he said gently,
“let’s get you cleaned up.”
He escorted me to the women’s restroom, somehow managing to find hair ties and wet towels. While I scrubbed frosting from my face and hair, he stood guard outside the door.
“I won’t ever let anyone treat you like that,”
he said quietly when I emerged.
“And you know, if Dad were here, he would have done the exact same thing.”
At that point, I looked at Ryan. His knuckles were still clenched, and his jaw was still tight with protective anger. This was my brother, standing up for me when I couldn’t stand up for myself.
“Thank you,”
I whispered, meaning it more than I’d ever meant anything.
“You did the right thing, Ryan. Despite everything that just happened, you stood up for me when I couldn’t stand up for myself. I’ll never forget what you did for me today. Thank you so much, really.”
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