Divided in Love | Ryemm Drabble
Ryan runs a hand raggedly through his hair as he apparates in front of his manor home with too many things circling in his head. How is he supposed to face the reality of this decision. Each footstep feels like lead and it feels as if it takes longer than it should have to reach the manor doors, pushing them open to be instantly greeted by the loud crack of an apparating house elf.
“Master, Madam be waiting for you in study sir!” the head house elf squeaks.
“Thank you,” he responds mechanically with a wave of his hand. The elf departs with another echoing crack and it’s only after the silence settles back into his ears that Ryan begins the walk to the study as the elf informed him. It would be easiest to fall into his bed and ignore his wife, to try sleeping this new problem off and pretending as if nothing happened. However, he knows that the sooner he speaks to Isabella, the sooner he will know what it is he should do.
Ryan pushes his way into the study on the first floor and finds his wife sitting in a wing-backed chair, legs crossed in an elegant yet simple gown. Her dark hair is down, flowing around her shoulders freely and her expression seems relaxed. Ryan knows better. Isabella has always been great at shielding her emotions.
“Evening,” she says with a small smile. “How was your day at work?”
“Aggravating, as usual,” Ryan answers back. It’s the same lines they’ve spoken repeatedly over the course of their year and half long marriage. “And how has your day been?”
“How has Nico been? Teeth still giving him pains?”
Isabella nods slowly and sighs. “He spent more time crying and throwing things than anything else. If he wasn’t having a fit he was crawling nearly too quickly for me to follow. Thankfully the governess was useful for that.”
The woman stands and comes toward him. “Something’s troubling you, Ryan.”
Closing his eyes, Ryan wishes he had the talent to shield his emotions the way he once did as a child. Something was broken in that ability the moment he got too involved with the muggles during that school trip. A heavy sigh rushes out of his nose and his eyes fly open when Isabella’s fingers touch his arm.
“Ry, if there’s one good thing about our marriage it’s that we can talk openly with one another. Did you go see Emmaline?”
It’s unfair that his wife is so understanding. They are good friends and that makes this situation that much harder. “I did,” he replies after a moment’s pause.
“Ryan look at me, really look at me,” the woman insists and with no other choice, Ryan does as she commands. Meeting her dark gaze with his own lighter one, he has a moment to wish that those deep brown eyes were several shades lighter with a piercing shade. “I’m not oblivious. Give me some credit. You’re in love with her, I can see it. I’ve seen it for awhile now.”
This isn’t what he expected to hear come from his wife. Gaping at Isabella, Ryan fails to speak but she smirks and speaks again, saving him the trouble. “Don’t look so shocked, dear. I’m your wife, a Slytherin, and a woman. So have you told her?”
Ryan shakes his head slowly, frowning deeply.
“And why not?” Her tone implies that it should be a simple matter of opening his mouth and letting the words slip off his tongue.
“Why not?” His brows furrow. “It’s not that simple, Iz. Not that easy. And she just told me—”
He falters, unable to speak the words now that he’s face to face with his wife.
“Told you what?” Isabella prompts him.
“She’s pregnant.” The words hang in the air once they leave Ryan’s mouth and he can’t take them back now, he has to face her reaction.
Isabella blinks once, twice, and then her eyebrows rise high toward her impeccable hairline. “From the look on your face, she’s claiming it’s your child then?”
With a sharp nod, Ryan elaborates, “There’s no chance it’s anyone else’s.” His tone explains everything hidden behind the simple statement and Isabella’s eyes widen further as she comprehends what this means.
“Well,” she says after a moment of thought, “You’re finally getting the family you wanted, Ry. You should look happier about it.” She offers him a small smile and then steps away from him back toward the chair she’d occupied. She reaches into the drawer on the table beside the seat and draws out a stoppered carafe of aged scotch, followed by two glass tumblers.
“I think this calls for a toast, don’t you?” There’s a new gleam in her gaze as she looks expectantly at Ryan who stands stock still.
“Iz, what are you thinking?” he questions with furrowed brow.
The woman rolls her eyes and speaks as if her husband is mentally impaired. “Ryan, this couldn’t be a better way for things to go. You can be happy with Emmaline and your new child on the way. I can go on with my own life and we’ll still be there for Nico.”
“Are you seriously suggestion what I think you are?”
“Please, don’t tell me it hasn’t already crossed your mind.” Isabella looks at him for a moment, evaluating his expression before nodding sharply once. “Of course you did. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“Our families?” Isabella interjects as she pops the crystal stopper off the bottle and begins to pour liberally into each tumbler. “We’re adults in an adult marriage and we have the power to decide for ourselves if it’s worth it to remain as such. We both entered into this agreeing that if either of felt it wasn’t working to our advantage we’d agree on the right solution.”
The man has no idea how to respond. Despite how reasonable he and his wife have been with each other throughout their marriage, he never expected her to be so quick to suggest divorce. Blinking slowly, Ryan watches as Isabella advances toward him again, holding out one of the beverages to him. He takes it carefully between trembling fingers and her brown gaze holds him in place as she steps even closer than before. Slender fingers rise to rest gently against his cheek in such a comforting gesture that he fails to speak yet again.
When Isabella speaks again, her words are soft in the dimly lit study. “You and I have never been in love. We’ve both been living according to society, letting our families and our daft purity dictate our existences. I know you gave up on Emmaline once before but I’m not going to let you continue to hold on to false ideals. You and I both deserve to love and be loved, no matter who that person is. Live for yourself and take back your special brand of selfishness we all know and gripe about. I’ll do the same and in the end, we and our son will be far happier off for it.”
Ryan isn’t expecting the tender touch of her lips against his. It’s nothing like the kisses he cherishes from Emmaline, not even close, but it’s no less welcome. The friendly affection inherent in the contact allows her words to sink in more easily. What she’s said is true and it’s what he wants. It truly is. But to go against his parents, to publically dismiss Pureblood culture by filing a divorce and then announcing a sudden marriage to a muggle woman, carrying his child out of wedlock; Ryan isn’t certain his parents will ever speak to him again.
Isabella’s kiss does more than comfort him, however. It bolsters his courage, aids his selfish pride, and makes him certain that he can face whatever disappointment or anger his parents may throw his way.
“Are we in agreement now?” she asks softly as she draws back and searches his face for the answer.
His soon-to-be-ex-wife lets a pleased grin curve her lips upward. She is beautiful, that was never something Ryan doubted but it’s not what he wants and he’s certain of it now. “Good,” she says with emphasis. “Now drink while I explain to you what it was I originally invited you up here to talk about.”
Ryan does as he’s told and listens as his wife explains her intention to take a two week vacation with his sister Cassandra, Alice Longbottom, and her new sister-in-law Mackenzie Zabini. She points out that this vacation couldn’t be coming at a more convenient time. With his sister preoccupied, he can go through with the divorce papers speedily and hope that Emmaline will accept his proposal all before the girls return. By then, everything set in motion, no one will have much to argue with him about.
“And we can get the divorce pushed through on such short notice?” Ryan questions.
“Arrangements can be made, Ryan,” Isabella states slowly. “Of course, the finalisation may not come for another month but we aren’t doing anything by the books anymore.”
“Of course,” he murmurs over the lip of his glass. Isabella always seems to be so certain of every word she says. Rarely unruffled by anything and often already aware of what others will say before they form the thoughts themselves. It’s one thing he has always equally admired and found infuriating about her. “And what about Nico?”
“He’s our child and I intend to keep it that way but he’s young enough that this shouldn’t come as a shock to him at all. Chances are he’ll be elated to have two mothers instead of one, the greedy thing he is.” With an amused grin she adds, “Just like his father.”
Ryan gives a chuckle as he looks over at Isabella, taking a sip from his glass of scotch. Everything will be just fine. He believes that now. He has to. All their plans could go terribly awry the moment Emmaline refuses his proposal but at least he’s going to try. Now all he has to do is figure out just how he’s going to achieve that. There’s one thing for certain, he’s going to need help to do this right. Luckily, his wife is a friend first and foremost so she holds no objections to assisting him in choosing the right ring and the right words for this plan of action.
