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“…I don’t know how to live without you.”
I don’t know how to live without you either.The sadness returns as the longing ache I’ve had for him resurfaces. I don’twantto live a life without him. I want to call him back and tell him everything that’s running through my mind. I want to tell him that everything he’s feeling, I’m feeling too.
His message cuts before he finishes. I let the tears continue to fall. My body, exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions it’s been put through, slumps to the cold bathroom floor.
The mixed emotions that course through me are giving me whiplash.I miss him so much. So much so that I wish I could tell him.
But my walls are back up. I don’t know how I can learn to trust him again. To let him back in. The first time, he barged in. Saw through me, right into my soul, as if he belonged there. I didn’t fight it or question it because it felt so right.
I still feel the presence of him, a ghost of him wrapped around me, trying to let me know that I’m safe. I want to succumb to that. To wrap myself into him and forget everything that happened between us that brought us to this moment. But I can’t.
I leave the lingering sounds of Rhylan’s voice and my cries in the bathroom. I walk back into my dark room and climb into bed. A stuttered sigh escapes me, hitching at my throat as the fatigue finally settles.
* * *
“I listened to his voicemail.”
Claire is waking, ahead of my alarm clock, rubbing her eyes before stretching her arms above her head. Her head jerks up and faces me sitting on my bedroom floor. My knees are drawn up to my chin. I can’t look at her. I won’t be able to hold back everything I’m trying to keep at bay.
“What?”
“He said he misses me.”
“WHAT!” She’s sitting upright. Her face goes from confused to indignant. “What does he want from you?”
I finally look up at her. As soon as my eyes meet hers, the tears start forming, and I bury my face in my hands before they start falling. Claire crawls over the blankets to join me.
“Ellie,” she whispers as she holds me. I lean into her.
“I thought he was going to call to apologize so we could both move on, maybe even get some closure, but I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to do.” I let the tears fall, the fresh heartache settling in with the reality of Rhylan’s words.
“El, he tossed you aside and didn’t even look back. Whatever his reason, he still hurt you.” She urges me to listen when I lower my head onto her shoulder. With a sigh, she continues. “Whatever you do, if you want to call him or forget him for the rest of your life, I’m here for you. Just… protect your heart, no matter what.”
I lift my face and look up at her, considering her words. Another sob escapes me.
I miss you too, Rhylan. Please don’t break my heart because I don’t know if I can survive it.
FORTY-TWO
RHYLAN
It’s been one weeksince I called Ellie. Seven tortuous days sitting by my phone, waiting for her to call back. But nothing but complete radio silence. I keep thinking to myself that it was a mistake that I called her. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. How could she? I broke her heart and left her to fend for herself after I promised myself I wouldn’t hurt her.
Yet there’s another part of me that doesn’t care. I know that’s extremely selfish. But all I want is to see her, to hold her and whisper into her hair, telling her how sorry I am. I want to beg for another chance, let her know that I’m willing to spend the rest of my life proving to her that I will never hurt her again.
The wait to hear back from Ellie has been excruciating. I’m getting restless. I toss and turn at night, in and out of sleep. I can’t focus on anything. My days are returning to the endless blurs they used to be. The hope of seeing Ellie had brought me back to the surface, and now I’m slowly being dragged back down.
The frustration is building up inside me, bubbling until it sits in my chest, becoming a balled-up knot in my stomach. I pound my fist onto the counter and groan loudly, lowering my head into my hands. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
My phone rings loudly from my couch. I lunge for it, tripping over my feet.
“Hello?!”
“Hey, Rhy.” It’s Charles. His cheerful, singsongy voice rings through the phone.
Without even thinking, I sigh, frustrated and disappointed. “Hey.”
“Whoa, don’t sound too excited to hear my voice.”
