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"Such a pathetic mess?"
"Don't do this to yourself," he says. It's almost kind. Like he really cares about my mental health.
"So you were waiting until I'd blossom into a good trophy wife."
"Partially," he says. "But I did care about you. I'd be an idiot not to realize you're beautiful and a bigger idiot not to realize you'd make an excellent wife."
"What kind of sixteen-year-old thinks about his future wife?"
"I told you. I wanted to help you. I didn't think about marrying you until we were both in L.A. It only seemed natural then. You needed my help, and I needed someone too."
"Someone to show off."
"So what? You needed someone to take care of you. I needed someone to show off. It was a mutually beneficial relationship."
I take a deep breath. "I'm not hearing a lot about how you truly loved me."
"I'm not going to insult your intelligence. I loved you, yes, but our relationship was never about love." His voice gets softer. "Maybe that was wrong. If you are in love now, I'm glad. I do want the best for you."
"Why are you being nice to me?"
"It's the least I can do."
The room is spinning around me, but I'm sure it's because it's so damn early, because I've barely slept. "Would you have been with me if I wasn't be
autiful?"
There's a pause. Finally a question Ryan doesn't have the answer to. I almost forgot how hard he is to rattle.
"No," he says. "I did care for you, but I have expectations to live up to."
My stomach drops, but it's not like this is a revelation. Ryan always made it clear I needed to look a certain way, that I needed to play my part.
"Alyssa, you're torturing yourself. I cared about more than your looks. I still do."
"Oh, like my career? You were so supportive there."
"I was trying to help you. I pushed too hard, yes, but you must understand why. You must understand how scary it was to watch you destroy yourself."
Help. Like getting me to do everything he wanted. Like putting his career ahead of mine. Like ordering me to stay in the cocoon of our apartment so nothing would hurt me.
Nothing but him.
"I did love you."
"I heard you the first time," I say.
I press my hand against the marble counter. It's so cold. It's warm and sticky outside, but the marble is so damn cold.
"Do you really love Luke?" Ryan asks. "Are you really happy?"
"Yes."
"Then talk to him about whatever it is that's really bothering you."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Luke
