A/N: So in this book, I'm going to be telling a lot of the story with flashbacks. I thought this would be a fun way to weave in the past rather than simply having characters remembering. Hope y'all enjoy. 

P.S. Wait is finally over-y'all will learn Ro's story in this chapter!

My family passed away in an accident almost two years ago. We were headed home after dad's old bandmates concert when the accident happened. The road had been slippery that day due to the previous night's frost, but nothing too dangerous.  It iced all the time in New York; we were used to it. Or at least that's what we thought. Less than a mile from home, a drunk driver in a massive truck skidded across the road and ran a red light, colliding passenger-side into our car.

The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital room alone, with wires running in and out of my body. I would later learn that my mom, dad, and sister, Evalyn died on impact. As cruel fate would have it, the drunk driver was fine.

And my family was gone. 

I walked away from the accident with a minor fracture in my wrist and was told to be thankful by doctors, that I was some sort of miracle. But all the while, with everything I loved ripped away from me, I felt anything but grateful.

Mom and dad were musicians, mom a singer and dad a guitar player. When they met in college, they promised to never perform together, saying never ever mix business with pleasure. It was funny, because that lasted for a week before they took the stage together touring and having the time of their lives. Soon after, I popped into the picture, and then a year later Evalyn. 

Dad used to crudely joke, that business became pleasure, and pleasure business- and every time, without fail, mom smacked dad upside the head. They truly had the most authentic love. 

Mom was a beautiful woman with deep brown hair, jade green eyes, and a fiery wit. Dad was handsome, with lighter brown hair and deep blue eyes. Evalyn was the spitting image of mom, but with dad's sun-kissed locks. And then there was me; I had dad's ocean eyes, but mom's darker hair and freckles sprinkled across my face. 

Mom used to say that what connected us wasn't just family, but art. She was a bit free-spirited in her philosphoy, but I guess in this case it was true. Funny enough, Evalyn wasn't musical in any way, shape, or form, barely able to strum a guitar without popping a string. But she was always a good sport, front row at my performances, singing along, off-key might I add, but always there. Evalyn's art was painting and she was beyond incredible...

Evalyn was my best friend and she meant the world to me. They all were my world.

I don't remember crying, or screaming, or crumbling when the doctor told me they were gone. I was in shock, expecting my family to be standing behind me, all of this being some cruel joke, a nightmare. 

But it wasn't. 

As I sat in the hospital bed, staring blankly at the doctor reciting his rehearsed apologies for my loss, I silently crumbled.

And then he entered the room, grabbed my hand, promising me that he would be there.

I was seventeen and an orphan. 

He took me home that night and stayed with me. I was a shell of a person, but he stayed. I remember not wanting to be sad, that crying would mean that they wouldn't come back, that it meant they were really dead and I believed that. 

So I held back my tears and closed myself off. 

I never wanted him to pity me, so I never let him see me cry. During those early nights, I used to stand outside and silently cry, wishing they had taken me with them or at least taken me instead, because being without them, was a loneliness I couldn't survive. 

He tried to be there for a little while, trying to remind me of the music, of the laughs, the good memories. He said that they were still there, watching down on me, supporting me, with me. And most of all, he promised that he would always be there, that I would never be alone.

But then he chose to abandon me.

And a week later, after I lost my family and myself, he was gone too. 

But, for him, I never let myself cry.

 After two years, he was standing before me, asking me to say hello. 

Ryder Blake Daniels was here.

He looked the same, but a bit older, more worn out. His green eyes with specks of gold glistened, even at night. His chestnut brown hair was disheveled and a 5 o'clock shadow was evident on his face. His jaw was still sharp, making him heartbreakingly handsome. He had on a hoodie and track pants, casual, yet he still looked cool. 

That was always the thing about Ryder, he was always effortless, with his look, music, and feelings...

"Checking me out Ro?" his voice interrupted my thoughts.

The nerve of this guy. He left me when I was broken. He had been gone for almost two years. He hijacked my performance. And now he stood before me, with his conceited ass.

Before I could stop myself, I slammed my car door and swiftly turned my head towards him. "I will never look at you with anything but contempt," I snarked.

He snickered, running his hand through his soft hair. "Same Rosie, same, but don't lie, I know you missed me."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Ryder." His name felt strange on my lips, almost foreign, reminding me that he was a stranger.

"You were a bit pitchy in there. Lucky I rescued you, otherwise, it would have been really bad," he smirked.

Again this asshole ego. "Who do you think you are?" I yelled. I was furious, angry, betrayed by him. The pain of the past came back every time I looked at him, and his stupid jokes reminded me that he never cared.

He was looking at me now. It wasn't like in the coffee bar where our eyes had locked, no this time he was observing me like he was trying to take all of me in, like he was seeing me for the first time.

"You've changed. The old Rosie was sweet. Who are you? And what happened?" He retorted

"When did you become such a jerk?" I demanded.

"When you turned into a brat. Seriously, Rosie, this is how you welcome me back?" he joked.

"I don't want you to be back. What did you think I would do, throw you a parade-I didn't even know you would be back."

He seemed genuinely shocked by what I said. He began to say, "I thought someone would have mentioned that I was coming to town. Damn, I guess we were all surprised..." he said to himself.

"I don't understand what's happening, but it doesn't matter. We should stay away from each other. I don't have anything more to say to you. Bye Ryder." 

I was hoping that by walking away, we wouldn't have to repeat history. Even just looking at him, brought back memories, memories that were being tainted.

"Wait, Rosie...!" Ryder called.

"Stop calling me Rosie, its Ro! It hasn't been Rosie for a long time now. Better yet, don't talk to me. You asked why I'm not sweet anymore Ryder. Newsflash, life got shitty, real fast. So I had to toughen up, or do you not remember? At least now I can deal with jerks like you..." I responded.

His eyes darkened at my comment as he began to remember the past and my shit life. He seemed less angry and more pitiful, but that was almost worse. His pity was like a punch to the gut, taking my breath away and stopping my heart.

"Rosie, I'm sorry-" He started, but before he could continue, I stopped him.

"Stop. I don't want your pity. Just forget it." I turned around to walk away when I felt an arm grab for mine.

"What happened to us?" he asked.

At first, I thought he was joking, but then I saw his face. Genuinely confused, he pleaded with his eyes, desperately trying to discern my hatred. How could he not know that he broke us, that he left, and that everything I loved was gone? How would he not know that he stole my heart and broke it?

"You broke us." I barely whispered it, but with only the both us in the darkened parking lot, he heard. 

"Why are you back?" I begged. His hand was still around my wrist, clamped down hard, almost as if he was scared of letting go.

He reached for my face, gently brushing back the hairs that were floating in the wind. It was then that I realized that I missed him, his touch, his smile, his voice... 

He was confused, sad, angry, and sorry, but only for a moment. Because then, his playboy smile appeared on his face and he winked. "For you Rosie, for you."

Okay!!!!! What?!!! Ryder, do we love him, hate him, ambivalent?! Ro and Ry, what do we hope for?!!! :o!