The Man who will Surely Break my Heart

I arrive home to find that my house is in less than acceptable shape to have a guest over. I glide around the house, frantically collecting laundry, toys and items out of place in my stride. I have a five year old son, who Ryan has met before. He's always so easygoing and natural with my boy, Parker, too.

Ryan pretends to not be a fan of kids, and often makes (hilarious) but sarcastic jokes about the hard work that goes into raising them. Children always seem to gravitate toward him, though. He steals their attention effortlessly, delighting them by feeding into their games and being genuinely present in his interactions with them. He was always using his humour to subtly compliment me. He probably has no idea how much I appreciate it. Often, Ryan closes his hysterical comments with a more serious tone, and I know he means what he says.

"You're a great mum Maddie, I don't know how you deal with these little monsters." He said to me once, that loud and infectious laugh forcing me also to grin from ear to ear, despite trying to keep a straight face.

It was special for a couple of reasons; I couldn't help but notice that he had called me Maddie, which is a name only my close friends and family are afforded. I usually hate that nickname, but I do let it slide for those who have known me the longest, and those who know me best. The other reason is because I had recently come out of a years long battle with Post Natal Depression and Anxiety. In one brief sentence he had affirmed something about me that I longed for so badly, but have always struggled to believe. He has this ability to make me feel special without even trying, and that's something I admire about Ryan. That, and he makes me feel safe. Ryan makes me feel as though I can unapologetically be myself, without fear of judgement.

I've made the house look mildly respectable, I would have liked to give it a mop but it will need to wait. I've run out of time. I roll my eyes at myself over how silly I'm being. I know that Ryan couldn't care less if my h0use is tidy. I stand in my walk in closet, frowning at the clothes - or lack there of, more like - that are hanging up neatly. I really don't know what to wear. I don't want him to think I got dressed up for him, but equally don't want to look frumpy and boring. I opt for a black v-neck shirt that accentuates my round breasts, and a tight but still flattering black and red floral mini skirt. It brings attention to my little waist, and wide hips.

It intimidates me that all of his girlfriends have been what can only be described as super-model-vibes. Ryan definitely has a type. Tall, blonde, gorgeous... and crazy. Just for your reference, I am quite literally the opposite of that. I have caramel-brown hair which falls just above my shoulder blades, a round face that is saved only by the cute dimples that crease at the sides of my mouth when I smile, and the somewhat defined cheek bones that I inherited from my obnoxiously beautiful mother. I'm only 5 feet 6 inches, and what modern society would call 'thicc'.

Admittedly, I've recently lost thirty five kilos, and have been on a self love journey - so my hourglass figure doesn't bother me nearly as much as it used to. I have learned to love my wide hips, perky (but very large) bottom, and full breasts which fit somewhere between a 14F & 16E.

I look at the time on my phone, there's a message from Ryan 3 minutes ago that reads

See you in 10

I stumble frantically into my bathroom running a brush through my hair, which I'm grateful I bothered to curl earlier that morning. The curls have dropped out, but it gives my hair volume and makes it look healthier. It frames my face perfectly, and I'm pleased that my large blue eyes and thick, dark lashes that I've just had tinted, make me feel pretty tonight.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror, power walk to my kitchen and pour myself a glass of Pinot Noir. I'm already rehearsing the joke I will make about it being mediocre. It's pointless, because Ryan doesn't even drink wine. He also wouldn't judge me for the wine I drink, but some of those lingering traits of anxiety die hard. I am working on it.

I flick the TV on, starting a Spotify playlist of old 90s R&B. I don't want him to think that I'm going for a romantic vibe, but also want to be cautious that there isn't any bouts of dead silence while he's here. I don't want it to be awkward. I have barely sunk into the chair at my balcony table, when the intercom sounds. I feel those all-to0-familiar butterflies swarm my stomach, I can't avoid them.

I answer the intercom

"Sorry, do I know you?" I tease. He chuckles when I say this.

"Wrong number, sorry. I'll go now." He jokes, pulling the door open.

I return to my seat on the balcony. I know Ryan will let himself in like he usually does, I've left the door unlocked. It takes only a few minutes before I hear the door click open and then swiftly closed. Ryan appears in the hallway, and I get to watch his tall handsome figure, and perfect smile amble toward me. He's so relaxed, it instantly calms me. He puts his beers in the fridge, cracking one open in the kitchen before joining me on the balcony.

"I'll stay for a quick chat, I can't be too long or Kiara will start questioning where I am." he says, gazing at his feet and suddenly shy.

"That's all cool." I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

I pause for a second, I don't want him to feel like he has to dish the goss', but I also want him to know that he can talk to me if he needs to.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" I trail off quietly, giving him that same sweet smile that I am sure had disarmed him earlier at his shop.

We made eye contact for a moment, the sadness that I had seen in his eyes returned as he mulled over whether he wanted to divulge what was on his mind.

Ryan and I spent the next four hours on my balcony, talking a whole lot about nothing and everything that night. Neither of us realised that we had lost track of all that time.

Authors note: Part 2 is finally here! I have realised that it is overly ambitious to promise two releases per week of this ongoing story. Therefore, I have decided instead to write once-weekly about 'The Man who will Surely Break my Heart'. If you missed Part 1, it can be found here: The Man who will Surely Break my Heart - Part 1. Thank you for joining me for the lead up to what could be a beautiful love story...or is it?