by T. K. Rapp
I returned her smile. “I hope it was good.”
She nodded as she directed me to the hall, noting his office was the third on the left. That was the last peaceful moment I had at his office. When I finally made my way to his door, I could hear him speaking to someone, so I waited outside until he was done.
“Listen, Alex,” Ryan’s voice was authoritative. “I know this is taking up a lot of time, but we have to get this done. I skipped out on going home for this.”
When Alex responded, my stomach dropped. “No one told you to cancel. This could have waited until next week.”
Alex is a woman?
I wrack my brain, trying to figure out if he had ever mentioned this detail. “Besides, I’d much rather go out tonight and deal with all this later.” Her voice was low and seductive, and my stomach started to turn.
“Fine, do what you gotta do, and I’ll get as much of this done this weekend as I can.” When he said that, a wave of relief washed over me, right before disappointment.
“You can at least have one drink, right?” she purred, causing my blood to boil.
“Sorry, not this time-” he answered. I didn’t stay to hear the rest of their exchange; I hurried out of the office, thanking Ms. Hall for her help. I didn’t want Ryan to see me there; I felt like an intruder.
Joss called as I was getting into the cab. “Why didn’t you call when you landed?”
“Hello to you, too.”
“Hello,” she answered, formality out of the way. “So are you there yet?”
“I went to his office,” I admitted, running my hand through my hair in frustration.
“And?”
“And- Alex, the guy he works with- was there.”
“So? Do you know the guy or something?” she asks, mimicking my tone.
“No,” I answer curtly. “Alex is a woman.”
Silence. Joss didn’t have anything to say; I guess she was stunned into silence.
“I’m heading to his place as planned, I’ll figure everything out then. Call you later, ‘kay?”
“Yeah,” she dragged out. “Later.”
The cab dropped me off in front of his complex and fortunately I remembered where to go. My key opened the door to his place and it was just as nice as I recalled, but now it was lived in and he had it set up exactly how I imagined he would. The living room is so small that a sofa and chair make the space feel even smaller. A TV sits on a cheap particleboard shelf he probably picked up one weekend when he was bored; it looks like crap. The place screamed bachelor pad to me and made my heart sad. A pizza box sat on the counter; empty beer bottles looked stacked for recycle and bare walls confirmed my fears. I was forgotten.
I walked into his bedroom and I felt like I didn’t belong; I was intruding on his private space. That was until I saw by the bed; a frame from home that I didn’t even notice was missing, containing a picture of us from right after we got engaged. I picked up the picture and hugged it to my chest before walking back to the sofa with it. I laid down, and somewhere along the way, I fell asleep, only to wake up to Ryan’s key rattling in the door.
“What the hell!” Ryan says as he pushes open the door, stunned by my presence. The greeting is a far cry from the romantic, dramatic version I created in my head.
“Hey,” I manage, rubbing my eyes, trying to assess his mood. Ryan is clearly shocked as he stands there staring at me.
“What are you doing here, Em?” He asks as he walks over and pulls me into an awkward hug.
“Five weeks.” That is my answer. Five weeks. He pushes me back to look at me, and when my eyes don’t meet his, he bends down to see into mine. There is an unspoken conversation happening, but I need the words that only he can give me.
Instead of speaking, he grasps my face between his hands and kisses me softly, and I feel his apology. When I try to speak, he silences me with his mouth and I give up, allowing him to take control. He tugs my hand and leads me to the bedroom to show me how much he has missed me.
Now I’m laying here next to him with the ceiling fan blasting cool air on my face, my eyes concentrating on the circular movement. My mind won’t shut off to let me bask in the lovemaking that took place. All I can think about is Alex, Trey, distance, and fleeting moments.
“Are you okay?” His voice filters through my thoughts and I turn my head to face him.
“So Alex is a girl, huh?” I’m not mad, I’m not accusing. I’m just questioning what I already know to be true.
He turns to face me, bearing his weight on his arm that propped under him before responding. “What are you talking about?”
“I went to your office earlier, I was going to surprise you there, but then I heard her. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ryan’s look remains unfazed by my question, and I know I have nothing to be worried about. Until he speaks again. “Why didn’t you tell me I know your client, Mr. Miller?”
I swear my heart just stopped, or at the very least, the planet ran out of air. “I-, I mean,” I scramble to face him, trying to find the words, but nothing works. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“And what do you think it looks like to me?”
Shit! I backed myself into that one.
“I had no idea who he was. I was drunk that night at the bar; I didn’t even remember him until the end of our first meeting. I went…” I’m unable to finish my explanation because I see it now. “Wait! You knew who he was? And you didn’t say anything?”
“Yeah, as soon as he walked up to you when we went out last time, I knew. Still don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.”
“There was nothing to tell,” I reply a bit too defensively.
“Was? As in there is now?”
“He remembered me, and asked about you,” I tell him, recalling Trey’s comments the first time I met him. “I told him we’re engaged and that was the extent of the conversation. So, why didn’t you tell me about Alex?” I ask, mimicking his tone.
He shrugs his shoulder and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want you to worry because there was nothing to worry about.”
“I heard the way she talked to you, she’s interested in you.” And why wouldn’t she be, he’s young, handsome, and nice; what’s not to like?
“And I saw the way he looked at you, Em. I’m not blind; he wants you.” His voice is sardonic and perplexed all at once.
I groan and close my eyes, not liking where this conversation is heading. “I don’t care what Alex wants or what Trey wants. What do you want, Ryan?”
“Honestly, I’m just not sure. I think we need to do some serious thinking about what we’re about to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
He rolls over and looks down at me with a sad face. “I’m talking about getting married.”
CHAPTER 19
My entire world stopped turning when Ryan said those words. I tried to argue with him, but he insisted that we needed time to think and figure out if getting married was what we still wanted. I left that night and waited at the airport, hoping to get a seat on a flight heading home. I had high hopes for our time together, but when it came down to it, the tension between us was heavy and I knew that nothing was going to be solved by the end of the weekend.
The entire plane ride, I alternated between sniffling and avoiding stares of concerned passengers, to sweating profusely from anger. I kept replaying the conversation over again, looking for any signs of what he was thinking, but he didn’t hide anything, he said exactly what he meant.
“Do you not want to get married anymore?” I asked, willing my tears to stay away.
“It’s not that, I just think that we didn’t really know what we were getting into when we decided to get married,” he explained. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but we need to.”
“What are we supposed to talk about? The fact that you apparently regret asking me to marry you? You’re the one who said we could make this work, and n
ow you’re giving up. Like that? You must want out,” I argued, getting out of bed, angry that just ten minutes before we had made love.
All of my hopes and dreams were tied up in the forever I pictured for us. I guess that was my first mistake. Forever is something I want, but thinking that he was solely responsible for providing it was unfair to him. He insisted that we take the next week to think things out, and talk about it later, when we came to a decision. Needless to say, this week has been a blur, with me going through the motions at work, and collapsing when I get home.
We agreed to give it a full week until we talked again, but I can’t wait until Friday. Tomorrow feels like a lifetime away and the ache in my heart grows heavier every day.
My sister has always been the one to pick me up when things have gone bad. Right now, things are terrible. I wish I could just let it go and pretend that everything is okay. But no matter how much I try to push the bad out of my head, it creeps back in. Since I don’t want to burden Langley with my bad relationship crap, I call mom, because she is the only one who can help me right now. I hope this Scott character isn’t around when I call.
It’s times like these that I wish my mother lived in the same town so I could cry on her shoulder. I pick up the next best thing, my phone, from the counter and head outside to the balcony of our apartment. The fall air is getting crisp, so I grab a blanket to wrap around me. This is my favorite time of year because I get to cuddle with Ryan. Sitting on the patio, alone in one of the chairs, leaves me feeling lonelier than ever, so I dial my mom’s number before I can stop myself, and of course she answers on the first ring.
“Emmy-girl,” she says in a singsong tone. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Hi, mom. You busy?”
“Not too busy to talk to you,” she coos, annoyingly chipper. I assume boyfriend is gone and she’s drunk because I haven’t heard her this happy in a while. Ever since dad left, mom has refused to be alone. Luckily she never really brought men around until Langley and I were out of the house. But Lang says this new guy is trouble. The longer I remain quiet, the harder it is to find the words to tell her what’s going on. I realize that I still haven’t said anything when she speaks up. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” I cry as a harsh sob escapes, “it’s not.” And just like that, I’m a blubbering mess. I tell her everything. I tell her about Trey and his feelings for me. I tell her about Ryan and the girl at work. I tell her about the secrets we’ve kept from each other and fall apart when I tell her that Ryan wants us to think. When I’m done, a silence settles across the phone line and I think, for a moment, that we were disconnected. “Mom?”
“Sweetie,” she starts, and I know I’m not going to like what comes next. “What did you expect? Of course it’s falling apart, you’re keeping secrets from each other, why do you think your dad and I didn’t work out?”
“Ryan is nothing like dad,” I seethe, my voice is dangerously low. Ryan is a good man, and he loves me.
“No, he’s not. But your father and I got married young, too young. We didn’t get to experience life. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything, because I have you and your sister.”
“Wait, so are you saying I should walk away?” My nervous nail biting habit hits at this moment, and I refrain for only a moment, before remember that she can’t see me anyway.
“Not at all. You know I love Ryan.” She’s careful to choose her words, knowing the short fuse I’m on. “But you two have time.”
“We’re older than you were when you got married,” I counter, “so maybe it isn’t an age thing.”
“Em, you didn’t grow up witnessing a successful marriage. You were eight when the ‘donor’, as you so aptly refer to him, left. We fought all the time, he was a drunk and the day he walked out, I thanked God he was gone.”
I shake my head at her words, calling him a drunk. I can hear the slur in her voice through the phone, and she thinks I don’t know. She’s always thought she hid things so well, but I know it killed her when dad left; she was in love with him, flaws and all. It was when he left that she began to drink.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I ask with sadness in my voice. “I don’t like what’s happening to us.”
“I know you don’t, but do what he’s asking. Think about what you want, and listen to what he wants. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.”
She’s quiet, and I know she’s thinking about him again. “Are you okay, mom?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles as she clears her throat, removing all emotion from her tone with the sip of her drink. “I’m good.”
I know she’s lying, but I let it go for now. “Thanks for the talk. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When I hang up the phone, questions I have been unwilling to ask myself float to the surface. And in the quiet of night, I have nothing else to do but answer them. The night air is quickly cooling, so I head back in through the screen doors and take a seat on the beige cloth couch to warm up. The questions repeat in my head like a bad song that I can’t shake.
Are we too young?
Is Ryan looking for a way out?
Do I have feelings for Trey?
Are we meant to be together?
I’m a problem solver. I fix and arrange things all day long. Why can’t I fix this? Since the answers aren’t coming to me easy, I blow out a harsh breath and walk to my, our, bedroom and notice how empty the place is without him. The dress that I wore to work is in a puddle on the floor where I slipped it off, but so are my clothes from the last few days. I release an exasperated sigh before deciding to ignore the growing mess.
All around our tiny apartment are snapshots of Ryan and me; every single one of them reminds me of how much I love him. I pull an album from the shelf in my closet to find the picture I’m looking for; the day Ryan proposed to me. It was the happiest day of my life.
Ryan arranged for my mom and Langley to surprise us in Las Vegas even though he told me that the two of us were going alone, as an early graduation present. I was excited because I’d never been to Vegas. We spent the first day gambling, but that evening we walked all over the strip. He stopped at several wedding chapels along the way, making jokes about getting married in a casino. I finally told him that if he didn’t stop, I’d make him do it and then he’d be stuck with me.
We walked around, holding hands, until we stopped in front of a little white chapel that was busting at the seams with people waiting to get married. He turned to me and said, “Let’s do it.” It was like he was challenging me to object, but I never back down. So I played along, knowing he wouldn’t go through with it. When they called his name, we walked to the altar and it became clear he was going to go through with it.
The minister started speaking and it all became a blur until Ryan waved his arm to stop the guy and looked right at me. “Emogen Rae deserves more. She deserves flowers and ‘I love yous’ and family.” He looked past me, and I followed his gaze to see my mom and Langley, followed by his mom and dad. When I turned back to look at him, he was down on one knee with a ring in hand, looking at me like I was his world.
His eyes were glassy and his voice broke when he spoke. “Em, I wasn’t expecting you when you found me, but you brought laughter and happiness back into my life. Every day since has been better than the last. I will spend the rest of my life, trying to make you as happy as you make me. Emogen Rae Kane, will you marry me?”
My body felt heavy and I could not stand any longer, falling to my knees in front of him. I was sobbing and laughing while he hugged me. When I said yes, his breathtaking smile was my reward, and I knew then and there that our forever would be amazing.
It wasn’t the way he proposed that touched me, it was his words and the way he said them. I felt every ounce of love pour from those words and thinking about that day, I feel them now.
I love Ryan.
He’s it, the only person in this world that I want and if I have find work in Calif
ornia to be with him, that’s what I’ll do for us. Our life together is what I want.
Tears fill my eyes, but only because I know in my soul that we are supposed to be together. With my newfound confidence intact, I pick up the phone and find Ryan’s name before I lose my nerve. I may not surrender a fight, but this is one time I don’t mind, because I will be a winner in the end. This realization solidifies my resolve to see this phone call through and tell Ryan how much I need him in my life.
On the third ring, I figure he’s not going to answer and I drop the phone from my ear, only to hear his strained voice answer. I listen for a moment too long and he speaks up. “Em? Everything okay?”
“No, it’s not, Ryan. I can’t wait until tomorrow,” I try to remain calm before continuing. “Since I left you, I have done everything I can think of to avoid thinking about our problems, but it was always there and all I’ve done is think. I don’t need another day, I know what needs to be done.”
“I was going to call you, too,” he says softly.
“Okay, well, you go ahead, this was your idea,” I offer, and wait for him to speak.
The silence stretches and with every second that passes, dread fills me, and it’s confirmed when he speaks. “This isn’t working, Em,” he whispers so quiet, I think I must have imagined it.
This has to be a joke. I look around the apartment for something to tell me I’m losing my mind, because I did not just hear those words come from Ryan’s mouth. “You there?”
A desperate sob escapes, and I don’t care to stop it. “What? Are you serious?”
“Oh God,” he sighs, and I know he expected me to come to the same conclusion. “Em, no. It’s just, I’ve done a lot of thinking, and things have been a mess for a while,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.
