Chapter Twenty-Eight Falling Apart at the Seams
RYLEE
Before I know it, it’s almost mid-November.
I’ve gotten all the shots of Zander I need for his article —not to mention, many shots just for me — and just need to get the team photo for the other feature, which I have scheduled to take place soon.
All-in-all, work is going great and I’ll be able to wrap things up sooner rather than later.
Of course, that’s a bit of a bittersweet thought, and one Zander and I have been avoiding talking about.
I’m so happy being with him, but I was never going to stay in Denver and we both knew that when we started this thing.
The idea of long distance makes us both anxious, I know, but if Zander wants this to work out, he needs to figure out how he’s going to be with me once I’m back in Nashville.
If he can’t… Well, I’d hate to find out after everything we’ve gone through that he wasn’t worth it in the end because he wouldn’t fight for me.
Part of me wonders if I should just break-up with him now before he has a chance to do it to me instead.
No matter how hard I try to shove them down, my old fears just keep creeping to the surface.
Whenever I think about a future with Zander, there’s a thought in the back of my head that it’s just going to blow up, like it did with Miles, and I’m going to be heartbroken and alone all over again.
It’s a gut-wrenching idea, and one I try to shove to the back of my mind as often as I possibly can. I don’t want it to taint the happiness I’ve been experiencing with him. Nor do I want to give up the comfort of the routine we have fallen into.
One of the things we’ve come to love doing together is running. Every Saturday morning, we’ll go on a long run together. Today is no different, and once we’re finished with our run, we make our way back to the apartment, sweaty, breathless, and energized.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Zander says once we step through the door. We stop in the kitchen and he sets his phone and keys on the island.
“Okay,” I nod. “I’ll start breakfast.”
Grinning, he drops a kiss on top of my head then makes his way toward the hallway, stripping his shirt off as he goes and giving me a delicious view of his glistening, muscled back.
God, that man is so fucking fine.
Once he disappears from sight, I cross to the fridge and open it to start pulling out ingredients for French toast. As I’m setting everything on the island, Zander’s phone starts going off.
I ignore it and it eventually stops, but then it starts buzzing a second time.
When it starts buzzing a third time, I let out a sigh and move to the hall.
“Zander!” I call out. “Your phone keeps going off.”
He cracks the bathroom door open and responds, “Can you bring it to me?”
“Sure can.”
I go back to the kitchen to grab his phone from the island and see the missed call notification on the screen. I click on it, thinking I can tell Zander who it was who called, but when the call log comes up, my finger slips and I touch the voicemail button.
“Hey, Zander, this is the property manager’s office reaching out again. Hope all is well. Just a reminder that your apartment has been ready for over seven weeks now. If you have questions about the remaining time on your lease, please call us back to discuss.”
I freeze, blinking down at the phone as the voicemail comes to an end.
Zander’s apartment has been ready for seven weeks?
I don’t understand. My stomach twists. Is he hiding something?
Is that why he didn’t tell me? Part of me is happy that he’s stayed with me, but it doesn’t really make sense.
Why wouldn’t he just tell me his apartment was ready?
He could’ve invited me to stay there instead of continuing to live at Carson's place.
Does he not want me to see his place? Why?
Is there something wrong with me?
If he’s not willing to show me his home, then we’re obviously not as close as I thought we were, which means this so-called relationship is just a big fucking joke…
I shake my head, stopping my spiraling thoughts. No, no… I need to calm down. Zander wouldn’t think that nor do this on purpose. I’m just letting my paranoia get the better of me. He’s a good guy.
Phone in hand, I start down the hallway toward the bathroom. I glance down at it when another ping sounds, and nearly trip over my own feet in shock.
It’s a notification from Cloak. What the hell? I didn’t know he was on the app… and why the fuck is he still getting notifications?
Mind buzzing, I can’t stop myself from opening the app to see what bitches are messaging him, but when I look in his mailbox, the world comes to a grinding halt.
That’s… that’s my profile name. ClickTease.
Then I realize what his profile name is - GlideControlZ.
What the fuck?
I scroll through the messages, and they’re all there. Every conversation we’ve had. All the vulnerable things I’ve shared with him. All the things I’ve been feeling about… him. About Zander!
This can’t be real, can it? Zander can’t be the guy I’ve been chatting with all these months. That would be too insane of a coincidence!
He wouldn’t keep this from me. He wouldn’t! I told him… I told him I wouldn’t do lies and secrets.
Has he been using this to fuck with me? Manipulate me?
I feel the blood drain from my face so fast, I get dizzy. At that moment, the bathroom door opens and Zander steps out with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Hey, who was calling me?” he asks, but then stops when he sees the look on my face. “You okay, Rylee?”
Hand shaking, I raise the phone and show him the screen with our messages on display.
“Did you know this was me?” I ask in a soft, shaking voice.
Please say no. Please, please, please God, say he didn’t know.
To my horror, though, he sighs and drops his gaze from mine.
“I… I knew,” he murmurs. “I figured it out a while back.”
I stare at him, stunned. It feels like something is shattering inside me and so many emotions rush through me all at once it’s difficult to sort through them.
So I latch onto the one that’s making the most sense - betrayal.
He’s just like the rest of them - just another man lying to me. Using me. Taking advantage of my vulnerabilities and feelings to get what he wants out of me.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I cry, furious tears filling my eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Zander?”
“I’m sorry… I’m really sorry,” he stammers.
“When I realized you were ClickTease, everything changed. I didn’t want the internet version of us…
I wanted the real one. I just wanted to give us more time.
I wanted you to get to know me as Zander before I told you, because I was already falling for you… ”
“Shut up!” I scream. “Shut up! I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses.
You shouldn’t have kept it a secret from me.
You should have told me the moment you figured it out!
And your apartment? When were you going to tell me that it was ready?
Or were you just going to go on playing house until I went back home?
Treating this like some fling while leading me to believe it’s something more?
What did you plan on doing when I left? I could be out of here in a week, and you were going to just let me go without telling me this? ”
He freezes, his eyes going wide. “A week?”
Is that all he can focus on right now? While I’m standing here, falling apart at the seams because he’s not the man I thought he was.
“Get out,” I snap. When I feel Gizmo rub up against my leg, I bend down and pick him up. “Just get the fuck out!
Before Zander can reply, I shove past him and storm to the bedroom, slamming it shut behind me and locking it before I let the tears flow.
Curled up under the blankets on the bed, I’ve been crying for hours, heartbroken and hopeless.
I’m pretty sure Zander left, though he spent about fifteen minutes banging on the bedroom door trying to convince me to open up.
I ignored him, of course, wanting nothing to do with him while I wallowed in my misery.
He’s tried calling and texting me, but I put my phone on silent and haven’t even looked at his messages.
Part of me wonders if maybe I’m overreacting. Being irrational. Did he actually do something wrong? Something worth ending things over?
No, no, he did. He lied to me, even though I told him not to. He used the vulnerable information I told GlideControlZ to get closer to me. How can I possibly trust him now?
Gizmo has stayed close to me this whole time, occasionally licking at my cheek or fingers, as if to assure me that he’s still here. That he loves me and won’t betray me.
Suddenly, my laptop dings. I sit up and grab it from the nightstand and see that it’s an email from Juliet.
Juliet: Hey, Rylee. Just wanted to let you know that you can have the week of Thanksgiving off. The team article is complete, except for the group shot. Let’s plan on having the individual article ready right after Thanksgiving. Just upload it to the company drive folder, and you’ll be golden.
Ugh, that fucking article is the last thing I want to think about right now. I have it started, so I’m not worried about finishing it, but I’m so angry and hurt right now, I don’t want to think about Zander, let alone write about him.
Tossing my phone aside, I sit up and decide that I can’t deal with this right now. I want to go numb. I don’t want to feel this pain and disappointment anymore.
Climbing out of bed, I make my way out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. That bottle of vodka is still in the cabinet, and it’s not just calling my name right now.
It’s screaming it.
And I’m more than happy to answer.
Fuck Zander.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck him.
Fuck his stupid, handsome face. Fuck his charming good boy persona. Fuck his panty-dropping kisses.
He’s a lying asshole!
The half-empty vodka bottle dangling from my hand, I stumble back to the bedroom to find my journal. I need to vent - write out my pain. When I dig the journal out from beneath the bed’s mattress and open it, though, I realize that it’s full.
Fuck!
I toss it to the floor, frustrated. I have empty journals back home, but like an idiot, I didn’t bring any with me.
Screw it… I’ll just type it. I can journal on the computer, that’s fine. I just need to purge my thoughts from my head and lay out all the reasons that Zander is not the guy for me.
Climbing into bed, I set the vodka bottle on the nightstand and grab my laptop. Ugh, my vision is a little blurry… it’s fine, I’ll just squint.
Opening a word doc, I start to type out everything on my mind with furious movements.
Zander Caldwell doesn’t know how to tell the truth. He’s a liar with a pretty face - the guy looks like fucking Thor, okay, we get it! Stop telling him that! It’s only going to his head. Don’t fall for his good boy persona because he’s a sonofabitch just like every other man out there!
Is he an excellent hockey player? Yeah! He is!
Does that mean he’s a decent guy? No, not at all.
He’ll lull you into a false sense of security by acting like a cute nerd who’s really good at video games and can go on and on about Marvel movie lore.
At the end of the day, though, he’s still just a guy doing whatever he can to get into as many girls’ pants as possible…
I continue for a good few pages, unloading everything that pisses my unreasonable drunken mind off about Zander onto the document.
It’s cathartic and does make me feel a little better.
When I’m done, I move it into my personal save folder, though I have to squint even harder to make sure it’s the right one.
When I’m done, I sigh and set my laptop to the side. Good… that was good. I’m glad I did that…
Suddenly, my stomach pitches and a wave of nausea hits me out of nowhere. Scrambling out of bed, I rush to the bathroom to get to the toilet before I throw up all over myself.