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Ryan isn't cheating.
He wants to marry me.
He's going to propose!
I fight to breathe.
Ryan knows this is a deal-breaker. He has to.
It was like pulling teeth to get me to move in with him.
What the hell is he thinking? When is he going to ask?
I can't say no to him but I won't say yes. My heart is beating a hundred miles a minute. What do I do? I can't pretend I haven't seen it. I'm a terrible liar. I can't talk to him about it.
I can't marry him.
I shouldn't even be living with him.
I'm not ready for any of this! I-I have to get out of here.
I'm suffocating.
I creep back into the room. Ryan is still sleeping the night away, unaware that his crazy decision has turned my life upside down. I frantically but quietly grab shoes, my phone, wallet, my laptop bag, and keys.
And I'm gone. I'm out of the apartment and at the building on the corner waiting for an Uber to get me the hell away.
Chapter Two
“So you just left?” my sister Melissa asks, her face somewhere between bewildered and irritated. I don’t know why she’s annoyed. I’m the one who just left my house in the middle of the night with a few things stuffed in a bag and now is in her little sister’s kitchen having to explain what happened for the second time.
“What else was I supposed to do? There was a ring! A ring he was going to propose with, and what then? I tell him, ‘Hey I like you but not in that way and oh are you insane? You’re going to propose to me, the girl who you had to practically force into moving in with you? That’s smart!’”
She lets out a peeved sigh and rubs her temples with a slight shake of her head.
“I know. I couldn’t believe it either,” I say sarcastically, but my hands are slightly trembling as I stuff one of her homemade biscuits into my mouth. It’s sweet and fluffy and tastes like a piece of heaven in this little version of hell I’m sitting in. Melissa has been cooking since she could reach the stove, and she turned her passion into a lucrative catering business. The taste of these cute little biscuits almost makes me forget the screwed-up predicament I’ve landed myself in.
“I can’t believe you,” she says with a self-righteous huff.
“You can’t believe me?” I ask in disbelief.
“You just left, you didn’t talk to him! You didn’t explain that maybe you aren’t ready, you just ran out like a five-year-old having a tantrum?” she asks, her big green eyes narrowed on me. Such a contrast from the stark blue eyes that I hate to see staring back at me in the mirror.
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” I say defensively, feeling the color drain from my face.
“No Maddy, that’s exactly what it was like, because this is what you do.” She stands from the table like she’s about to declare war.
“I’m not ready…” My voice is shakier than my hands were when holding that ring earlier.
It was beautiful.
“This wasn’t some one-night stand you just get to block out the next morning. This is a man you’ve lived with for months and who loves you, and after invading his privacy, might I add, with a Dear John letter you disappear?” she screeches. I don’t want to correct that it was a Dear John text.
“What should I have done then, take the ring, feign excitement, and leave him at the altar?” I fire back. God, I get so tired of her self-righteous bullshit, but since I want to use her guest room as my home until I get my life together, I swallow my indignation.
“No, you were supposed to woman-up and let him know that you’re still dealing with a whole lot of shit—that I thought you had gotten over a long time ago, but apparently you have not—and you need time to deal with things. You do this calmly, genuinely, maturely…not like a fucking teenager!” I suck in a breath and lock my eyes on my hands. I’m too embarrassed to look at her.
“Yet, I’m just guessing you’re not going to do that,” she says furiously.
