Not Without You

by Watson, A. P.

  “Thanks, babe. It also helps that the beautiful scene of Liam getting his ass beat into the ground has imprinted itself in my memory.”

  “And while the best part was Liam getting what was coming to his lying, cheating ass, it only made it even better that the guy fucking up his world was dressed in women’s lingerie.”

  “Seriously, there’s a special place in heaven for Ryan.”

  “Yeah, there really is.”

  A loud gasp distracted me from the blue eyes swimming through my mind. “I knew it!” she shouted. “You got in over your head.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Not alone, you didn’t.”

  Well . . . she actually had a point there. “Hey, Dad just started yelling at me, so I better let you go.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “Can we not right now?”

  “We can do whatever you want. Ball’s in your court, so to speak.”

  “I’ll call you when I leave.”

  “Alright, love you, babe.”

  “Love you too.”

  I ended the call and tossed my phone on the floor. Ry stopped messaging me two days ago. After I failed to respond to his pleas to talk, he became silent. Not that I deserved a response from him, but my Jane Austen-infused brain was hoping he would track me down and confront me. Lord knew I wasn’t bold enough to make any contact of that nature. However, deep down, I wished he’d be the one to save me from myself.

  Because I certainly wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own. Nuzzling beneath the comforter covering my bed, I willed my body and mind to rest. No sooner than I found some semblance of respite, Dad was knocking on the door to my room.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yeah, it’s not locked.”

  He moved to sit on the edge of my bed. Even though there were a few wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes and mouth, he still looked fairly young. “So, I take it Wren is doing okay?”

  “She’s been really busy with work and school, but you know her, there’s nothing she can’t handle.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  He scratched the area of his scalp directly above his right ear. It was the only patch of gray in his hair. “I know you’re probably still stuffed from dinner, but I wanted to ask if there’s anything I can get you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. But I’m okay.”

  He stood and stepped around the paints and canvases littering the floor. “I really like this one.” The painting was an image he was more than familiar with. In the painting, Dad knelt at Mom’s feet while his lips caressed her outstretched hand. Her white gown and bouquet of peonies were utter perfection in my opinion. My mom had been the most beautiful bride. When I was really little, I chased after the dream of wearing a dress just like hers one day. And I wasn’t one of those girls who wanted the attention only a wedding could provide. If I ever got married, I wanted it to be because I’d found someone who completed my soul.

  “It’s one of the paintings I’ll be featuring in the show.”

  “You captured her smile perfectly. I love it and I know she would too.”

  “When the show is over, I planned on giving you a couple of the pieces I created.” Sitting up, my fingers began twisting a long section of my hair. “Each painting is of her. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, because it’s also a reminder of what you lost.”

  He leaned forward to pat my arm. “I’m going to have to disagree with you there, because I see it as a reminder of everything I had.”

  “If you had the chance to do it all again, is there anything you would change?”

  Would you still marry her knowing she’d die years ahead of you? We both understood the true question my heart longed to ask.

  Dad answered without hesitation. “Not a damn thing.” I knew he was informing me that the sadness he endured would never outweigh the happiness he’d felt.

  “Thanks for listening to me these past few days.”

  “You mean thanks for letting you hide out?” he teased.

  “Geez, you didn’t sugar coat that at all, did you? Has Wren been texting you?”

  “She may have sent me a message or two to ask about you.”

  “Bunch of traitors.”

  “She’s your best friend. You know she has a right to be concerned about you.”

  “I suppose so—”

  “Terayn,” he countered in a stern tone.

  “Alright, so you may have a point. I would be doing the exact same thing if our roles were reversed.”

  “How about we have another movie marathon to get your mind off things.”

  “Okay, but can we watch Star Wars this time?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Deal.”

  I crawled out of bed and retrieved my phone before following him down the steps. Our home was like many others—mostly neutral tones, a few dents and scratches here and there from years of being lived in, pictures along the walls of the stairwell. But unlike other homes, many drawings that I had created over the years were littered among the photographs.

  Every inch of this house had been filled with love and laughter, and although Mom was no longer with us, Dad wanted to make sure I knew he wouldn’t trade the years they’d spent together for anything.

  Rounding the bottom banister, I entered the kitchen and poured us each a glass of water. Dad was already throwing a bag of popcorn into the microwave. “Just so you know, there are two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer.”

  “Really?” I asked, my voice the epitome of glee. “You know how I feel about mint chocolate chip.”

  “Yes, I remember. I’m the one who was covered in green puke, after all.”

  “So I’m not the best with portion control.”

  Dad’s laughter rang throughout the kitchen. “No, you’re not the best with listening.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “I told you not to keep eating the ice cream because it was going to give you a stomachache, and what did you do? You continued eating it in secret until you puked.”

  Heading in the direction of the refrigerator, I cringed at the memory. “In my defense, mint chocolate chip is delicious.”

  “While that may be true, it doesn’t mean I want to be covered in its regurgitated form.”

  I joined in his laughter, removing both containers of ice cream. Needless to say, I was lucky he could even love me again after enduring something so disgusting. But then again, that’s what parents do. They love us in spite of our faults. They love us no matter what.

  And yet, that wasn’t the case with Ry’s dad. His father didn’t care at all.

  It was impossible for me to fathom what that must have felt like for him. Someone he’d believed hung the moon bailed without hesitation. Was his father even aware of the man he had become? Ry possessed a level of compassion some of us can only dream of. He didn’t allow his father’s mistakes to keep him from being a decent human being. Somehow, despite everything he’d suffered, Ry still found the courage to trust me. He cared for me so deeply, so completely, and how did I repay him?

  By bailing, just like his father did.

  A lump formed in the back of my throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. The revelation of what I had done hit me like a sack of bricks. My hands opened, and I watched as the ice cream plummeted toward the tile floor. Running away was supposed to be my way of protecting both of us. If Ry realized how terrible I was, then he would be free to fall for someone who deserved to be loved.

  At least, that was the piss-poor reasoning I’d used to justify my actions. In hindsight, I could finally see how big of an idiot I was. I wasn’t protecting Ry.

  All I did was make him relive one of his worst memories.

  All I did was reaffirm the buried belief that he wasn’t good enough for his father—and that he wasn’t good enough f
or me.

  Tears welled in the corners of my eyes before streaming down the curves of my cheeks. How could I have been so blind? The redemption I’d been searching for all along had stood right before me and I was choosing to run away. “Dad . . .”

  Sliding an arm around my shoulders, he pulled me in for a quick hug. “I was wondering when you were going to figure all of this out.”

  “I can’t believe it took me so long,” I cried.

  “Better late than never.”

  Wiping at the smudged mascara covering my face, I released a deep sigh. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me?”

  “I doubt that will be the case, angel.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I have a good feeling about it. We all make mistakes. That’s what it means to be human. If you can apologize and be upfront with him, I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Rain check on the movies?”

  “Of course.”

  I pecked him on the cheek and took off for the stairs. Climbing them two at a time, I hurled myself through the door to my room. The entire space looked as if a hurricane had torn through it, but I didn’t have time to care. There was somewhere I needed to be. Racing around the room, I tossed my clothes and painting supplies into the duffel bag I’d brought. Then I added my toiletries and makeup to the mess.

  When I was done, the only things left untouched were the canvases I’d propped against my dresser. In all, I spent five minutes packing. Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I headed for the kitchen once more. Dad stood in the center of the room, holding my keys and a thick jacket. Taking them both, I pulled on the jacket and zipped up the front before rushing forward to hug him.

  “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime. Be safe driving back to school.” He held on to me tight for a few minutes before finally letting go. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Gathering up my things, I headed for the front door.

  “And, angel, there’s no need to be afraid anymore.”

  I smiled at him. He was absolutely right. “I know. I won’t be.”

  Sprinting for my car, I tossed everything in the back and slid behind the wheel. As I backed out of the driveway, I decided to call Wren.

  “Hey, what’s up? Have you finally decided to tell me what is really going on?” she questioned, sounding bored.

  “I’m on my way back to school. Can you meet me later?”

  “Of course.”

  “Awesome.”

  “Are you heading to his apartment first?”

  I drove through my hometown, not daring to speed. The cops here had nothing better to do than hand out tickets. And I wasn’t about to give them any more work. “Yeah.”

  “He may not be there. He told me earlier he was going to hang out with Logan.”

  “He did?”

  “Have you tried calling him?”

  I swallowed thickly. “I don’t think he’d answer.”

  “Just how bad of a number did you do on him?”

  “Do I really have to answer that question?”

  “No,” she answered. “All you have to do is fix it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you once I’m back in Knox.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Turning up the volume on my radio, I took the fastest route for the interstate. Should I call him and attempt to explain my actions over the last three days, or should I wait and let it be a surprise? Both options had their own unique pros and cons. When I left, he’d begged me to talk to him, to trust him, and I could only hope he could be stronger than I was and actually do so when I asked.

  Suppressing the doubt that was bubbling up from my stomach, I sucked in a deep breath and called him. An eternity elapsed between each unanswered ring. Silent prayers passed through my lips as I hoped above all else that he would pick up. Eventually, the call went to voicemail. Not one to give up, I called him three more times.

  But with each call, there was still no answer.

  I couldn’t blame his hesitancy. In the privacy of his bedroom, I promised to hand myself over to him. He tasted me, touched me, and just as he was about to give me more, I fled. If I’d continued to tread water, I’d been convinced I wouldn’t be saved. Instead, I expected to drown.

  Pine trees whirred by, blending into a smear of green as I barreled down the interstate. It would be dusk soon. Miles of road passed beneath the car as I continued toward my destination. The sky began to darken and I switched on my lights. There were only a handful of other cars out, and my foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, as if it were made of lead and not flesh. Anticipation swelled inside of me. What if he refused to see me? Should I keep trying, or should I give him peace? I chewed on my lip so hard I was surprised it didn’t bleed. No matter what happened, the important thing was that I had to try to make amends. I needed to apologize for my actions and, at the very least, preserve the friendship Ry and I shared. Even if he refused any type of romantic entanglement, I was determined to have him in my life in some capacity.

  Not only for me, but for Wren as well. In the past month, she’d come so far. After everything that went down, she hit rock bottom. But Ry helped me lift her up. He was there for her, for both of us really, and I didn’t want to sacrifice a friendship she had come to rely on.

  Usually, the drive between home and Knox takes around two hours, but I was turning on Volunteer Parkway after only an hour and forty minutes of driving. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. I’d be pulling into the parking lot of Ry’s apartment soon, and there was too much nervous energy coursing through my body.

  The moment I threw my car in park, I jumped out and raced for his apartment. I just needed a chance to explain everything. That’s all I wanted. Slamming my fist against his door, I prayed for divine intervention.

  Please let him open the door.

  If I could talk to him right now, I’d want for nothing the rest of my life.

  After three more knocks, I began to grow desperate. “Ry, please open up. It’s me. I need to talk to you.”

  My plea was met with silence. Another three knocks and still nothing. Whipping around, I scanned the parking lot for his car. That should have been the first thing I’d done, but in a rush of adrenaline, common sense had failed me.

  But his Jeep was here. It was parked four spaces to the left of my car.

  “Ry!”

  “I don’t want to talk. You should leave.” Even through the door, I could hear the harshness in his tone.

  “But.”

  “I mean it.”

  Backing away from the door, I prayed this was all a figment of my imagination. And yet, there was no mistaking the hatred lacing his voice.

  “Please, just—”

  “Go,” he shouted through the door.

  Wren and my dad had both been mistaken. Ry didn’t want to see me; he didn’t want me anywhere near him. And I couldn’t even blame him. I fucked up and betrayed his trust.

  I ran for my car, tears pouring from my eyes at a rapid pace. This was what I deserved, what I earned. All actions have consequences. It’s a universal truth you learn as a child. I had planted the seed of his anger, and the time had come for me to reap what I’d sown.

  I barely remembered getting in my car, much less starting the ignition. My mind was in a state of utter terror. It recalled every touch Ry and I had shared as if the memories would be ripped away at any moment. Every fiber of my being was functioning on autopilot as I drove to Wren’s. Relief filled my muscles as I parked my car next to hers. Grabbing my phone and purse, I sprinted for her apartment.

  “Wren,” I called out, beating my hand against her door.

  Half a second later, I was face-to-face with my best friend. “Oh, Ter. What happened?” Sliding her arm around my waist, she led me inside.

  “I went to his place to talk, and at first, I thought he wasn’t there because he didn’t answer the door.” My sadness was all-enveloping. �
�But then he finally told me that he didn’t want to talk to me and asked me to leave.”

  “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  There was no stopping my tears, so instead of trying to fight against the current, I let them fall. “His voice was filled with so much anger. I doubt he’ll ever want to see me again.”

  “You don’t know that. I bet he just needs some time to cool off.”

  “He hates me, and I can’t even blame him for it. If I were him, I would hate me too.” Collapsing on her bed, I immediately curled into a ball. Behind me, I could feel the weight of Wren’s body settling on top of the comforter. She didn’t say a single word as she wrapped her arms around me, hugging my body to hers. “I finally meet a guy capable of holding my interest and I bailed. What the hell is wrong with me?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  “Hah,” I replied with a hiccup. “I’m so screwed up that I can’t even let myself fall for someone.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  “How so?”

  “You did let yourself fall for him, and that’s why this hurts so much.”

  “I’m glad you’re not working tonight.”

  “Me too.” Her arms squeezed me even tighter, and it reminded me of a night from many years ago. The day we’d buried my mother, I couldn’t stop crying. Part of me believed it was all some kind of elaborate rouse. My mom had always been so healthy, so full of life that she couldn’t possibly die before she was old and gray. I was adrift, lost in an endless sea of agony. But Wren was my anchor. She held on to me as I cried for hours on end. She had always been there to comfort me when I was at my worst, and it seemed she always would be. “It doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow, or even a month from now, but eventually, we do need to talk about everything.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

  “Me too, babe.”

  Me too.

  I SPENT A WEEK at Wren’s apartment. For three of those days, I refused to shower. Honestly, it was a miracle she didn’t throw me out. She should have. At night, she would go to the hospital and work for twelve hours straight, and then in the morning, she would come home and listen to me cry. And to top it off, she didn’t even complain. The woman was a true saint, because the majority of the human population wouldn’t demonstrate so much compassion or tolerance. She didn’t even try to pull me out of my depression. Instead, she allowed me to experience the multitude of emotions I was feeling. She understood my need to be sad. Life isn’t a vacuum, and even though we try our best, it’s impossible to be happy all the time.