From crazily childish to adorably sulky. 

Ryan's fists clenched, and his jaws ticked when he realized he might never get his hands on that diary again. He had always thought he would have at least had something left —something to prove that they existed, even if only in memories. That if he hadn't messed it all up, they could have ended up beautifully together. 

But now, even that one fragile thread was gone. 

Why? 

Why wasn't he allowed to keep even the smallest trace of her? 

Was he really that undeserving? 

"Son —" 

"Mom," he cut her off —for the first time —and his voice was uncharacteristically sharp. "I had just that one diary with me. Do you really have to be so cruel?" 

Cruel!

The words hit Beca harder than she expected. She blinked, stunned. No — she had never wanted to be cruel. Not to her son. Never. 

"Ryan, I am your mother," she said softly. "How could I ever be cruel to you?"