Page 89 of See My Words

Rylan squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. “Will you—will you let him in? I’ll be out in a minute.”

He fled to the bedroom to gather his composure, leaning against the dresser and staring into the mirror. Jesus Christ, he looked like something the cat not only dragged in but mauled in the process. His hair was oily and flattened in several spots, his eyes stark in his abnormally pale face. There was a dark bruise on his cheekbone he could only attribute to his tumble down the stairs, and his bottom lip was cracked.

He sucked on it, but only succeeded in opening the crack back up, another bead of blood welling in it. Rylan tilted his head back toward the ceiling, drawing in deep breaths, before leaving the room and making his way back down the hall, feeling every bit like a man being sent to face a firing squad.

Scott and Chris were in the tiny foyer, Chris leaning against the wall with his hands jammed in his pockets. Scott looked as awful as Rylan felt, his jaw shadowed with stubble, green eyes haunted.

“Rylan, I—how are you feeling?”

“Like shit at the moment, but I’ll be okay after I get some sleep.”

They stared at each other as the silence stretched. Rylan waited for Scott to say something else, and when he didn’t, moved into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. He’d just opened his mouth to offer everyone some when he felt Scott come up behind him and settle his hands on his shoulders.

“Oh, Ry. I’m—I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry. For what I said, the way I behaved. I didn’t mean any of it, and I wish I knew why—” He broke off, his breathing ragged.

The events of the night, the physical and emotional exhaustion swamping him, made Rylan feel like he was underwater. He wanted to lean back against Scott but forced himself to remain upright.

Scott squeezed his shoulders. “You deserve more than this, Ry. So much more.” A pause, and then he said, so faintly Rylan had to strain to hear it, “I have no idea how to have a healthy relationship with you.”

Rylan turned and Scott let his hands slide away, leaving a lingering warmth behind.

“Healthy relationships don’t just spring up out of the ground, Scott. We make our mistakes together and learn from them, grow from them. We fight for it. For us.”

Scott shook his head. “But you’re the only one fighting, baby, while I just sit here and use you as my emotional punching bag. Over and over and over.”

As Rylan opened his mouth to reply, he caught a glimpse of two large duffles stacked neatly near the front door. His duffles. Scott followed his gaze, and when he looked back at him, his eyes held a resignation that tore at Rylan’s insides.

“So, what, you’re just going to—give up?” Rylan croaked. “Tell me I’m not worth the effort anymore?”

Scott gave a muffled exclamation, taking him by the shoulders again. “Rylan, no! God, no. Listen to me—”

“What more is there to say? Huh?” Rylan wrenched away. He didn’t intend to look at Scott, but he couldn’t help himself, and the way Scott’s lips were trembling tugged unwillingly at Rylan’s heartstrings. He slumped. “What do you want from me, Scott?”

“I want you to try to understand—”

“Understand what? That when things get rough, you check out? Believe me, I hear you loud and clear.” He slammed his fist down on the countertop, sending the coffee mug skittering into the sink. “Jesus, Scott! For the last time, stop deciding for me what I do and don’t deserve! I love you just the way you are.”

“But I don’t.” Scott’s voice was hoarse, throbbing with pain. “Don’t you get it? I’m just like—like her. Self-destructive, sabotaging everything. Unless I take some time to figure my shit out, I’m going to keep on hurting you and hurting you until someday you’ll end up hating me.” He touched Rylan’s cheek with shaking fingers. “And that will fucking kill me.”

Rylan kept his voice steady with an effort. “So I repeat, what do you want from me?”

Scott stroked his thumb over the bruise on Rylan’s cheekbone. “I want you to go to Africa with Chris.” That was the last thing Rylan expected him to say, and he caught his breath. Scott rushed on before he could speak. “Go with him. Take this amazing opportunity you’re being given, Rylan, and for once in your life, put yourself first. Not your mom, not your dad, not Gabriel, not—not me.”

He dropped his hand to his side. “Afterward, if you still want me, we’ll—I don’t know what we’ll do. Please, Rylan, just go. I need for you to go.”

He turned away, and Rylan squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch Scott walk out of his life again. He heard the door close with a gentle click, and suddenly Chris was there, a warm, comforting presence.

“Oh, Chris, he—”

“It’s going to be okay.” Chris slid his arm around Rylan’s shoulders. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but that man just told you how much he loves you.”

“Are you crazy? How? By telling me to leave him?” Rylan tried to pull away, but Chris tightened his arm.

“Yes. By asking for time and space to work on himself. By saying he doesn’t want to use you as his emotional crutch anymore.”

“But I can handle that! I can handle him.” Rylan pushed Chris’s arm off his shoulders and strode over to the duffles, bending down to pick one up. It was heavy, and his sore muscles protested. Rylan gave it a frustrated kick, sinking down to sit on it. “I’m not leaving him.”

Chris came over and crouched in front of him. “You know him better than I do, and of course you have to use your best judgment. Just make sure you’re really listening to what he’s telling you, Ry.”