Chapter 29 Ryder smiled faintly."Hold on tight." Me:"..." Perhaps because of this morning, my mind felt a little off. I thought his words held another meaning, but I held onto his neck. He walked slowly. Despite the winding mountain path, I felt comfortable. The wind occasionally blew my hair onto his neck and face. After last night, our interaction felt less stiff than our first meeting three years ago. I enjoyed the scenery, asking him about the past three years - about General Ryder, the neighbors, even the big black dog I disliked. I purposely avoided his personal life. He answered calmly. "Dad wasn't angry. He misses you, often talks about you." "The neighbors ask about you, especially Mrs. Gable." The dog is well-behaved now. No more barking." It felt bittersweet, realizing how much had changed. "And you? How were the past three years?" Ryder asked. I paused."Good. I'm doing what I love, and I'm happy. I've learned so much. I won two awards - for my advanced medical device and a new fiber technology." I chattered excitedly, like a cat seeking praise. Ryder listened patiently. But when I mentioned Ethan Fuller repeatedly, his heart tightened. He lifted me slightly. The sudden movement interrupted me. I frowned."Uncle, what's wrong?" Ryder said seriously, "The ground is slippery." I didn't think much of it, but then he asked,"Claire, did you think of me during these three years?" I paused, ignoring the question. A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a smile. He changed the subject. "I learned to sing. Want to hear?" I was surprised; I'd never heard him sing before. I'd pestered him, but he always avoided it. I blinked."Let's hear it." Ryder cleared his throat, his voice clear and resonant. MU heart He'd heard a comrade sing it during a mission; the comrade was getting married and wanted to sing to his wife. Ryder had been forced to listen for a week. He remembered our wedding night - my lovely face under the veil, his anger over societal expectations. Our wedding night was empty, and I was heartbroken. He now berated himself. He finished, asking, "How was it? Good?" "Okay." It was decent; at least it wasn't bad. I noticed his flushed ears and neck. He only got this red when I'd angered him. What was going on? I plucked a flower from my wreath, tickling his neck. His ears reddened further; his heart fluttered. His voice was husky."Want to hear more?" "Yes." I answered casually, continuing to tickle his ears. "Then call me Gesang." "Gesang." I called out readily. His heart felt full. He cleared his throat and continued to sing. He walked slowly, gazing into the distance, hoping this road would never end.