(Ryan’s POV)
The sound of the doorbell slammed into my chest like a hammer.
I stood there, frozen in the foyer, staring at the front door.
Too late.
It was too f*****g late.
I should’ve gone to her house. I should’ve ignored the coffee errand and just run straight to her door. Warned her. Protected her. But now the damage was done, and I was about to watch it unfold in real time.
I took a deep breath and headed over to it. When I opened the door, Mr Andrews stood there, looking every bit the mildly frazzled suburban dad—smart pants, shirt slightly wrinkled, tie already halfway loosened. His brows were drawn together like he’d spent the entire drive here trying to guess whether someone was dead, arrested, or both.
“Ryan,” he said, looking relieved to see me. “Is everything okay? Your
