Becoming Strangers Again by Lily

LILY Something is bothering Ryan, and it's becoming painfully obvious that he's hiding it from me. "Are you sure you don't want to tellwhat's bothering you?" I asked for the umpteenth tsince we left for the airport. His response was that spracticed smile-the kind that doesn't even reach his eyes. "It's nothing you need to worry about," he lied, leaning over to kiss my temple. "Just sstress at work, nothing more." I knew he wasn't being truthful, but I decided to let it go, at least for now. If he wasn't willing to share, there wasn't much else I could do. Silence hung in the car for the rest of the ride as I stared out of the window, lost in my thoughts.

At the airport, the boys were reluctant to say goodbye to Ryan. I could see how much they didn't want to leave, and it made my heart ache. He kissedas well, but the kiss lacked warmth it was routine, without the love that should've been there. And truth be told, my heart wasn't in it either. How could it be, when I knew my husband was keeping things from me? The last the acted like this, it ended with Stephanie showing up and us getting divorced. So forgiveif I'm more than a little worried. Finally, I boarded the jet, and it took off.

*********** Life resumed on Monday morning, and things slowly returned to normal. It was slightly different in the sense that Ryan and I actually said a few words before I drove the boys to school.

After dropping the kids off, I made my way to the hospital and pulled into the parking lot. Walking toward the elevator, I had my eyes glued to my phone, scrolling through the news on the internet.

"Welcback, Ms. Williams." A familiar voice startled me, and I looked up to find Dr. Amell, his lips quirked in amusement. "Do I need to remind you about the dangers of walking around with your eyes glued to your phone?" he asked, clearly enjoying himself. I gave him a pointed look, choosing not to dignify that comment with a response. I stepped into the elevator, and he joined me.

"Are you ignoringafter I saved your life?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sliding my phone into my purse, I folded my arms across my chest and regarded him with suspicion. "You made it very clear that we weren't friends, Dr. Amell. So what is this behavior?" I questioned, genuinely curious.

He offered a small smile. "I saved your life," he repeated.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "Correctif I'm wrong, but isn't that part of your job description?" He chuckled, clearly amused by my irritation. "What is?" "Saving lives," I deadpanned.

He shrugged casually. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't be appreciative." I gave him an incredulous look. "I've thanked you numerous times already. What else do you want fromshould I prostrate myself?" The elevator pinged, and I let out a sigh of relief as the doors opened. I was just about to make my exit when he grabbed my forearm, stoppingin my tracks.

I looked back at him, exasperated. "Am I expecting an apology right now?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

He chuckled again. "More like a request." I blinked, taken aback. "I beg your pardon?" "I need your help with something," he said, his tone losing sof its earlier playfulness. "Consider it as you showing gratitude for saving your life." This man had an ego that truly needed studying. "Or we could just call it what it is-you asking for a favor," I countered.

He grimaced, shaking his head. "I hate owing people favors, so let's not call it that." I sighed, getting increasingly fed up. "Fine, I'll help if it's something I can actually do. Cby my office during lunch, and we'll talk." His face brightened, and he smiled widely. "Thank you." I held up a hand in warning. "But don't cempty-handed. If you're taking up my lunch break, you oweat least a meal." He chuckled. "I will." I gave him a mock salute before turning and walking away, eager to get back to work.

******** A few minutes before lunch, my secretary called to letknow that Dr. Amell had arrived. I sighed, preparing myself for whatever absurd request he was about to make, and told her to send him in. He walked in, carrying two plastic bags, his lips curling into a slight smile.

"You toldnot to cempty-handed," he said, lifting the bags.

He set them on the coffee table, and I joined him in the seating area. "So, what exactly do you need my help with, Dr. Amell?" He opened one of the bags and handeda plate of pasta with a fork. "I ordered it from my favorite restaurant." I accepted the plate with a nod of thanks, twirling spasta onto my fork. "Thank you. Now, let's hear it-what's this favor you need?" He cleared his throat, his expression growing serious. "My sister is coming back hafter a long time-thirteen years, to be exact. I want to do something special for her: redecorate her room, get her a thoughtful gift, maybe even throw a welcparty." I frowned slightly, unsure of my role in all this. "And where do I fit into that?" He looked almost sheepish. "Jean-my sister-and I have had a complicated relationship over the years, so things between us are a bit awkward." I raised an eyebrow. "And what is my involvement in all of this?" He hesitated for a moment. "I want you to helpdesign her room. I can give you her Instagram handlex so you can get an idea of her likes and dislikes. And I'd also like you to helppick out a gift, and maybe plan the welcparty-invite sof your friends to make the place lively." I blinked, momentarily stunned by the request. "First of all, I'm a doctor, not an interior decorator. I think it's best if you hire someone for that But I can help you pick out a gift-no big deal there. As for the party, wouldn't it make more sense for her friends or your family to be there?" His shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked uncomfortable. "Jean is the only family I have left. She's been away for thirteen years, so she doesn't have any friends here." I hesitated. "What about your friends?" He shook his head. "I don't really have friends. I prefer to keep my circle small." "Well, that makes two of us. I don't have anyone I could invite," I said.

He shifted in his seat, looking almost desperate. "What if you cwith your husband and kids? Jean loves children."

I almost laughed at the thought. "Ryan would never cto ao m stranger's housewarming party. He's far too busy for that."

He chuckled, though it was filled with a hint of defeat. "I wouldn't either, but I'm desperate." He set his plate down, looking atearnestly. "What if you attended, then?" I paused. "Me?" "Please," he said, his tone softening.

I shrugged. "I'll think about it and get back to you." He smiled knowingly. "That sounds a lot like a no." "I'm not making any commitments right now," I said. "So, all I have to do is help you pick a gift, right?" He shook his head. "And help with her room. I'm not comfortable letting a stranger into my home." I frowned slightly. "I am still a stranger." "Whose life I saved," he pointed out.

Rolling my eyes, I finally gave in. "Fine. I'll help you decorate her room and pick a gift." "And plan her welcparty," he added.

I glared at him. "I said I'd think about attending." "That's for attending," he corrected. "This is for the planning." "Fine," I relented.

He grinned, a look of genuine gratitude crossing his features. "Thank you so much." He glanced! over at my desk. "Your phone's been buzzing on the table. You might want to check that." I hurried over to my desk, picking up my phone. Five missed calls from Ryan.