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– and saw Ryan.
Physically saw him, standing about twenty feet away, at the corner of the building.
He was staring into my eyes, and the pain on his face was like somebody had stabbed him.
I immediately felt horrible. I wanted to vomit; I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Derek saw my reaction and looked over. He straightened up, though he was cool and collected about it.
“Hey,” he called out to Ryan, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
Ryan looked over at him, and the hurt on his face hardened into coldness. Not hatred, not contempt – just cold and frozen, like a statue. He walked up slowly, his shoes gritting on the pavement.
“They need you inside to lay down the vocals,” Ryan said, his voice toneless and unemotional.
“Okay, cool,” Derek said, and reached out for the door. “See you later, Kaitlyn.”
I didn’t look at him. I could only look at Ryan.
I heard the door open and then close.
“That wasn’t what you think it was,” I said quietly, my stomach still roiling inside me.
The pain didn’t return to his face; it just stayed frozen.
“I need to go inside,” he said, in the same robotic voice he’d used on Derek.
I caught his arm as he turned to go. “Ryan – he was hitting on me, but I wasn’t – I’m with
you
, Ryan.”
“I need to go inside,” he said, his voice still a flat monotone.
“Ryan – please – talk to me.”
He dug in his pocket and held out the keys. “I think you should go home. Take the car; I’ll get a ride from somebody.”
“Ryan – ”
“Later,” he interrupted me, forcing the keys into my hand. “Later. Right now, I need to go inside.”
“Ryan, I need to talk to you now.”
For the first time I saw emotion break through: anger. His eyes blazed – and then he reverted to neutral.
“I think you have some things you need to figure out. Go figure them out, and we’ll talk later.”
He turned his back on me and walked away, letting the door slowly close behind him.
85
I went home and waited, my stomach in knots.
I think you have some things you need to figure out.
Did I?
I guess I did. So I began to take a long look at myself and the two men in my life.
It was undeniable, Derek still had an effect on me. A powerful one.
But was that wrong? Was it my fault?
I thought about it for a long time, and decided that no, it wasn’t.
I would never have admitted it out loud – not to Ryan, and especially not to a certain cheating asshole – but I had loved Derek more than I had thought I could possibly love anyone.
And he had hurt me more than I had ever thought possible.
All of that was only two months in the past.
Right now, in the quiet of Ryan’s home, it seemed like forever ago… but when I was around Derek, it felt like it had all happened yesterday.
I couldn’t change my feelings. But I didn’t have to
act
on them. And I wouldn’t.
Because I couldn’t trust him.
I had known what he was four years ago. I had known when I slept with him the first time. I had hoped – no, let’s be honest, I had
chosen
to believe that he was a different person, that he’d given up the womanizing, that I was enough, that he’d changed.
But he hadn’t. And he’d stabbed me through the heart.
And here he was again, claiming he had changed
once again,
that everything was different, that
he
was different.
Riiiight.
