“Did he seem to be okay?”
Ryan rubbed his face with both hands. He looked exhausted, defeated, almost resigned.
“Her name is Sloane.”
At least now he had a name.
“Who is she?”
Again.
This time Ryan looked away. For a long time I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he said softly:
The words stopped me in my tracks. Not loved. Not lost.
Hurt.
