Page 90 of Say it Ain’t So

JOSS

The moment I walked in through my apartment door, the tears I’d barely been holding back came flooding out. I stumbled across the room, dropping my bag to the floor as I went, and slammed my shin into my stupid table in my effort to fall face-first onto my couch. I cried huge, ugly sobs; the same I’d let fall when I’d gotten out of the hospital after my car accident and realized I had nothing left. I’d let myself get so wrapped up in Peter that, when he was gone, when I was finally free, I wasn’t sure who I was.

I promised myself I’d never do that again. I’d never let a man bring me down to the point where I’d lost myself. But I was so lost in Rylan and his needs that I didn’t know how to breathe without him. And when he turned from the happy-go-lucky man I fell in love with to the grouchy guy too wrapped up in his pain and his failures to find even an ounce of joy, it began to feel like I couldn’t breathe with him either.

In my heart, I knew Rylan would never physically hurt me. When he jolted awake and slammed his hand into my leg, I brushed it off as the accident it was. But then his poor attitude got involved, and my brain couldn’t stop the spiral of my thoughts as I remembered exactly what living with Peter had been like.

Nitpicking had turned to insult. Insult had turned into hate. And hate had led his fists to pound into my face, his feet to kick my ribs, his hands to wrap around my throat and strangle me until I thought I would die.

Rylan wouldn’t do that. I knew that.

But the broken girl Peter left behind wouldn’t listen. Not when he acted that way.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, I turned my head to the side and searched for my fish tank through watery eyes. I needed the peace watching my critters always brought me. The same peace I’d run from Rylan’s apartment trying to find. I’d barely been home since he came back from the hospital, and the constant doing was eating at me.

Eventually, I sat up. I moved closer to my tank. I watched the fish swim back and forth. I even smiled when Clyde poked his head out of his hiding spot, and I somehow found laughter when Gary climbed from the glass and rode the surface tension of the water, hanging upside down.

I found my peace, but it was shattered by my ringing cell phone.

After grabbing my bag from where I left it on the floor, I plopped back down on the couch and dug through the pockets until I found my phone. I was tempted to turn it off, to let it roll to voicemail—I couldn’t take Rylan yelling at me again. But when I saw Van’s name on the screen, I swiped my finger across it and pulled my phone to my ear.

“Do you realize how long it’s been since you actually answered my call?” he said by way of greeting. “I was starting to think you were ignoring me.”

A smile curled my lips as I pulled my feet up on the cushion beside me. “You caught me. How did you know?”

“How did I know? That you were going to answer this time or that you’re ignoring me? Because honestly, I didn’t expect you to answer.”

“I’m sorry.”

Van scoffed, but there was no escaping the humor in his voice. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either. I can’t dance for shit and you’re obviously better at ax throwing than me. I don’t bring a lot to this relationship, obviously.”

“Van,” I said, unable to hide my laughter, “you bring a lot to this relationship.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm.” I licked my thumb and dragged it over the cut on my shin, wiping away a small streak of blood. “You’re pretty decent at driving me around in bad weather⁠—”

“Decent?”

“And you always know how to cheer me up.”

“Well.” He huffed out a breath. “Yeah, you got me there. How am I doing?”

“Really good.”

“And how are you?”

My throat tightened as my chest clenched. When I spoke, my voice barely came out. “I’m okay.”

“Really? Cause you kinda sound like you’ve been crying.”

“Van…”

He didn’t respond, didn’t interrupt, and I hated that he was such a good friend. That he cared enough to check in on me and knew when I was lying through my teeth.

“I hit my shin on my stupid table again.”

“That’s it. I’m coming over and I’m taking that damn thing to the dumpster where it belongs, and then we’re gonna sit and watch shitty rom coms and eat a gallon of ice cream while you tell me why you’re really crying.”