Chapter 31 #2
“Oh, there isn’t?” I scoff. “Because the way I see it, all of our problems right now stem from collabing with other people. So no, nothing is solved if we’re going to keep our work open.
” He opens his mouth to argue, and I cut him off.
“I think we need to take a break from making content altogether for a little while, and I want you to stop drinking every time you feel stressed. We need to figure out if we can make this work outside of our jobs.”
“Not possible,” Luke growls. “I know you’ve got a sweet setup with the money from your grandpa, but the rest of us have to work to pay our bills, Riley.
I can’t just quit my job for a few months and expect to pick right back up where I left off.
I’ve been building this business for years, and I’m not going to throw it away when it’s all I’ve got. ”
“You have me!” I shout, throwing my hands out in exasperation. “Why the fuck can’t you see that? Why won’t you just let me love you?!”
The word detonates like a bomb between us. Luke’s eyes are wide as saucers as he gapes at me, frozen in place.
A tear slides down my cheek, and I’m trembling all over, my heart racing so fast that I think it might beat out of my chest. “I love you, Luke,” I choke out. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you that it takes my breath away sometimes.”
His eyes are bright and filled with a fear I’ve never seen. I watch him struggling to swallow, as if his mouth has suddenly gone completely dry. The silence stretches between us, and my heart sinks.
Fear isn’t supposed to be the reaction the first time you tell someone you love them.
And suddenly, I realize the magnitude of what I’m dealing with.
This isn’t just about collabs with other people, or about drinking before a shoot, or about the rules.
There is something deeply fractured within Luke, something that isn’t visible on the surface.
I don’t know if he’s even recognized it himself yet, but it’s beginning to show in his mood swings and the way he clings to me at night, then pushes me away during the day.
What’s broken between us is probably deeply rooted in trauma left over from his childhood, but it can’t be repaired until he’s ready to face it… and I’m not sure he ever will be.
When he says nothing, I continue: “I never dreamed I could love someone the way that I love you. And that’s why I can’t just sit by and watch you self-destruct.
I can’t keep waiting and hoping that you’ll let me in when you’re constantly pushing me away and trying to find yourself at the bottom of a bottle.
” The tears are flowing freely now, and there’s nothing I can do to stifle them.
“I can’t keep having sex with you for work when something is obviously very, very wrong between us.
And I don’t want to work with anyone else anymore.
So I’m going to take a break. I don’t know how long, but I know I can’t just pretend everything is okay when it isn’t.
” I take a deep breath, knowing the answer to my next question before I ask it: “Will you please…please just take one month off work for me? For us.”
Luke’s jaw clenches and he swallows hard again, then closes his eyes…and shakes his head slowly. “I can’t do that,” he whispers.
Knowing it was coming did nothing to cushion the blow, and the sob I’ve been choking back finally breaks free.
“Then…I can’t do this with you anymore.” Numbly, I head toward the bedroom, my thoughts reeling with what I have to figure out next.
I don’t know if I can order a car for such a long drive, but I know I can’t stay here. If I don’t leave now, I won’t ever.
As I pass Luke, the weight of the situation suddenly seems to hit him, and his fear turns to panic. “Wait…baby, what?” He grabs at my arm, voice pitching up in alarm.
“I’m sorry, Luke.” I grit my teeth to try and fight back the tears, but they won’t stop coming now.
I can’t bring myself to say anything more, gently removing his hand from my arm and making my way into the bedroom.
I can’t bear to look at the sex-rumpled sheets from last night, turning my back and opening the dresser to remove my clothes.
I hear Luke’s footsteps follow me into the bedroom, and he makes a noise of panic in the back of his throat. “No,” he croaks, rushing over and attempting to push the dresser drawer shut. “I’m sorry… Please stay, baby… Please.”
I try to keep my expression neutral, but I shut my eyes tightly, knowing that if I look at his face, I’ll cave. “I’d like to go home,” I say finally, and I can hear the tremble in my voice.
“Okay, of course,” he agrees, relief flooding his features as he reaches to pull me to him. “We can go home.”
I take a step back before he can reach me. My tears are flowing freely now, and the sight of them sets him into a full-on panic. “Please, baby, we’ll go home,” he begs. “We’ll go home and—”
“No,” I cut him off, voice breaking. “I want to go home. To Oklahoma.” I swallow hard around the next word: “Alone.”
I don’t think the reality of the situation actually hits me until I cross the state line into Arizona.
I was completely numb as I rode back to LA, numb as I packed up the bedroom, numb as I crammed everything back into my car, numb as I removed the house key from my keyring and left it on the counter for Luke.
I’m honestly not sure how I made it this far, because I have no recollection of the first five hours of this drive.
My mind has been playing and replaying the image of Luke’s face, stricken with grief, as he begged me to stay.
Then don’t let me go, I wanted to scream.
Tears are welling up again, blurring my vision. The memory of Luke slumped on the porch of the house in Palm Springs, shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs as the cab put distance between us, will be burned in my brain forever.
Pulling into a truck stop, I check my phone and see that I already have a missed call and a voicemail from Luke.
My pulse is pounding in my ears as my finger hovers between the “play” and “delete” buttons for a moment while I work up the strength to do what I know I need to.
I know that if I hear his voice, I’ll turn the car around.
I can’t quite bring myself to press “delete,” though, and turn my phone off instead.
Heading into the gas station, I take a minute to pull myself together in the bathroom before grabbing some coffee and hitting the road again. I’ve still got nearly eighteen hours of driving ahead of me, and I want to make it as far as possible today.
With my phone off, I busy myself trying to find a radio station that will come through in the middle of nowhere, and of course, my only options are a radio show that I remember my mom listening to when I was a kid, where a woman takes requests for love songs from callers, and AM talk radio. Talk radio it is then, I guess.
As the voices drone on and the miles pass, I think through every minute of the last forty-eight hours, trying to come up with any possible alternate outcome.
I didn’t wake up this morning thinking that breaking up with Luke was even a remote possibility.
I thought we might argue, but I never dreamed the day would end this way.
My throat is suddenly tight as I realize I’ll never get to make love to him again.
I would have savored it so much more if I had known that last night would be our last time.
Did I even kiss him this morning? My chest aches at the thought that I don’t remember our last kiss.
Nothing about last night or today was supposed to be the last.
Have I made a mistake?
No. Luke left me no other choice. He wasn’t willing to work on a solution to our problems, and staying would have only made it harder to leave when things eventually fractured beyond repair.
We could have fixed this, I know we could have…
but that choice wasn’t mine alone to make, and Luke made his stance on the matter very clear.
I don’t do too much praying these days, but looking backward isn’t helping me either. So I grip the steering wheel tighter and talk to God the way I used to when I was a kid, searching for the courage to keep driving east. I can’t turn back now. I did the right thing.
Even if it does break my heart.
I have to pull over on the side of the road to break down and cry again when I pass the Welcome to Oklahoma sign.
I’m running on about three hours of sleep on a shitty mattress in a sketchy hotel in Albuquerque, and I’m so overwhelmed by the exhaustion, heartbreak, and relief that I can’t do anything but cry.
I burst into tears again as soon as I pull into my parents’ driveway.
I manage to get the car into park before I’m slumped over the wheel, sobs wracking my body so hard I can feel them in my bones.
I can’t breathe. I can’t make myself step out of this car and into my childhood home, because that will be it.
I won’t be the Riley Cunningham who lives in West Hollywood with Luke Larson and his dog, who makes adult content with his boyfriend that he’s madly in love with, even if that boyfriend doesn’t love him back yet.
I’m just the Riley Cunningham who ran home crying from a broken heart, who failed to make it on his own.
A gentle tap on the car window and tug at the door handle startles me out of my thoughts, and I look up to see my mom’s concerned face gazing back at me.
I fumble to unlock the door and immediately fling myself into her arms, crying even harder as she wraps me up in a warm embrace. God, I really needed a hug from my mom.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She’s trying to be calm and supportive with zero information, but I can hear the worry lacing her voice. “What are you doing home?”
I can’t answer her for a few minutes, and I know I’m probably freaking her out, just showing up unannounced like this. But it’s like a dam has burst inside me, and apparently, I’m going to cry until my eyes can’t produce any more tears.
Mom just stands there and takes it, shushing me gently and squeezing me tight.
Finally, I’m able to stop crying enough to choke out a few words: “Luke…he’s…we fought, I think, and…I left…”
“Oh, sweetheart…okay, come on inside.” She herds me up the front steps and deposits me on the couch, pulling a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table.
“Your dad will be home from work soon; he can help you unpack the car later. Now take a few deep breaths and I’ll fix you some herbal tea, okay? ”
I sniffle and nod, the dull ache in my heart easing just a little.
Mom returns after a few minutes with two steaming mugs of tea and huddles next to me on the couch, putting her arm around me and pulling me into another hug. “Now, tell me what’s wrong?”
“Everything, Mom,” I choke out, feeling myself on the brink of tears again already.
How do I have any left? My eyes are already swollen and raw.
I don’t think I can take another sobbing session.
“I mean, everything was so good, and living with Luke was amazing, but then when he had to work with someone else—”
I snap my mouth shut in horror, realizing what I almost revealed to my mom, and I scramble to think of another way to tell her what happened, when she laughs softly. “Oh, sweetie…I know that Luke is a porn star.”
I pull back to gape at her in shock. “I…wha-what do you…how did you…?” I stutter.
She gives me a knowing look. “Come on now…did you really think I wasn’t going to find out everything I could about the man my baby was dating? I’m not too old to use the internet, you know. Just because you won’t let me follow you on social media doesn’t mean that I can’t find things on there.”
“So…you know about…me, then,” I mumble, dropping my gaze to my mug. I’m not ashamed of the work I’ve been doing. But I’m a little embarrassed that my mom found out.
She nods sympathetically. “I know you’re an adult, and you don’t owe us any explanation about your life. But I’m sorry if your dad or I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be open and honest about your job or your relationship. All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“No, it’s not that,” I say quickly. “I knew you wouldn’t judge me, it’s just…kind of awkward, you know?”
“Well now that everything is out in the open, start from the beginning.”
Mom sips her tea and listens intently as I tell her the entire story, and I’m pretty sure I’m finally out of tears by the time I get to the part about Palm Springs and how I left and drove all the way here.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she says finally. “But I’m so proud of you for being so mature and speaking up for yourself and what you needed from the relationship, too. It sounds like Luke has a lot to work through, and you did the right thing.”
Her words lift the heavy weight that’s been crushing me since I had to watch the love of my life fall apart as I drove away.
Suddenly, I feel as if every muscle in my body has finally given up supporting me.
My exhaustion is bone deep, and it’s the only thing that’s going to help me get any sleep tonight.
Mom pulls me into a tight hug, and I have two thoughts at once:
One, I’m so grateful to have a family that loves me and supports me no matter what.
And two, I’m worried that Luke doesn’t.