Chapter 1

Present (Two years since Aqueela has been gone)

Sarah's POV:

"Ryan, please," I say in exasperation, attempting to stay calm and sweet with him, "I'm trying to drive here. Can we talk about this later?" I take my eyes off the road for a second to see the sky turn a darker shade of gray. It rains too much in Minnesota. I miss feeling the sunshine and warmth on my skin.

"No!" Ryan snaps, still infuriated yet still on his phone. "You just dumped me in front of your entire family without any explanation whatsoever. It was humiliating."

I shake my head, refusing to look at him -- I know that he'll still be looking at his phone's screen in any case. "No explanation? What about you insulting half of my family members to their faces? Is that not explanation enough? You were rude. Plus, this isn't the first time."

I sigh, wondering why I even went out with Ryan in the first place. He's always been selfish and invested in his games. I don't think I've ever really mattered to him. I push the thought away and blow a stray strand of silvery, blonde hair from my face.

"I wasn't insulting them." He jumps to his own defense, his thumbs tapping away at his phone screen. "You know I battle. I don't have social skills. I was just trying to make conversation. I was trying to impress them." He awkwardly pulls on the collar of his button-up shirt as if to get air.

Ryan comes across as confident and arrogant to those who don't really know him, but I know him and I know that, inside, he's usually a ball of hot nerves.

"By telling my aunt that she can't possibly own her own restaurant because her food isn't of restaurant quality?" I question, trying to wrap my mind around the situation. His constant anxiety around people is mind-boggling. I can't understand what I don't have.

"I was trying to impress her with my knowledge of food," he mumbles quietly.

I don't have to take my eyes off the road to know that he's carrying that sheepish expression of his now. I feel guilty for making him feel guilty. We may not be together anymore but that doesn't mean that I don't care about him anymore. I still want to look out for him.

"Why?" I ask, a frown taking over my features.

"Because you're my girlfriend and I want to make you happy," he replies automatically, still not processing the fact that we've been broken up for an hour now.

"Was your girlfriend," I correct softly, afraid to upset him.

"Right," he says in that clipped voice of his, the voice he uses on me when angry. He lifts his eyes from his phone and turns his gaze to me. "Was," he concludes coldly, sending a dagger of ice straight through my chest.

I bite my bottom lip in uncertainty. I do owe him more of an explanation; we were dating for a little over a year. He hasn't been the ideal boyfriend but when he asked me out, I couldn't say 'no' to his baby blue eyes and charming smile.

"You've never put me first. I've never been your priority in this relationship. I've always done everything for you. You've always made me feel more like your mother than your girlfriend. You wouldn't even drive us to my parent's house when I was tired," I tell him, making my point crystal clear.

"Not my fault your parents live so far away," he argues, his thumbs tapping harder and quicker against the glass screen of his phone.

I wish this road wasn't so empty. I'd have more to concentrate on than this dull conversation.

"Ryan," I drawl hesitantly, needing him to hear the truth from me, "I love you but I don't think I was ever in love with you. I'm sorry for only telling you this now. I just think that we're better apart than together."

When he doesn't speak, I decide to focus all my attention on the empty road. I put on the windshield wipers when it begins to rain ever so slightly, nothing but a drizzle. The sky is getting darker. Fortunately, we're close to home.

"Your parents are going to miss my wild sense of humor," Ryan snorts obnoxiously, brushing off what I just said to him as if unaffected by it. "We would have made beautiful grandkids for them."

I roll my eyes, aware that he only fights childish when he knows that he's losing. However, I don't want to be too harsh with him. I know him well enough to know that he's hurt and trying to hide it from me.

"My parents have never liked you, Ryan," I clarify in the kindest way possible, for his sake.

"Playing the 'my parents never liked you' card, Sarah. How low of you." He scoffs in disbelief, squeezing his phone tightly as if wanting to break it. "If your parents hate me so much, then why does your mom always hug me and why does your dad always ask me when we're getting married?"

"She hugs you because I force her to. She's been mouthing insults over your shoulder to me since she met you," I inform him, hoping that he'll value my honesty. "And my dad keeps asking when we're getting married because he's hoping that we never do."

Ryan finally exits his game and switches off his phone, much to my shock. It's not often he gives me, or anyone for that matter, his full attention. "What about the rest of your family?" He arches an eyebrow at me.

I reluctantly shake my head, careful not to offend him further. "They only tolerate you. They didn't want me to date you in the first place."

"Because of this?" He holds up his phone and I notice it from the corner of my eye.

I shift in my seat and scan the sadness in his icy, blue eyes before averting my gaze back to the road. "Uh...yeah. My uncle said that you won't have enough room for me in your life. He warned me that I'd always be second, after your gaming."

Ryan licks his lips and looks out of the window at the passing scenery. "That's not fair, Sarah."

I sigh for the second time, aware of where he's coming from. Gaming isn't just a hobby for him. It's his coping mechanism for dealing with people. He plays to take away the unbearable anxiety.

"He doesn't understand your love for games, Ry," I try to explain it to him. "I do. I want you to continue on gaming because I really do believe you'll get somewhere. I've seen you play. You're great. It's your passion. But, Ryan, I'm not. I'm not your passion. I don't want to be second anymore."

"Funny," he mutters, sarcastic, "'cause you never were."

My heart lurches in my chest. I never want to be the reason why someone else is hurting. I shake off the feeling and turn on the car's lights when the sky turns black. Fortunately, there are flickering lampposts further up ahead.

"But it never felt that way. That's what I'm trying to tell you," I say to him and then groan when he insults me under his breath. "Can you be mature enough to finish this conversation on a civil note?"

"Probably not," he answers cockily.

"Sue's always liked you," I state in the hopes of cheering him up.

"Your sister likes everyone!" He exclaims in exasperation. "You're not helping! Just let me out of this car." He begins tugging on the door handle, distracting me from my driving. "I'm serious. Open the door, Sarah!" He snaps, raising his voice at me.

I hate it when he raises his voice – it's not often but I cringe inside when he does. I always resort to ignoring him when he gets like this. Unfortunately, it just makes him angrier. Fortunately, his anger takes the form of words and not actions.

"Pull over, Sarah, or I'm breaking the window!"

As always, he manages to rattle me when in this mood. "Are you crazy?!" I take one hand off the wheel and slap his chest. "Stop it! I'm driving!"

The rain pours down more heavily, making the road slippery. On instinct, I slow down. When Ryan reaches over and tries to grab the wheel from me, I panic and quickly lose control. "Ryan!" I shout at the top of my lungs. "Let go!"

"Pull over!" He jerks the wheel to the side with power.

Before I know it, we're spiraling off of the road. Immediately, I slam on brakes, but not quick enough to stop us from smashing into a small tree. Thankfully, our seatbelts prevent us from hitting our heads. Still, the whiplash is enough to disorientate me for a minute or so.

"Are you okay?" I ask Ryan, stretching out a hand to him. I glance over at him, concerned. I let out a breath of relief when he meets my gaze.

It takes him a second to register it all before he suddenly lashes out at me. "I cannot believe you!" He shakes his head, lifting a hand to his temple as if frustrated. "You could have killed us!"

"Are you freaken kidding me right now, Ryan?!" I all but shout, my outstretched hand falling limply at my side. "This is your fault!" I furiously twist the key in the ignition but the car won't start. I hit my hand on the steering wheel, still reeling in shock.

"Great. Now how are we getting home?" Ryan asks, refusing to take accountability for the part he played in all of this.

I run my hands through my hair and lean back in my seat, still breathing rapidly. I don't know what I ever saw in Ryan Brewer. I keep trying to spare his feelings but he never bothers to spare mine. I glare at him before slamming open my door.

"Where are you going?" Ryan calls over to me when I start walking away from him and the crash. "Sarah!" He yells at me when I don't answer him. "Come back! It's raining and it's dark out!"

I ignore him and keep on moving. I'm not stopping in this rain. There's a garage nearby, about ten minutes from here. It's five p.m. Considering that it's a Sunday, I'm guessing that it's closed. If that's the case, then I'll have to call for help with Ryan's phone seeing as my phone is flat.

I'm not even surprised when Ryan stays in the car, not prepared to get wet by going after me. I wipe away a few stray tears, making sure they blend in with the rain. My long-sleeve shirt clings tightly to my body as I walk through mud, breathing in the cold air.

There are some lights ahead and eventually, the small garage comes into view. I let out a sigh of relief. With my hair mattered to my forehead and my mascara smudged, I bravely approach the garage, my car now out of sight.

My heart sinks when I spot the 'closed' sign hanging across the glass window. Still, I peer in through the windows. I don't want to have to beg Ryan to use his precious phone. I smile to myself when I see a light on inside, hope fluttering within me.

"Hey!" I call and knock on the windows, hoping to be heard. "Hey!" I yell louder when I see movement beneath one of the cars. "I need help! Please!" I wait a few minutes and when there's no response, I decide better of it.

I'm about to turn around and head back to Ryan when I see someone roll out from underneath the car. The person stands up and drops a spanner to the floor before approaching the window where I'm standing.

Fierce green eyes meet my blue eyes from the other side of the glass. "Are you blind?" He asks, his voice low and gruff. "We're closed," he says, brushing a strand of his brown hair upward, irritated with the disruption.

Before even giving me a chance to reply, he turns his back and takes a seat on the bonnet of the car he'd just been working on. I watch him take in a breath as if tired before picking up a green cloth and wiping the dirt off of his hands.

"Please help me," I ask softly, trying to reason with him. I bite down on my lip when the wind picks up, adding to the icy chill in the air. I hate the rain. I don't know how I've lasted all these years in Minnesota.

"No," he answers firmly, his gray vest stained with black smudges. "Now leave."

"I was in a car accident. My car won't start. I can't get home. I can't leave," I explain, hoping that this stranger behind the glass has an actual beating heart that he can put to use.

He glares at me coldly as if not seeing a helpless human being in front of him. "Sounds like a you problem," he grumbles out angrily.

His high cheekbones, his angled face, his sharp jawline and his dark eyebrows resting low above his piercing, green eyes make it evident as to what kind of person he's become, someone that I bet he wasn't once upon a time.

"Get lost," he says through clenched teeth when noticing me staring. He ruffles his brown hair to one side as if he couldn't care less about my situation.

I take in his appearance again. He has a muscular physique under the gray vest he's wearing. The planes and indents of years worth of training, of years worth of venting, are clearly visible. "It's raining and it's dark. Please. I need help," I repeat, desperate.

"We all need help in this life," he replies, picking up the spanner and tossing it into the toolbox lying on the dusty floor. "Doesn't mean we all get it," he adds, crossing his arms over his chest and watching me with careful eyes.

I analyze his features for a second or two before coming to the obvious conclusion – he's immune to emotion, at least, he's convinced himself he is. "I question your humanity," I tell him quietly, never wanting to turn out like him, no matter what. "And humanity questions you."

Something undetectable flickers across his expression at hearing my words, his green eyes brightening for a second before turning to stone again.

I wrap my arms around me as I begin the journey back to Ryan and my car. I shiver, silently making a vow to myself to always look out for people, to never turn my back on people. I will care and I will not stop caring just because others don't. I will not be selfish, even if the world is.

I'm so consumed in my thoughts that I barely hear the heavy footsteps trailing after me in the storm, but I definitely hear the single word slip from his lips.

"Wait."