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I palm my face, my lips shaking, my voice anguished as I ruin a relationship with a man who’s done nothing short of worship me. “I’m still in love with the memory of another man and have been since I was twenty. It’s clear now, I’ll never stop wanting him, and I’ve failed at every attempt to hate him. I had hoped so much to move on—and with you—I tried, I tried so hard, but I failed. I failed us both.”
“And you don’t know if you’ll see him? What future can you have with a memory?”
“One that’s not deceptive to you. One that doesn’t hurt you. I don’t care about my happiness anymore so much, but I refuse to ruin yours. I’ve been selfish enough in my thinking. Find a woman who would move heaven and earth to be good to you. Find her, and one
day, maybe you can forgive me. One day, maybe you’ll say you’ll try to forgive me.”
“You’ve ruined my life.”
“No, walking down that aisle and being emotionally unfaithful would have ruined your life.”
“You’re not giving me a chance to fight!”
“Because I’m certain, Collin, I’m certain. Please hear me. It’s over.”
As expected, he hangs up, and I hang my head, setting my tears free. My fate is sealed. There’s no back, and there’s no forward. I’ve been physically monogamous for years, just not emotionally faithful to the men I’ve dated. In one way or another, they all failed in silent comparison. I’m still strung out on the highs of my past because I never closed the door, fully let myself grieve, which left me in a constant state of limbo.
At this point, I would rather be alone than a liar.
I came back to declare war on my memories, to draw my lines, and I’m already disgusted with just how relieved I am by reclaiming, owning my dark side.
Maybe my scales are harder to see than Roman’s were, but we’ve got far more in common than I initially thought. I’m more than capable of being the villain.
Villain.
I guess it takes one to love and loathe one.
And I’ve become a convincing one at that.
And in Collin’s story, I will be.
Furious with the easy comparison, I scroll through my phone and press send. He answers on the second ring.
“You know, you’re about four years too late for a booty call.”
“Hey, Ryan, sorry, I know it’s late.”
“What’s going on? Neither you nor Collin have been answering my calls. And thanks to you both for not bothering to show up for work today, it was a shitshow. I had to push meetings.”
“I’m sorry, something came up. I’ll explain later.”
A brief silence.
“Should I be worried?”
“Ryan, I need your help.”
“Name it.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“Where is here?”
“I’m in Triple Falls.”
“You’re finally going to sell?”
“His business, his house. I want nothing more to do with him. It’s past time.”
