Ryder's POV

Today was the day. Today was the day that Casey was coming home. I was surprised that I was really looking forward to seeing her. It had only been a week since we'd seen each other, but I had still missed her. Not that I would ever admit that to anyone.

I walked down the steps in my house, and headed to the living room where I knew I would find my dad. After the doctors kept him in the hospital to make sure that his cerebral cortex wasn't damaged and that he would be okay to go home, they had discharged him yesterday. They had made sure to explain to me that since my dad had been in a coma for a year, he would need to relearn most of everyday activities. Like how to get back his balance, how to eat, when to use the bathroom, etc. Most coma patients that survived after being under a coma for so long, forgot how to do a lot of things, Dr. Gray had assured me that it was normal and to make sure that I was always patient with him.

"Hey, pop," I greeted as I walked in the room. He looked up from the book he was reading, sprawled over the couch, a blanket wrapped around his body, with a smile.

"Hey, kid, you sleep okay?" he asked and I nodded.

"Best sleep I've had in days," I admitted, wincing when his eyes flashed with guilt. I hadn't meant to make him feel guilty, it wasn't his fault that I hadn't been sleeping well since he'd gotten in a coma.

"I have to ask you something, kiddo," He paused and I nodded encouragingly, "What happened? How did I end up in a coma?"

"You were coming home from the restaurant. You got hit by an out-of-control truck, which caused quite the blow to your head. Causing trauma to the brain." His eyes shifted away and I watched him mull this information over. He turned back towards me after a minute and I knew his question before he even asked it. "He didn't survive. It was snowing that day and he lost control of the truck. After it hit you, it slid off the road and crashed into a tree; immediately killing him."

His eyes turned sad as he nodded. I'd been so angry at the man who'd put him in that bed, but as the days went on, I reminded myself that my dad would be disappointed if he knew I'd reacted that way. My dad was the kind of guy who cared about everyone and was always putting others above him. He was a great guy.

"So Casey is coming home today, hmm?" he gave me a knowing smile and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, dad, she is," I replied with a shake of my head.

Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows up and down. "Are you gonna go pick her up at the airport?"

"Why would I do that?" I asked, rolling my eyes. I sat up straighter in the couch I'd slumped into when I'd walked in the room.

He gave me an exasperated look and shook his head with a sigh. "Because you're in love and you need to show her."

I burst out laughing, grabbing onto my stomach when it became too much. "Are you crazy?!" I managed to get out through my fit of laughter. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes serious. "Dad, I'm not in love. I don't fall in love."

"Ryder, I may have been in a coma for a year, but I'm still your dad and I know you like I know my way around a kitchen and you kid—you're in love." I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. My dad clearly had gotten air in his brain. I wasn't in love with Casey. No way. Yes, it made my blood boil when another man looked at her and yes it scared the living crap out of me to think of another man's hands on her, but I wasn't in love with her. I was just protective of her.

Is that why you would beat any idiot, that dare hurt her again, to a pulp? That voice in the back of my head whispered and I did the only logical thing; I ignored it, because like my dad, it was crazy.

"I'm not in love with her, dad, I just care about her, a lot," I admitted, granting him that small satisfaction. His face split into a grin.

"Oh you poor sucker, you're whipped and you don't even know it." I rolled my eyes, throwing a throw-pillow at him, making him laugh.

"I'm not," I protested, trying to convince myself of that more than I was trying to convince him.

"Is Ollie coming by later?" he asked, changing the subject, which I welcomed with opened arms. I didn't like discussing my feelings.

"Yeah, he's coming over for dinner. I'm gonna head over to Casey's around three, and I'll be back in time for dinner," I informed him and he nodded. "I'm gonna bring home some takeout."

"Okay." He nodded, his eyes hinting at sadness. I knew it was killing him to not be able to be in the kitchen. Cooking was my dad's life and to be told that he wouldn't be able to do that for a while, had killed him.

"Don't worry, pop, you'll be back in the kitchen in no time," I assured him and he smiled weakly, nodding.

"So when I'm I going to meet this girl of yours?" he changed the subject, smiling. Just like me, my dad always found away to avoid things he didn't want to deal with. It was a family trait.

"I don't know. I don't want you to scare her," I told him with a smirk and he laughed.

"There is no way I'm scaring off my future daughter-in-law." I chocked on my own spit. What was with people and suggesting that I would someday marry Casey?

I walked in the Stratford's back door a few hours later. Nadia had told me to use the back door of the house, that led into the kitchen, whenever I came over, so that she didn't have to walk way to the entrance to let me in. If you walked around the corner of the massive house, you would come upon a low wood fence with a swinging gate that led to the huge back yard, that looked more like a golf court with a pool. Right by the pool were two doors. One that led to a hallway that took you to the third level of the house and the other that led directly to the kitchen. How Casey could afford this house, I had no idea. I knew her dad was dead, but I'd never heard of her mom.

I suspected her mom either worked a lot and that's how they could afford this freaking mansion, or she wasn't alive—since I still hadn't met her—and Casey had inherited the home. I had thought about asking her many times, but I'd bitten my tongue and held back. I knew about not wanting to share and I didn't want to push Casey.

As I walked through the empty kitchen, I remembered Casey had mentioned that Nadia wouldn't be home until the next day from New York. I decided to head straight to Casey's room so I headed to the elevator I'd been informed of a few days ago by Casey. Who the fudging hell has an elevator in their home?

When the elevator doors slid open with a ding, I stepped off, greeted by the sight of Casey as she ran towards me and tackled me, her limbs wrapping around me. I stood in shock for a moment, before my arms voluntarily slid around her body as she hung to me, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck and her legs around my torso. My arms tightened around her as I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in. I felt her sigh beneath me and I smiled. Good to know I wasn't the only one who had missed someone.

"Hi," she mumbled, her lips moving against my neck, sending chills down my spine. I shook the feeling, placing a hand on the back of her head.

"Hi, sweetheart." She untangled herself and I helped her get on her two feet. I felt my heart stop in my chest when her big, innocent brown eyes stared up at me. She looked happy; her eyes were shining brightly. "Was that your way of letting me know that you missed me?" I smirked and she chuckled.

"Sure." She smiled softly, planting both hands on her small hips. "I know how much you like to feed your ego, so why not?" She grinned and I rolled my eyes playfully. "I still have some stuff to unpack, so make yourself at home." She gestured towards her suitcase and I nodded. Walking over to one of the bean bags in her room, I slumped down in it, my eyes watching her every move as she moved around the room, unpacking her stuff. Her movements were done graciously and without any effort; just like a ballerina's movements would be.

"How was the trip back home? Was it hard without my hot self for you to sprawl yourself on like an octopus?" I teased with a crooked grin and she rolled her eyes.

"Actually it was much easier, since I had the entire row to myself without an egomaniac taking up all the space with his ego," she smirked and I gasped mockingly.

"How dare you, I do not take up all the space, just half of it," I replied in a mock hurt tone. She glanced at me over her shoulders to shoot me a grin.

"No, of course you don't," she replied, pulling clothes out of her suitcase. "How was your trip back home?" she asked hesitantly but, I immediately knew what her real question was.

"I came back home for my dad," I answered her unspoken question, making her turn around, curiously. "My dad was in a coma for a year and he woke up."

"That's why you were at the hospital," she mumbled, mostly to herself, but I nodded anyways. "Is he okay?"

I nodded with a smile. "He's home."

"That's great," she smiled with a nod. "How did he get in a coma?" she asked curiously, walking over towards me and taking the seat opposite mine.

"Car accident. A truck slammed into him, he banged his head against the glass window, which created trauma to the brain," I replied and she nodded, understandingly.

"Was there any damage to his cerebral cortex?" I shook my head no and she sighed in relief, making me smile. She didn't even know my dad, but still she cared. That was one of the things I loved about her.

Wait...what?

Let me fix that sentence; that was one of the things I liked about her. There, that's better.

"He's fine. He just has to rest," I assured her, forgetting my little error for the moment. She nodded again. "And now you know something about me, you can't say I never told you anything."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I guess I can't, huh?"

"Nope. So tell me, sweetheart, whatever happened to the old Casey?" Her eyebrows lowered in confusion, "From what I've been told, you are currently the town's badass." She laughed, shaking her head.

"She's still in there." She stared up at me, staring at me intently. "I've spent most of my life making sure that I follow every rule, live by every norm—I'm just sick of it, I guess."

"Why?" She raised an eyebrow, letting me know she didn't understand my question, so I tried again, "Why did you live by people's rules?"

"My mom was a perfectionist. 'Never give anyone anything to talk about that won't make others envy you,' was her favorite thing to say..." she trailed off, her eyes wandering off, a sadness settling in and I wanted to curse. I didn't like that sadness. I wanted it to leave and never come back. What shocked me, though, was the fact that I wanted to be the person to get rid of that sadness. I wanted to be the one to make her happy. I wanted to be the one to make her smile. I wanted those smiles to be for me.

"Why are you speaking in the past tense, sweetheart?" I asked curiously. I knew her dad was dead, but I'd never heard anything about her mom until today.

Her eyes lowered to her fingers and that was all the answer I needed. Her mom was dead.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my heart breaking for her. I couldn't imagine what it was like loosing both of your parents.

She shook her head, looking up. "We didn't get along. I can go as far as saying that we hated each other."

"I'm sure that's not true," I answered soothingly and she attempted a smile.

"It is. I wasn't supposed to be born. My parents weren't supposed to have any children—that was their agreement." I stared at her in confusion. What was she talking about? "My parents marriage was an arrangement. They got married to join two—already powerful—companies. Part of the arrangement was that they wouldn't have any children. But one two many Pinot and a broken condom, here I am."

"What happened when they found out they were having you?" I asked softly, trying not to scare her off. I wanted to know her story, I wanted to know everything about her, and even though that scared me, I couldn't change it.

"My mom tried to get rid of me. Twice. When I was born, my parents were resentful that I'd survived, believing that it was my fault that I wasn't dead. Nadia always says that even from the womb I had outsmarted my mother." She smiled a bitter smile, keeping her chin up, trying to stay strong, but her eyes told me a different story. It killed her. It killed her to share this.

I found myself standing up and walking over towards her. Grabbing her by the arms, I lifted her out of her seat, sat down in the vacated chair and pulled her into my lap, wrapping my arms around her body, tightly. She rested her head on my shoulder with a sigh and I planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"No offense, sweetheart, but your mom sucked hairy balls." She chuckled softly and I smiled.

Hearing her laugh was the best sound in the world.