor was attempting to, let's face it, drown her sorrows.

Had Theresa seen her? It didn't look like it, she and, who Taylor assumed to be her boyfriend, were deep in conversation, he was reaching over to take her hand. Should she go and say hello? Taylor really didn't want to, after saying 'hello' she would probably have to make conversation and Taylor didn't want to make conversation with anyone apart from Lucas, and even then they weren't talking about anything taxing.

She really didn't want to talk to the woman who was, after today, the epitome of everything she, herself, wouldn't be able to give Ryan. A son, a family, and the life he clearly wanted.

"We have to leave." She stated as she finished off her drink and picked up her things.

"Why? Do you know them?" Lucas asked as he followed Taylor to the exit.

Once outside Taylor breathed in large gulps of fresh air, adjusting to the space of the street after being in the crowded bar which had felt like it had become a thousand times smaller as soon as she had spotted Theresa.

"Who were they?"

"The woman. That was Theresa." The pin to her previously perfect bubble, the woman whose sudden reappearance was changing everything, bit by bit, that Taylor held so dear.

"Oh." For a man of many words, that was all Lucas could come up with then. After a pause he asked, "wanna go somewhere else?"

Taylor nodded her head and the two of them began to walk down the street. They passed some more restaurants until Taylor stopped outside a sports bar. It was somewhere she would never go, it looked like it was dark inside and it probably smelled. No one she knew would be in there. It was perfect.

"We're going in here." Taylor grabbed Lucas's arm to stop him from walking any further.

"Okay, your little black cloud has clearly burst and rained all over you. I'm not going in there until you tell me what's going on." Lucas demanded, although his voice was tinged with worry. "You're acting weird and it's totally creeping me out. I know I said I wouldn't ask, but Tay… please, talk to me."

Taylor clutched at the last semblance of composure she had left in her; she was not going to cry. This was why she didn't want to talk about it. She knew talking about the PCOS with Ryan was going to be hard enough, but to add his non-presence and seeing Theresa on top of that, was definitely just going to make her break down.

"Oh God, Tay. Sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

Taylor took a few deep breaths and let the shudders pass through her body. "You didn't, Lucas. I'm okay." She looked at him but didn't smile. "I'll tell you everything, but can we get a drink first?"

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Once again Ryan was at his own door, keys in hand, as he arrived home from another night with his son. He wondered if Taylor was still awake waiting for him. He hadn't forgotten that she sounded different, distant on the phone, but she had assured him that nothing was wrong, so he had to believe her. He couldn't leave where he was; he had Ry to look after, Ryan hoped she understood that.

If she was still awake, maybe she would want to talk now, although he doubted that she was, it was late.

Dominic brought Theresa home a little after 10 o'clock. Ryan had been sat on the sofa since he had put Ry to bed. First he looked through one of Ry's schoolbooks. It was amazing just looking at his writing, the words he had written, and the sentences he wrote. An overwhelming surge of pride hit him, as he read.

Then Ryan had found a photo album on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf, he knew it was close to an invasion of privacy to be looking through all of Theresa things, but he couldn't help himself. He was like a thirsty man drinking in all the new details of Ry's life that he had missed.

When Theresa had come into the living room, he was still flicking through it. She didn't seem to mind that he had been looking; instead she sat down and told him the story behind each picture. Where it was taken, when it was taken, who took it, and Ryan was thankful.

As he entered, the apartment was, once again, dark. He checked the kitchen once again, but Taylor wasn't there. The living room was empty as well. Ryan pulled at the buttons on the cuff of his shirt as he walked into the bedroom. In the dark he could just make out the shape of a body beneath the unmade covers on Taylor's side of the bed. He moved silently round the room, undressing.

As he took off his watch, the sound of the front door banging open reverberated through the apartment, followed by a high pitched 'Oops!' It was clearly Taylor, he could tell by the sound of her voice, but if she was… Ryan pulled back the covers of the bed and realised in the dark, the lumps of the unmade bed had only looked like Taylor had been sleeping in the bed.

Ryan came into the hallway and found Taylor shushing the front door.

"Taylor?"

"Ryan!" She exclaimed as she flung out an arm in greeting.

"You're drunk." He hadn't seen her this drunk in a long time and he tried to think of why she would have been today. She was stood two feet away from him, but for some reason, the gap felt like an ocean. When had it changed to that?

He moved toward her, pulling her keys from the lock and threw them on the table by the door. When he turned back to Taylor she was swaying on her feet and her eyes were shutting with tiredness, Ryan put one arm around her waist and bent slightly to hook the other around her legs. He lifted her effortlessly and drew her close to him in his arms.

Taylor was still awake enough to place her arms loosely around Ryan's neck as he carried her to their bed and Ryan could hear her mumbling words that didn't make any sense to him.

He softly laid her down and slowly slipped her shoes off her feet; then he unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs. He pulled the covers up around her and heard her say his name.

"Hey," he whispered back brushing her hair from her face, as her eyes fluttered open.

"Ryan?"

"It's me."

"You weren't here. I was trying to forget." Taylor's eyes fluttered close, as she mumbled, "I'm sorry," before she was taken by sleep.

TBC

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