A/N.: Sorry for the late update, but I've been awfully busy the last few weeks. For those of you who are waiting for an update on my new story: I'm working on it and I won't let the story unfinished. A big thanks for reading my stories and to 6footer who betaed this story for me =)

31. Decisions – your family won't always like your decision. Making it though might proof them wrong

I join my husband in the kitchen, watching our kids in the den. He looks satisfied with himself and the world. I wrap an arm around him. After Ryan left, we didn't think we might see him again, let alone that he'd come back to us. Now he's sitting in our den as if everything that lies behind us has never happened. I have a bad conscience about not having been there for him, when he was the weakest. I explained it to him though. I told him that I couldn't handle it and that I had to fight hard for my sobriety. I expected him reacting disappointed, but he reacted respectful, nearly as if he was proud of me. My health was more important to him than my company he said, blushing after he realised what exactly he had said. He corrected himself immediately saying that he meant that he appreciated my company and that it was important to him, just not on all expenses. I knew already from the first sentence what he meant. I couldn't believe that he was putting himself first. He never did and he never will. There's a lot of work to be done to change that. I don't want this attitude to be the reason for him killing himself over the company. He has a life himself and he's supposed to live it, especially after nearly losing it. Watching him content like that under our roof makes me feel whole again. My heart fell apart when he announced his leave to us. He can still remember the day, when he came down stairs and wanted to talk to us…

After the doctors gave the go, Ryan came back to us. He had a long way of recovery lying ahead from him. He was healthy, but weak. He had to learn how to eat again and he had to learn how to move around. The long period of bed rest let his muscles degrade an awfully lot, not talking about his immune system which was weaker than ever. He coped with it the Ryan way and he was up and back on his own feet sooner than everyone told us he would be. We were proud of him, but we never thought abut the time after his recovery. Somehow things felt strangely normal again. The family was whole with Ryan among us. Then he came downstairs one morning. He had spent an awful lot of time on the computer lately, but I didn't ask him what he was doing. I respect his privacy. He's an adult man and doesn't need to be watched any second. It's a hard process coming to terms with this realisation, but we wanted to keep him and not scare him away, hence we had to treat him and acknowledge him as the adult man that he was and is. I stepped out to us on the patio. Seth had been out with Summer that day. Ryan probably picked the day deliberately. Seth would have made the whole conversation a lot more difficult as it already was for all of us.

"Hey honey, time to join us?" I asked him. He blushed and I could see something was up his mind. He sat down by us.

"I have to talk to you, about something." My husband frowned, the unmistakable sign that he was sceptical about what was coming up to us. I braced myself for the next horror message.

"Then talk. We're all yours." My husband said, putting aside the newspaper and watching Ryan closely. Ryan became even redder if that was even possible.

"Well, it…I don't want you to think that I'm ungrateful or…but…I mean, I really am grateful for all you did. You've been great and you did a great deal on…just everything…but I want to finish my degree."He said. I didn't get at first what the problem was about this. Of course he wanted to finish his degree. He had been working too hard to let it slide.

"Of course. That's wonderful news. That means you're fully recovered, so why do you come to us as if you have some horrible news?" I asked him.

"'cause, I want to go back to Boston. I can pick up my scholarship again and…if I'm doing well, they'll offer me a Masters degree. Right now…they sound kinda certain about it." The last few words where nearly inaudible. My chest was close to burst with pride. I always knew Ryan was smart, but that he got a scholarship for two degrees was amazing.

"But that's even better news and Boston his not too far away." My husband seemed as confused as I was.

"Yeah, but…if I can pick up seamlessly from where I broke up, which means I have one and a half year left until my Masters." He tried to explain it to us as painless as possible, but beating around the bush is like pulling of a band aid slowly.

"And this Masters degree isn't in Boston?" I asked to force him to his point.

"Oxford. Great Britain." My eyes shot open. This was further away than Boston and then, one and a half year and he would leave?

"What? Are your sure, that you're ready for that? I mean you recovered only shortly and…are you sure you feel strong enough for such a challenge?" I asked him. I could live with Boston. Boston was already hard, but he had started there and he wanted to finish there. I could understand. I could cope. But Great Britain? This wasn't even on the continent anymore. It was hard enough to digest the news that he wanted to leave us that soon – that he even considered leaving us again.

"I think I'm ready for this." He whispered. Discomfort was the colour of his face.

"This is a huge challenge."

"And it's a huge opportunity. Listen, Oxford isn't far away from London and they have some really really top-class architecture firms there." He explained himself. As sad as I was about this news, I understood him. He wanted to go out into the world. He'd never left the continent and he had a huge chance at hand. When I've been his age, I would have given my right hand for such an opportunity. This was more prestige than he could ever gain here. Still, I was afraid that it was too early for him, that he was overdoing it and destryoing his dream with his impatience. On the other hand I've never met such a reasonable man in that age again. I could be certain that he had thought well about this decision and that he was old enough to say 'no' when he felt he wasn't ready yet.

"So, when do you plan to leave?" My husband asked. His face was forced to a painful grimace of played happiness. He was hit by the news as I was. The difference was that I could related better to Ryan's situation, because I've been a young architecture student myself, taking every chance which was open to me.

"To Boston, at the end of the week. Semester starts early." He answered.

"This is a little short term, don't you think? You need to find an accommodation before and…"

"I can stay on campus. I got some benefits due…to my medical history." Then it dawned to me why he had spent that much time at the computer. He'd been planning this behind our back. He couldn't even ask us for an opinion? I was angry about this distrust he demonstrated us again.

"And you thought planning behind our back was better than putting the cards on the table?" I wanted to know why he had retreated from us again, without us even noticing it.

"Yeah, I thought that, because I wasn't sure whether I could decide unbiased after you were able to tell me what you thought about this. I wanted to make a free decision."

"And we inhibit this?" My husband sounds as angry as I feel.

"Don't get me wrong, but I…guess you would have made me stay here and this isn't good. Not that I don't want to, but I think leaving and being on my own for a while can be quite helpful for me. I think being at a distance for a period of time can help me to sort out and come over everything that has happened."

"And you can't do this here?" I asked him wary about his concerns.

"I don't think so. I need to get an objective view on things. Here you're around and there are too many things and emotions that influence me. It's like all this is numbing my mind and I can't grasp a clear thought. I…have to do this. This is all I can say." He had been bloody honest to us.

"Okay. This is…hard to digest, but…I can understand you, I want to ask you just one wish." I told him.

"Shoot."

"Don't leave us behind. Stay in contact with us."

"I never thought about breaking it. I…just wanted to get a distance between us. That's all. I'm not running away this time. I'm just leaving – officially."

With this sentence everything was said. We never managed to visit him in Boston and he never managed to visit us. I think I had it in my blood that I wouldn't see him that soon again. This made the goodbye a little teary on my part. I hugged him goodbye, as if I'll never get the chance to do so again. I nearly pressed all air out of his lungs. He had promised me to stay with us in mind. I can still imagine his last glance when he turned around the last time and waved at us and then going in the crowd streaming towards the plane.

He wrote us e-mails. He hardly called, but regarding the time when he wrote the mails, he was too busy at day. He even wrote a card from Oxford and London. I still have it pinned on the door of the fridge. No, he didn't run away and he didn't leave us. In fact the time away from us had done him a lot good. He's more content. He knows how to act around us and is at ease with us and his surrounding. He grew a lot more during the time he spent abroad.

"Eww! Ryan! Use a tissue and keep your germs for yourself!" Seth exclaims, after a sneeze from Ryan. I'm so glad that it's only an infection, nothing worse which the doctor had found in his blood.

"What are you doing here anyway?" My husband asks our son and joins the two in the den. I follow him.

"Hmm, let me guess: Summer's baby shopping with Marissa and I have to charge my creative battery so I can go on with my shiny career as author of the best known graphic novel at the east coast called 'atomic county'."

"Meaning: you're watching us, so you can draw our lives down on paper and sell it as your own story which you made up in your mind. Very creative." Ryan replies with a grin.

"Nah, right now here's nothing adaptable happening. Sick Kid Chino isn't selling well."

"Sorry for having to disappoint you here. It'll happen more often for the next time. I really wish my brother had a better immune system. With whatever you gave me, it's a miracle that you aren't sick twenty-four seven." Ryan jokingly complains into my husband's direction, well aware that his own immune system still needs to be rebuilt.

"Hey, do you talk like that to a big brother?" Sandy replied mockingly.

"Well, to one who sings along with show tunes, I think yes." I answer for Ryan.

"Mom, you're having a point there." Seth adds.

"Dear family, I'm wounded." My husband answers, grabbing his chest with his hands and playing death. We all burst into full hearted laughter.

Yes, we're a family. No matter how confusing and insane our family relations might be, but we are a family. A family again.