15. Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Aspen
I ’m in the kitchen staring out the window when the door opens. It’s dark out, so I’m not really seeing anything, but that’s okay. What I’m looking at is going on inside my mind. Turning, I lean back against the counter, folding my arms across my chest, my eyes tracking Ryan as he shrugs off his jacket, throwing it on the couch. He looks damn good in suits, but he hates wearing them.
I’m surprised that Hadley’s not with him.
“Thank fuck that’s over,” he mutters, striding to the kitchen and helping himself to a beer. He pops the cap, his throat moving as he downs half of it.
When he’s done, he eyes me warily. “You look like you’re ready for a fight.”
I shrug. “No. Wouldn’t want to make things harder for anyone.”
He sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor.
“The reception went on long,” I say, referencing the fact that it’s already dark out.
“Not really. We just…decompressed after the last people left. It would have been nice if you were there.”
“Really?”
If you could scoop up sarcasm, the amount coating that one word would fill a jar.
“Yes, really. Even after what you said. That was uncalled for, Aspen.”
I clench my teeth to keep my anger at bay.
“Why? Because of what I said, or because of when I said it?”
I wait for him to confirm that once again, I’m being the liar. The unreasonable one. To once again, take her side. He hesitates, and with that, I have my answer.
I nod with a sigh. “Don’t bother answering.”
“Come on, Aspen.”
I look at him, and it’s like I’m looking at a stranger. I love him. You can’t just turn love off with a snap of the fingers. If I could, I would. But I don’t like him. And it’s blowing my mind. Before Hadley, I liked, no, loved everything about him. But these past few weeks have shown me a side of him that has all my instincts screaming at me. Get out. Protect yourself. Before it’s too late. I don’t like what he’s been showing me or how he’s been treating me. It has me confused over which Ryan is the real Ryan. And it’s playing tug of war in my heart.
“Do you love her?”
He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean, do I love her?”
“It means, Do. You. Love. Her? It’s not a hard question. All it needs is a yes or no.”
“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be, Aspen. Do I love her? Yes, and no. I love her like a friend, like family, like her family should have loved her. The type of love where you bend over backward to be there for the people who are important to you. Do I love her like in romantic love? No, I don’t. I love you. I’ve told you that.”
But you haven’t shown me that.
I want to shake my head and deny his statement, but I don’t bother.
“What’s happening on Saturday?” I spit out the question that’s been at the forefront of my mind all day.
I just need that last confirmation. That last bump that will tell me it’s time to leave.
His body deflates. “This is not how I wanted us to have this talk,” he mutters.
“I don’t think you want to talk at all. I mean, it took you days before you felt the need to explain why you omitted the tiny fact that you guys were married. You tell me you love me, but from where I’m standing, that’s a lie. If you loved me, you would have done everything in your power to make things right between us. You wouldn’t have expected me to sit by kicking my heels while you comfort your ‘friend.’ Seriously, Ryan. I can’t believe I even have to say that. How is anything you’ve done okay? How is spending nights with her okay? How is pushing me away okay if you love me?”
“I’m sorry, okay! It feels like I’m drowning and all I’m trying to do is the right thing. I thought you’d understand.”
“Don’t worry, I understand plenty,” I murmur, looking down at the ground. I understand you go to the ends of the earth for the person you love. Which I thought was me. Obviously, this isn’t the case. He’s done everything he thought was right for her. Not me. “Just spit it out,” I say again. I’m weary, down to the bottom of my soul, and I want this conversation over with.
“This is a shit show,” he mutters. Seconds tick by while he looks at the ground, searching for what? Patience? Courage? Strength? He must find what he’s looking for because his eyes lift and meet mine, determination blazing in them. Ah, determination then. “I know things between us are rough right now.” I can’t hold back my chuckle. Rough is an understatement. “But I believe we’re strong enough to weather any storm,” he continues, ignoring my laugh.
Easy for him to say when he’s the storm and I’m the poor idiot caught unawares in a life raft.
He puts his beer down and steps into me, taking my hands. “I love you, Aspen. Only you. I’ve made a gigantic mess of everything these past weeks, but I’m begging you, please be patient with me. Please understand that everything I’ve done is to help a friend out who’s having a hard time. Please don’t let my fuck ups make you doubt my love for you.”
I look at him in disbelief. How can he expect my understanding and patience if he hasn’t given me any of that in return? If he’s done nothing to make me feel valued and important? Ryan is an intelligent guy, and that he’s saying all this only highlights that I’m not going to like whatever is happening next Saturday.
He searches my eyes, waiting for a response, sighing when I don’t give him any.
“When Hadley and I got married,” he grimaces at the last word, “we were broke college students. There’s this place she’s always wanted to go to. We didn’t have money, so we thought to save up for it. Then we got divorced, and I promised we’d go before we turned thirty.”
I don’t want him touching me, so I pull my hands from his, backing away a few steps. “And that’s what’s happening next Saturday? You’re taking your ex-wife on a belated honeymoon? Just the two of you?”
“The way you’re saying it…I know it sounds bad.”
“Because it is, Ryan!” I explode.
“It’s not like that! She’s my friend, and I’m her friend. That’s all this is. Aspen, I made her a promise,” he continues in a calmer tone. “A promise I can’t break. All her life, that’s all her parents ever did. Break promises. Let her down. Make her feel like she’s nothing. I refuse to be like them. When I made that promise, I didn’t think of the future. I had no idea I’d meet you. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Stupid, I know, but now I’m stuck. I cannot go back on my word.”
“So what you’re saying is that there’s nothing I can say to change your mind? Not even telling you that Hadley still has feelings for you and that it’s messed up that you’re taking your ex-wife on holiday? That I’m asking you to not go? None of that will change your mind?”
I’m asking, but I already know the answer. It’s written all over his face. I just want it out there.
“Aspen,” he groans, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Hadley doesn’t have feelings for me. Our divorce was a mutual decision. She’s been living in London for years.”
“She didn’t tell you she quit her job, and she’s moving back?”
He shakes his head. “She hasn’t. She would have if she did.”
Hadley is the one lying, either to me or Ryan, but once again, I’m the liar. It’s the feeling of helplessness, knowing that no matter what I say, he won’t believe me over her, that cements my decision for me.
“Okay,” I say, keeping my face blank in the face of the relief that flashes over his.
“Thank you,” he sighs, his shoulders lifting a fraction. “This is the last thing I need to do for her. When I get back, everything will return to normal.”
My smile is sad when I turn away. There won’t be a normal. Not for us.
I sigh and throw my pen down with so much force that it rolls off the table. Dropping my head into my hands, I massage my eyes with my palms. Unsurprisingly, I have a headache coming on. A night spent tossing and turning and stress will do that to you. Ryan’s still asleep as if nothing is wrong in his world, and I guess for him, nothing is. The way he snuggled up against my back told me he thinks he’s won. That I’m not choking on all the bullshit he’s been shoveling down my throat. That I’ll wave them off with a smile on my face.
Fuck it.
Fuck him.
Fuck her.
That’s why, when four rolled around, I decided that since sleep hates me, I could at least do something productive. So, I’m making a list, and since I’m not in the habit of lying to myself, I have to admit that the outlook is grim.
Everything boils down to money. Which I don’t have. I was lucky when I met Rose. She already had everything. All she needed was a roommate to share the rent with. Unfortunately, that means I don’t have anything. Just my clothes, a few sentimental items that are not practical at all, and my car. Oh, and the rescue. Which is a few miles out of town and doesn’t help me at all. The opposite in fact. It’s going to cost me money every month. Once again, money I don’t have.
Finding a place to rent on such short notice that fits my non-existent budget will be next to impossible. Putting down a deposit and the first month’s rent—completely impossible. Then there are all the things I’ll need. A bed, although I could make do with a blow-up mattress, bedding, at least one plate, knife, fork, cup, teaspoon, and, if I want to really spoil myself, a chair.
Money, money, money. An endless refrain beating relentlessly against my brain. But I don’t care. There is no way I can stay here. I’d rather be homeless, sleeping in my car than live here. They are leaving on Saturday, so I have a few days to make my plans, but shit, it’s hard if you don’t have many options.
The front door opens, and I close my eyes in frustration. It seems I just can’t catch a break.
Hold it together, Aspen. Just five more days, then you never have to see the bitch again, I promise myself.
I watch in silence as she walks into the kitchen, moving around while she makes herself her beloved chamomile tea. Like she owns the place. I guess in five days, she will. I’m guessing it won’t take her long to get Ryan in her bed once I’m gone. No, wait. He’s already been doing that during those long nights spent comforting her.
She’s welcome to him.
I take a sip of my coffee when she takes a seat at the kitchen table. It’s my fifth cup in a span of two hours, but hey, who’s counting?
“Tell me, besides Ryan, how many friends do you have that actually live in this town? Bailey? Hannah? I haven’t seen you reach out to any of them.”
She shrugs. “They’re not important. Ryan is.”
“So, how exactly do you plan to integrate yourself back into his life once you move back?”
“I won’t need to. I’ve always been integrated into his life. Distance didn’t change that. Besides, that’s a moot point. We won’t be living here for long. Small towns like this are… backward,” she says with a little shudder. “After living in London with its vibrant nightlife, I could never live in a place like this again.”
“Nice,” I say, nodding, like we’re chatting about the weather, and not the fact that she’s stealing my boyfriend. Well, stole, actually. Past tense. I want to massage my chest to ease the pain that intensifies with each heartbeat but keep my fingers clenched around my mug. “I’m surprised you’re being so honest.”
Before the funeral, she hardly spoke to me. Besides the odd comment here and there, she was tight-lipped. Playing her part as the victim perfectly, I now realize.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She leans forward, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Even if you blab to Ryan, he won’t believe you. Hasn’t he shown you he’ll always take my side?”
I fist my hands under the table in an effort to not punch the smug, superior smile off her face.
Five more days, Aspen.
If she convinces him to move away, it will be a blessing in disguise. I won’t have to see them around town, rubbing my face in it.
When did I start thinking of them being a couple as a foregone conclusion?
“Well, good luck with all that,” I say, folding my list and getting up. I have a sudden desire to escape this house of horrors. I don’t know what I’m going to do with my day, but anything is better than being here.