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“I am.”
“Suck it up,” he says. “There are consequences for being a whore. You're lucky your only consequences are a few hurt feelings. It could be much worse.” He pulls his hand away and straightens his suit. What are these much worse consequences Ryan mentions? Is there really any worse consequence than your fiancé having so little respect for you he drugs you and calls you a whore? What could really be worse than this?
Luke shakes his head as if to say, really, are you going to put up with that? I shake my head. I'm not. Not anymore.
“I'm not a whore,” I say.
“You fucked another man. What do you call that?”
“I'm not a whore.”
“What do you call it, Alyssa?”
“I'
m sorry I cheated on you. And I'm sorry I hid it from you. I really wish I'd told you the truth. But I'm not sorry I slept with him. I'm not sorry that I love him.”
“He's not going to take you back.”
“Maybe not.”
“He's not going to take care of you the way I do,” Ryan says.
“Good,” I say. “I don't want you to take care of me. I don't want you.”
Suddenly, I'm aware of eyes on us. Half the party is watching this conversation. All of Ryan's friends are watching this conversation.
“Keep your voice down,” he says.
“So it's okay for you to scream about how I'm a whore as long as your friends don't overhear?”
“You're mad, fine. Are you going to fuck another one of my colleagues just to prove a point? Are you going to take home the next guy who gives you a little attention?”
“I fucked him because I wanted him, not because of some attention. And I kept fucking him because he was good. No, because he was great.” I can only imagine the smug look on Luke's face. “And I spent all that time with him because I love him. I love him more than I've ever loved you.”
“You'll be dead in six months without me.”
“Better than six months with you,” I say. I pull my engagement ring off my finger and press it into his palm.
“Alyssa, stop,” he says. “We can talk about this.”
“No, we can't. We've never talked about anything. You've talked and I've listened. That's it.” I turn to the crowd, avoiding meeting any particular person’s gaze. There are too many people. I can't see Luke.
“Alyssa,” Ryan says. “You can't do this to me. You can't embarrass me like this.” I feel his arm on my wrist. I shake him off and push past the crowd.
I spot Luke on my way out the door. He's looking at me with some kind of inscrutable expression.
Maybe there's still a chance.
Chapter 36
Everything is quiet outside. The gentle waves of the marina lap against the docks. I stand on the boardwalk, my hands pressed into the cold, turquoise railing, under the soft, yellow glow of a streetlight.
It's over. Those months stuck in Ryan's apartment, convincing myself I needed him, convincing myself I loved him. No, that's not right. I did need him. I did need him to protect me, to keep me safe in the prison of his apartment, tucked away from any experience that could make me feel.
I'm free.
I'm free to chase my own life again, to pull together or fall apart on my own.
