Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Ripley
I’m no stranger to awkward family dinners. Most of my adolescence was spent eating meals where I felt like I was using my knife to cut the tension more than the food on my plate. And that was on the days my parents actually spoke to me.
After the disaster of a dinner at Seth’s father’s house, I think I prefer my parents’ icy silence. Seth had warned me before we got there, and he’d hinted at the kind of people his dad and stepmother are, but getting a front row seat was eye-opening on another level.
I want to wrap Seth in a blanket and hold him.
I want to drag him onto a plane and take him far, far away from their biting words and contemptuous glares.
It’s clear they feel nothing but disdain for him, and inviting him to these family dinners is purely an exercise in control.
Just a cat-and-mouse game to make themselves feel powerful and him very, very small.
We don’t speak on the ride back to Seth’s apartment, the tension in the small space of the car heavy and mournful. Seth doesn’t appear to be filled with the anxiety from earlier, just a quiet sadness; his shoulders sag, a physical reminder of the weight of his family’s cloaked insults.
How do they not see how amazing he is? Especially with what he’s done with his business.
They turn a blind eye to all of his successes because they’re not what was expected of him.
But I suspect even if he’d done everything asked of him, in the exact way his father expected, it still wouldn’t be good enough.
They don’t seem like the kind to ever be satisfied.
Or maybe he’s just their punching bag. I’m not sure which is worse.
My heart clenches for his sisters. Even from our short interaction, it’s clear Seth is head over heels for them. Knowing him, he’s probably already planned their escape from under their father’s thumb the second they turn eighteen. The thought only makes me love him more.
I kick off my shoes when we enter his place, and they land haphazardly just inside the door. Seth picks them up and places them next to his on the shoe rack with a sigh. I cringe at myself.
My first hint that I won’t be staying is him taking off his jacket and placing it in his coat closet but not offering to take mine.
I slip it off anyway and place it on the back of the sofa in the living room.
A vague sense of nausea swirls in my stomach as I look at the city outside of his large windows.
The sun is setting, and the lights are coming on in the buildings across the street.
The padding of his bare feet stops on the other side of the living room, and it’s another minute before he takes a deep breath and asks, “Why are you here?”
Hint number two.
Turning around, I find hint number three: he’s standing with the sofa and coffee table between us, his arms crossed and his expression hard. The walls I’ve been unknowingly chiseling away at for the last month are back up and fortified with steel beams and a moat.
Surprisingly, it’s not heartbreak that bubbles up inside me first, it’s anger.
We’re doing this again? He’s going to pretend to be an emotionless robot while I toss pieces of my heart at him?
Fine. But this time, I’ll douse them in alcohol before lighting them on fire.
Metaphorical molotov cocktails, baby. If I burn, you burn with me. Make us both hurt.
“I’ve never been to Seattle, thought I’d do some sightseeing.” I smirk, hopefully it hides the way my chest constricts the longer I maintain his arctic glare.
“Funny.” Seth’s nostrils flare, and he looks away before running a hand down his face.
“I’m known for my jokes. Just like you’re known for running away as soon as you feel any sort of real emotion.”
He scoffs, but even from across the room, I see his eyes shine as he blinks a few times.
“I thought I was clear before I left Indigo Hill.” There’s no inflection in his voice, no fight left in him. Not for himself, and certainly not for us. My heart twists in my chest. Seeing him hurting knocks the breath out of my lungs.
In my head, I’m laying down my weapons already. I can’t be another person in his life who hurts him. Just as quickly as my anger rose, it ebbs, washed away with the unshed tears in his Caribbean-blue eyes.
“I get it, okay? I get it.” I hold his gaze, silently begging his tears not to fall.
“Get what?”
“You’re scared,” I say and gesture vaguely behind me, toward the city outside.
“After that sad excuse for a family dinner, I understand why. Your family is fucking horrible—not your sisters, they seem cool. But I’m well-versed in shitty parents, and yours take the cake.
That whole encounter was fucking abusive.
“So I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to keep doing that to yourself.
You can choose not to. You’re an adult, you can choose…
me. Us.” My voice breaks at the end. I’ve never felt so terrified, so vulnerable.
Even when I’ve told him about my feelings before, I’ve never actually asked him to pick me.
To make a conscious decision to love me. I just hoped he already did.
“Choose to be happy. With me. For real. Out in the open.” My thoughts are broken, and my voice trembles with each word, fighting the lump in my throat threatening to overwhelm me.
Seth doesn’t say anything. His face is unreadable, his body still.
The only reason I know he’s still here with me is because tears streak down his cheeks, more and more with each blink of his eyes.
I wish I didn’t have to slice myself open to get a reaction out of him, to get him to show any hint of emotion.
I don’t know how long our silent standoff lasts, but the sun has fully set now, the only light coming from the city outside and the ambient lighting of the kitchen off the living room.
Like always, I break first. “Please say something.”
The shake of his head is almost imperceptible, really just a slide of the shadows on his face, but it tells me everything I need to know. Thea was wrong. I’m on my own with all of these damn feelings.
I almost want to laugh. I’m so starved for love that a man leaving me twice didn’t get it through my thick skull. I needed to chase him down and have him really drive the nail in.
Well, at least I’ve received the message loud and clear now.
I’m not really sure what’s going on emotionally with me right now, there are so many feelings, they’ve all coalesced into numbness.
I feel like I’ve been suckerpunched and all the air has been knocked out of me.
I’m so focused on my need for oxygen, I can’t think about how crushed I feel. It’s a blessing really.
My throat thickens, and my heart collapses in on itself as I take a minute to memorize him, anticipating this will most likely be the last time I see him.
His hair, still perfect, even the strands that escaped his gel’s hold and now lie on his forehead.
The breathtaking blue of his eyes like warm, warm water at an island oasis.
The strong jaw with the hint of stubble I ran my lips against just a handful of days ago.
It doesn’t take long to catalogue all these bits and pieces of him, pick up my coat from the back of the sofa and my shoes from the rack he so carefully laid them on, and leave his apartment.
I hated watching his family mistreat him. I hate seeing him hurt, but I also don’t want to be hurt. As much as it destroys my heart to do it, if Seth won't choose me, I’ll do it myself by walking away and leaving him in my rearview.
Just before my rideshare picks me up in front of Seth’s building, I text Thea.
5/12 8:28 p.m.
Me: It’s over. I’ll be home on the first flight I can get out of here.
Delivered