Xena''s POV
"I didn''t say that,” I annotinced, pulling my helmet off as we approached the construction site. The air was filled with the sound of drills, saws, and the scent of sawdust. In the distance, we could see the top of the building taking shape against the sky.
"Oh?" Ryder''s response was casual, but I could tell he was waiting for me to borate.
We began walking up the slope towards the site. I just meant that when we go on trips, we can take the motorcycle, Honestly, 1
mother said." wasn''t giving much thought to what your
"Okay."
"What do you think we should do?" I asked, looking up at him.
"That''s entirely up to you." Ryder wasn''t budging. His words were like a wall, pushing all responsibility back to me.
"This is something we should decide together," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, hoping he would understand my desire for joint decision-making.
"No, it''s not. Since I''ve known you, you''ve done things your way. If I said, we''re doing it this way, you would immediately pull back. No, I know you. You need to do things your way, in your own time. That''s why I was upset when my mom brought it up."
I stared at him in surprise, but he kept walking forward. I didn''t respond, just silently followed behind him. What he said was true. Many times I thought I''d changed, but I hadn''t at all. I fucking hate this.
We reached the metal fence surrounding their construction site. Ryder walked straight past the warning signs and approached a trailer where a generator was running. After knocking once on the door, he walked right in.
"Who in the fu- Mr. Nash. I didn''t know you wereing today." The burly man inside had an angry expression that instantly transformed into respectful deference when he saw Ryder. He extended his hand to shake Ryder''s first. "Mr. Roderick, this is my wife, Xena." The word ''wife'' made my heart skip a beat.
I could sense Mr. Roderick was human. "Hello," I said, extending my hand. He shook it, but seemed annoyed. His grip was ufortable, but I maintained my smile.
"I didn''t know you were married," he said, looking directly at Ryder. His belly hung over his jeans, somehow held up by suspenders.
"You never asked. I''m here to check on progress. How are weing along? I''d like a tour, thank you." Ryder''s voice carried undeniable authority.
"Of course." Mr. Roderick grabbed his baseball cap and led us outside. I followed just a step behind, observing everything. "We''vepleted all the framing."
There were blueprints nearby. While Ryder and Mr. Roderick discussed the joints, I quietly slipped over to examine them. Themunity center was massive. ording to the ns, there would be a central space the size of a football field that could be divided into two separate areas if needed. Each side was symmetrical in terms of bathrooms, open spaces, and overallyout. It wasn''t until I looked at the loft and roof structure that I noticed something was wrong.
"Ryder?" I called out, still studying the blueprints.
Both men immediately stopped talking and turned to me. "What is it? A flicker of confusion crossed Ryder''s eyes, but his tone was filled with trust.
"I think we have a problem. I turned back to the blueprints and pulled out the roof design.
"What problem? Ryder moved closer to me.
"The angles. They won''t support the weight of the space."
"Impossible! We''ve calcted these numbers multiple times! Mr. Roderick immediately became defensive. His reaction was expected; nobody likes having mistakes pointed out, especially in their area of expertise.
"I have no doubt you did the calctions. I''m just saying the proportion of space between each arch, plus the type of connecting joints you''re using. Those thin connections on, this type of wood wont handle any kind of pressure. Like snow or a mom full of people. I can almost guarantee you''ll see failures here and here. I pointed to two different locations that concerned me most. "Probably more." My voice grew increasingly firm.