“But you swore you wouldn’t hurt me before and you did.”
Lowering his head slightly to look into my eyes straight on, he affirms, “I love you. God, I love you so much.”
He moves his head in slowly. I can smell his sweet minty breath. I’ve missed that smell. His lips barely skim mine when I pull back slightly.
“I’m moving,” I say on a hush.
Lifting his head up, he looks at me with his brows knitted together.
“I got a job. I’m moving to New York in two weeks.”
He looks down and shakes his head slowly as I say, “You can’t kiss me.” My cries begin to intensify. “If you do . . . I’ll never want to leave you.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
“Ryan . . . I just can’t. I’m too scared you’ll hurt me again. I just need to be on my own. I’ve been working so hard to pull myself out of the hell I’ve been living in.”
“I know you have. I ask Jase about you all the time. He’s told me how well you’re doing. I just wish I could be around to see it, babe.” He chokes on his words and drops his head. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are rimmed with tears. “All I ever wanted was for you to be okay, to be happy.”
“I’m okay,” I affirm.
We sit there while time slowly passes. I thought I would always be with Ryan. I thought he was it for me. I wanted him to be it for me. A part of me stills does, but I push that part deep down, because it hurts to feel it. I love Ryan. Despite everything that happened, I still love him. I’m not sure how long it will take for these feelings to fade, but I really wish they would because missing him is excruciating.
“Do you think you could drive me home?” I ask after a while.
“Yeah,” he whispers, and I know he doesn’t want to.
He helps me into his jeep and drives me the few minutes to my house. When he pulls into my driveway, he asks, “Can I walk you in?”
“Ryan,” I sigh out.
He nods his head, understanding that I don’t think it’s a good idea.
When I grab the handle to open the door, he says, “I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”
I turn my head back to look at him, and I know my face is reflecting the pain that is wracking me as my tears fall. I nod my head, my only way of letting him know I feel the same way toward him. I can’t speak. I don’t know how. My sobs start to break through when I open the door and walk away from the only person I never wanted to walk away from.
?????
Leaving Ryan last night was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I sit up in my bed and look at the chaos in my room. All my belongings are strewn all over the place. I feel like this room is a reflection of how I feel inside: chaotic. I need order in my life. I resolve to pull my life together and move forward, starting with this room.
I spend the day packing and sorting. By late afternoon, I can finally see the floor again when I stack all of the boxes along one of the walls. When my phone chirps at me, I read a text from Roxy.
Drinks?
When and where?
Prime. 7:00?
Perfect.
I hop in the shower to wash all the grime from packing off of me. After drying my hair and putting on a little makeup, I slip on a pair of dark wash jeans and a short-sleeved black peplum top.
When I walk into Prime, I am relieved to see that it’s not too busy. I still tend to get nervous around crowds, especially since I don’t have Jase or Ryan with me, but Roxy is already there, with her newly platinum blonde hair, waiting for me with a martini in hand. I smile at her appearance as she places her bright red lips on the glass and takes a sip, while all of her colorful tattoos are exposed on her sleeveless arms.
“Hey, hun,” she says as I take a seat next to her at the bar.
“You been waiting long?”
“No, just got here.”
I order a glass of red wine and Roxy asks, “So, are you all packed?”
“Pretty much. I spent all day working on my room.”
She scans my face and says, “It shows. You look like shit, girl.”
“Thanks,” I chuckle.
The bartender sets my wine down in front of me, and I pick it up to take a long sip.
“Thirsty?”
Setting the glass down, I open up to Roxy about last night.
“It’s really over with Ryan,” I sigh.
“What?”
Resting my elbow on the bar, Roxy does the same when I start, “Yeah. I saw him last night. It was awful.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, really. I mean nothing was really said that wasn’t said months ago. He did say that he wanted to go to New York with me.”
“God, he really loves you.”
“I really love him too. But I can’t go back there again. Besides, New York is my dream, and if I didn’t go, I would always be wondering ‘what if.’”
She leans back and takes another sip of her drink. “That’s understandable.”
Last week I decided to tell Roxy about Jack. My therapist told me that the more I deal with it, the easier it will become, and the less power it will hold over me. She’s right. It was hard, but not unbearable. I did it, and I was okay.
“Jack’s dead,” I slip out.
Almost choking on her martini, she shouts, “What?!”