29 #5
I swallowed my regret before answering. “We hurt each other.”
“No.” She shook her head and looked at my back again when I turned to find the rest of my clothes. “Ryan, I—”
“Don’t.”
Her breath broke. I couldn’t listen to another apology. I couldn’t survive watching her turn the damage between us into another reason to hate herself, and I had nothing left capable of telling her it wasn’t all hers to carry.
Charm climbed carefully from the counter.
Her bare feet touched the cold tile before she knelt to gather her clothes.
Her hands shook as she retrieved her bra from beside the island and straightened the twisted strap before slipping it on beneath my jersey.
Her underwear disappeared into the pocket of her coat.
She found one boot near the refrigerator and the other beneath a chair, but she didn’t put them on.
She stood holding everything against her chest, wrapped in my name while tears moved silently down her face.
“Ryan, please.”
I bent to retrieve my pants and pulled them on. “Don’t.”
“Please don’t end it like this.”
“It was already over.”
“Then what was that?”
I fastened my pants with hands that barely worked. “Goodbye.”
Her face crumpled. “No.”
I looked away.
“No.” Her clothes fell from her arms as she crossed the kitchen. “You don’t get to call that goodbye. You don’t get to touch me like that and decide it means nothing.”
“I didn’t say it meant nothing.”
“Then say it meant something.”
“It meant everything!” My voice tore through the lodge, and tears burned my eyes too quickly to hide. “That’s the fucking problem.”
She stopped in front of me. I dragged one hand over my face and turned away, but she caught my arm.
“Then we don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, we do.”
“No, we don’t. Ryan, look at me.”
I stared at the window because I couldn’t look at her. Our reflection waited inside the dark glass. Charm stood behind me wearing my jersey while I remained half-dressed and bleeding, the kitchen destroyed around us by a celebration I hadn’t attended.
“We can figure this out,” she said. “We can be angry. You can hate me for a while, and I’ll take it. I’ll take all of it if you stop telling me there’s no chance.”
“That isn’t love.”
“What?”
“Standing here and offering to let me punish you so I won’t leave.” I finally turned around. “That isn’t fucking love, Charm.”
“I don’t know what else to do!”
“You say goodbye.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“Fuck you.”
Her hand struck my cheek again. I absorbed the blow, and then she hit me once more.
“Fuck you for doing this,” she cried. “Fuck you for deciding I’m not worth fighting for anymore. Fuck you for looking me in the face and telling me you love me while you throw me away.”
“I’m not throwing you away.”
“What the fuck do you call this?”
“Knowing when love isn’t enough.”
“It is enough!”
“It wasn’t when I needed it!”
The words hit hard enough to fold her inward. She straightened and struck me again.
“I was afraid!”
“I know.”
“I was trying to survive him!”
I nodded because no answer would penetrate the desperation inside her plea.
“I didn’t know how to choose you without losing everything!”
“I know.”
“Then why can’t you forgive me?”
I still saw the floor every time I closed my eyes. The worst part of me had spent every second since sharpening that moment until it could cut through every good thing that came before it. Loving her had never made me less afraid of what she could do to me.
I swallowed the thoughts hard enough to hurt.
“I meant what I said.” My voice cracked, and I hated the broken sound of it. “I know what walking away costs me.”
She shook her head harder. “You can’t.”
“I already have.”
“No, you haven’t. You’re standing right here.”
“I’m leaving for home tonight.”
The words stopped her. Her hand fell from my chest.
“Tonight?”
“There’s nothing here for me.”
“You were going to leave without telling me?”
“We aren’t together. I don’t tell you where I’m going anymore.”
A sob tore out of her, and she shoved me with both hands. “Stop saying that.”
“It’s over.”
“No.”
“It’s over, Charm.”
“No!” She beat her fists against my chest, frantic now, every strike landing over the heart she’d already shattered. “You’re angry. You’re hurt. You’re holding a fucking grudge, and you’re going to destroy both of us because you don’t know how to let it go.”
“I am holding a grudge.” I nodded as tears filled my eyes. “Nothing you say tonight will make me forget. Nothing you do will erase it.”
“That is so fucked-up.”
“I know.”
“You can forgive me.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t!”
“I fucking can’t!” My voice broke again.
“I want to be that guy. I want to believe I can wake up one day and stop seeing it, stop feeling it, and stop wondering whether fear will matter more than I do the next time I need you. I want to be the man who can love you enough to get past this, but I know myself better than you do. I’m built to cut and run before anybody gets another chance to finish me. ”
“You can.” Her fists kept striking me. “You can trust me. I’ll prove it. I’ll tell my father. I’ll walk away from all of it. I’ll get help for my anxiety and eating, and I’ll fix this. I swear I’ll fix this.”
“It’s over.”
“No.”
“It’s over.”
“Stop saying that!”
She hit me harder. I closed my eyes and let her.
I couldn’t stomach watching her fight after she’d already lost me. I couldn’t look at the terror in her face or the desperation dragging each breath from her body. Every blow gave her somewhere to put the pain, so I let her fists fall against my chest until they weakened.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, Ryan. Please don’t do this to me.”
I caught her wrists before she could hit me again. Her hands fought inside mine.
“Let go.”
“I can’t let you keep doing this.”
“Then don’t leave me!”
“Charm.”
“I love you so much.” Her voice collapsed. “Please don’t do this. Please. I’ll do anything.”
Tears slipped down my face. I pulled her closer by the wrists before releasing them and taking her face between my hands.
She went still.
My thumbs rested beneath her wet eyes. Her breath caught as I leaned closer, and for one last second, I let myself see all of her.
I saw the woman who fell asleep with poetry books open across my chest, the woman who learned Spanish to tell me she missed me and ask me to come back, and the woman who wore my jersey to the biggest game of my life but hid where I couldn’t find her because I told everyone to keep her away.
She had been my girl, and she would never be mine again.
I kissed her.
There was no rage in it this time, no punishment, teeth, or desperate attempt to force our bodies to finish a fight our hearts wouldn’t stop having. I held her face and kissed her with everything I would never be able to say without begging her to stay.
Charm couldn’t kiss me back. Her mouth trembled beneath mine while she cried, and when I pulled away, her eyes remained closed.
“Say goodbye, Charm.”
Her eyes flew open. “No.”
“Please.”
“No. Fuck you!” She tore her face from my hands. “I will not make this easier for you.”
A shattered laugh slipped out of me as my eyes moved toward the counter where I’d tried to destroy every feeling I had for her.