Chapter 40
CHAPTER
FORTY
JULIE
We order pizza and sit around the living room eating off paper plates, trying to be normal. Jamie tells stories about the shop, and Ryan talks about a project he's working on, and I try to focus on the conversation instead of the fact that Asher is at home right now doing God knows what.
Ryan's mother has texted Asher as me, from my phone which is with her on San Juan Island. He texted back a thumbs up emoji, said have fun, and then hasn't texted since. I bet that smug fucker feels good about the fact that I'm away. If only he knew.
I keep checking the burner phone even though I know Marcus likely won't call tonight. He needs time to fully set up.
"You should try to sleep," Jamie says around ten.
"I don't think I can."
"Try anyway." She stands and stretches. "I'm taking the room at the end of the hall. You want the one next to me?"
"Yeah. Okay."
She heads upstairs, leaving Ryan and me alone again. He's sitting on the couch, one arm stretched along the back, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read.
"You don't have to stay," I say. "I know you probably have things to do tomorrow."
"I'm staying," he says simply. "At least for tonight. I want to make sure you're okay."
"I'm okay."
"Julie."
I sigh and sit down on the other end of the couch, tucking my legs under me. "Fine. I'm not okay. I'm anxious and I feel like I'm going to throw up. But I'm here. I'm doing this. So I guess that counts for something."
"It counts for everything," Ryan says quietly.
We sit in silence for a while. The house is quiet except for the sound of Jamie moving around upstairs and the distant hum of traffic outside. "Can I ask you something?" I say finally.
"Anything."
"Why are you doing this? Really. This is a lot, Ryan. You sent your parents to San Juan. You hired an investigator. You're putting yourself in the middle of my mess. Why?"
He's quiet for a long moment, and I think maybe I've crossed a line. But then he shifts on the couch, turning to face me more fully.
"Because you deserve better than this," he says. "You deserve someone who sees you. Who values you. Who doesn't make you feel like you're crazy for noticing when something's wrong."
My throat tightens. "Ryan?—"
"I'm not finished." His voice is gentle but firm.
"I've watched you disappear for months. I've watched you get smaller and quieter and less like yourself. I knew the problem was Asher. But I had no idea what that really meant. Now that I do, I’m fucking furious.
So yeah, I'm doing this. Because someone needs to be on your side.
And if it's going to be anyone, it's going to be me. "
I don't know what to say. The words sit between us, heavy and true and terrifying. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," I whisper.
"You didn't have to do anything," he says. "You just had to be you."
And then something shifts. The air between us changes, becoming charged with something I'm not ready to name.
Ryan's looking at me like I'm the only person in the world, and I realize with a jolt that I'm leaning toward him, that the space between us is shrinking, that if I just moved a little closer?—
I pull back. "I can't," I say, and my voice is shaking. "Ryan, I can't. Not right now. Not like this."
He doesn't look hurt. He just nods, like he expected this. "I know."
"It's not that I don't—" I stop, trying to find the right words. "I need to get my head on straight first. I need to figure out who I am without Asher. I need to not be a mess."
"You're not a mess," Ryan says.
"I am. I really am." I wrap my arms around myself. "And I can't drag you into that. You deserve better than someone who's still trying to untangle herself from a marriage that's been dead for months."
"Julie." He reaches out and takes my hand, and the touch is so gentle it makes my chest ache.
"I'm not going anywhere. When you're ready...
if you're ever ready, I'll be here. But I'm not doing this because I expect something from you.
I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do, regardless if anything ever happens between us. "
I squeeze his hand, holding on like he's the only solid thing in a world that's spinning out of control. "Thank you," I whisper.
We sit like that for a while, hands linked, not saying anything. And then I stand up, because if I don't leave now, I'm going to do something I'm not ready for. "I should try to sleep," I say.
"Yeah. Okay."
I make it to the stairs before I turn back. "Ryan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here."
He smiles. "Me too."
I go upstairs and lie in bed in a room that's not mine, in a house that's not mine, waiting for news about a husband who stopped being mine a long time ago.
And I don't sleep at all.