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“I’m sorry I’ve waited so long to do this,” he says, almost looking ashamed, but he’s always been a good actor. He knows how to play me after all these years, using this look on me multiple times to get his way. It will not work this time.
“The thing is,” he continues, “back when all that happened, I was fucked up. I was depressed, stressed, and lost. We had these big plans for our lives, and it just felt like we were stuck. Neither of us could make enough money to do anything but survive. I wanted a better life. I wanted to give you a better life. And when that didn’t happen, it was like a kick to the gut. I acted out. I fucked up, and I know that. But it took losing you for me to realize that having you by my side in this hard life is better than not having you at all. I can’t promise we’ll ever live in a big house or even travel the world, but I can promise that I love you, that I’m better now, and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.”
A speech like this months ago probably would’ve worked on me. When he and I were just a couple of teenagers, we thought life was going to be easy. We thought we’d get jobs and work our way up the corporate ladder. We thought loving one another and hard work was all it took. But when you’re starting with nothing, it’s really hard to get anywhere. We’d save a grand and feel like things were finally getting started. Then the car would break down, taking us back to zero. It was a never-ending shit show, but through it all, we loved one another, and that’s what carried us through the hard times. Somewhere along the way, love wasn’t enough for him anymore.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Ryan, but I can’t. I’ve moved on.”
He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “Don’t say that. Don’t give up on us.” His green eyes are full of emotion.
I offer him the biggest smile I can muster as I pull my hand away. “I didn’t give up on us, Ryan. You did when you brought that other woman into our bed. I’ll never be able to trust you again, even if I wanted to. But honestly—and I don’t want to hurt you by saying this—I don’t want to. I tried and tried for years with you. I went above and beyond to keep us together, and you never once fought for me. Now you want to?” I shake my head. “It’s too late.” I pick up my drink and finish it off, setting the glass on the table. “I need to get going. Please, go home.” I stand and walk toward the door, feeling multiple eyes on me. Before stepping through, I glance over my shoulder, seeing that I’m not only holding Ryan’s attention but Travis’, too.
I step through the door and dig my keys from my purse. I let out a long breath, almost feeling like I’m exhaling out all the stress I’d held within my body for years. I feel lighter somehow. I push myself forward, rounding the building to the parking lot where I parked my car this morning. Even though it’s cloudy and cooler than usual, the day is suddenly brighter and warmer for me.
I unlock the car and toss my purse into the passenger side before pulling on my coat. I’m just about to slide behind the wheel when I hear someone call my name. I turn to find Ryan walking over to me. A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I close the driver’s side door, crossing my arms and waiting for what’s to come.
“Don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” he pleads, coming to a stop in front of me.
I shake my head. “I’m not walking away from anything, Ryan. You already did. You pushed me away. It’s time to admit that what’s done is done. There’s no going back. So do whatever you need to do to move on and leave us in the past. There’s no fixing this.”
Pain is in his green eyes, but I also see a flash of anger. “I love you, Riley. Don’t you love me anymore?”
I think about that question. Do I still love him? I loved him months ago when I was on my way home from work. I loved him as I was turning the doorknob to our bedroom. I even loved him when I felt my heart shatter, finding him in bed with another woman on the other side of the door. I loved him when I packed my things and drove away. But do I love him now? No, I don’t. After taking time to heal and move on, I’ve learned that maybe all those times I thought I loved him weren’t love at all. It was an addiction; a co-dependency. I’d relied on him for so long that I didn’t know how to be myself anymore. Oftentimes, those feelings and insecurities can mix and trick you into thinking you love someone.
I’ve been working hard to start over and live a life I can be happy with. While I’m not where I want to be, I’m working toward a goal, and I’m not giving up on it. Not for him, not for anyone. This is my life, and it’s time I start living it for myself. I move my eyes up to his, making contact because I want him to see me when I say this. “No, I don’t love you, Ryan. Not anymore, and not for a long time. Please, go home.” I try to turn to open my car door, only I’m spun back around as he slams me back against the side of my car.
Somehow, I’m engulfed in his arms as he smashes his mouth to mine. His hands on my body aren’t soft. They’re strong, squeezing my face and neck painfully. His lips are rough, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth. My heart jumps to life in my chest. Not from excitement, but from fear. My hands move to his chest, and I try with all my might to push him back.
“Stop,” I manage to get out before he covers my mouth again. I try pushing harder. I try shoving, but nothing makes him step back. I feel my eyes burn with tears and then suddenly, he’s ripped away.
Everything is moving so fast, but when I’m able to focus my teary eyes, I find Ryan on his back in the gravel. Travis is above him after landing a solid punch to his jaw. I hear the crack of his bone from the hit, and it makes me flinch.
“Get the fuck up and get out of here,” Travis tells him as he steps back.
Ryan doesn’t waste any time getting to his feet and rushing to his truck. He climbs behind the wheel and slams the old, metal door. The engine roars to life and he throws it in drive, stepping on the gas so hard that the tires kick up rocks. The second his truck is out of sight, Travis turns to look at me. I see pain and anger on his face. His chest is rising and falling quickly. Slowly, he walks over to me.
“Are you okay?” His hands are on his hips, and his jaw is flexed in anger.
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and nod. “I’m fine.”
“Who the fuck was that guy?” He motions down the road with his hand.
“My husband.”
His brows lift. “You’re still married?”
I nod. “I haven’t filed for divorce yet, but I will when I get the money.”
Travis shakes his head. “I don’t want him in my bar again.”
I nod, understanding.
He goes to turn around, but he stops when I say, “Thank you.”
His eyes find mine once more. “For what?”
“For coming out here when you didn’t have to. For pulling him away from me.” I smile. “For punching him.” God knows he deserves it.
He smirks and nods, seemingly understanding the meaning. “You’re welcome.”
