They Switched My Groom—So I Kept Him Chapter 08
Ryan changed topics so abruptly that I didn’t understand at first.
Then he explained.
“You have face blindness. If I dye my hair, you’ll be able to pick me out of a crowd.”
I froze.
Ethan had once done the same thing for me.
From high school through college, his hair had always been the brightest, most unusual color on campus so I could spot him immediately.
At some point after graduation, he’d dyed it black again.
“I have a real job now,” he’d said. “People will think I look unprofessional if I show up to work with crazy-colored hair.”
The explanation had seemed reasonable, so I hadn’t argued.
I never expected that years later, another man would say the same thing Ethan once had.
By the time I came back to myself, Ryan had already pulled me into a salon to choose a color.
I pointed to one almost jokingly.
“Ice blue. You have fair skin. It would look good on you.”
I had ulterior motives.
The color was outrageous. I didn’t really think he’d agree.
But Ryan lit up.
“Seriously? Then that’s the one I want.”
I stared at him.
“Wait. If you actually dye it that color, people are going to think you look unprofessional.”
He shrugged.
“I’m not doing it for them. Why should I care what they think? As long as you like it, that’s enough. And if anyone says I look immature, I’ll take it as a compliment that I look young.”
He really did walk out of the salon later with a head of ice-blue hair.
He turned toward me proudly.
“Well? Is it what you pictured?”
I nodded.
It was definitely impossible to miss.
By early evening, Ryan finally brought me home with him.
His mother had already made dinner and was waiting for us.
The moment she saw his bright blue hair, she nearly jumped.
“What possessed you to dye your hair that color?”
Ryan ran a smug hand through it.
“Claire picked it. Cool, right?”
“Very cool. Now move. You’re blocking Claire from coming inside.”
The awkwardness dissolved a little.
Ryan carried my luggage into his bedroom.
“If you’re not comfortable sharing a bed with me, I’ll put pillows down the middle. You can have one side, I’ll take the other. You can use the bathroom in here. I’ll use the guest bath.”
He’d thought through everything.
I didn’t argue.
It wasn’t until around nine that night that Ethan called again.
He had probably just returned from the hospital and noticed my luggage was gone from the apartment we’d planned to share.
“You actually packed up and went to Ryan’s place? Send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
I checked the number on the screen to make sure it was really Ethan.
Then I hung up and blocked him.
A few minutes later, messages from my parents started coming in.
Not one asked whether I had somewhere safe to stay.
They were accusations from beginning to end.
If it weren’t for you, Sophie’s asthma wouldn’t have flared up.
She’s still in the hospital.
I don’t know how I raised such a cruel daughter.
Do you have any idea what the whole family is saying about us now?
I listened to every voice message, one by one, almost like I was punishing myself.
Then I replied.
From now on, Sophie can be your daughter.
And don’t expect me to keep taking care of you.