Chapter Twenty-Three
Ryder
It’s been three weeks since I’ve had any contact with Madison or the boys. I glance at the watch on my wrist. Twenty-one days, fourteen hours, six minutes, and thirty-seven... thirty-eight... thirty-nine seconds to be exact. Every tick that goes by is another second I’m not spending with them. The first couple of days I was gone, I was able to handle the pain a bit better since I got to talk to Aiden. That was until Madison kindly informed me she would not be passing the phone to her son because it would only confuse him and make him more upset when I didn’t go back. Now, the never-ending ache in my chest can only be described as brutal.
I can’t believe I’m sitting here alone in my brand-new house, staring at the empty Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room. The tree we were supposed to decorate together. There’s still no furniture in any of the rooms except for my bed and that damn dining table I can’t bear to eat at. The fact that I had Madison bent over that very table while I fucked her raw is an image I can never forget no matter how hard I try. Her nail marks are carved into the wood for fucks sake.
She’s everywhere. I see her wherever I go, mistake her for strangers walking down the street. She’s a part of me, part of my heart, part of my soul. No one could ever, will ever take her place in my life. I scoff. “Yeah right, what fucking life?”
This is what it’s come down to, sitting on the floor, talking to myself in an empty house, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with my empty fucking life. I miss those boys. I miss them so goddamn much it hurts. Maybe this is my punishment for treating women like my own personal playthings, not caring about them one bit after I got what I wanted. Yep, this is definitely my punishment. The one time I finally let my guard down and allow people into my heart was the moment they were ripped out of my life forever. Karma is a bitch and right now I’m getting fucked in the ass big time. The loud knock on the door brings me out of my self-loathing for half a second, then I go right back to sulking and feeling sorry for myself.
Quito’s voice booms from the other side of the door. “I know you’re in there Ryder. Open the door!”
“Just leave me alone!” I scream back.
“Ryder, open the fucking door before I kick it in. It’s fucking cold out here and it’s starting to snow!”
“Then go home!”
“Ryder!”
Reluctantly, I get up off the floor and go open the door for him. A strong, blistery gust of wind hits my face as snow blows inside onto my shiny, hardwood floor. I don’t wait for him to come in. I walk right back into the living and sit on the floor next to my pathetic, undecorated tree.
The front door slams and Quito takes off his coat. He glances around the room. After finding no place where he can rest his jacket, he throws it on the floor and sits across from me. “How long are you going to be like this?”
“Be like what?”
“Like this.” He says, moving his hand up and down in front of me.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you sitting here, alone in this house day after day. The only time you leave is to go to work and then you come back here to do this. You haven’t been to Mommy’s house for dinner in weeks, you still haven’t put one piece of furniture in here since you moved in, and you never answer my calls anymore. Look, I know you’re hurting man, but you have to get over it already. Move on.”
“Move on?! How the fuck can I move on when I lost the only woman I’ve ever loved?” I rise to my feet and begin pacing, raking my fingers through my messy, unbrushed hair. “I can’t move on. I don’t know how to go on without her and those boys. The only time I felt like I was a part of something special was when I was with them. Tell me how I’m supposed to just forget them. Tell me!”
He stands and places his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t have all the answers man, I…”
“No, you don’t have any answers at all. Not the ones I need to fill this empty hole in my heart. Just...just get out of here and leave me alone. Let me wallow in my own misery.”
“I will not stand here and watch you wither away. If you want her, find a way to get her back. You need to get a grip and figure what you’re going to do because I guarantee what you’ve been doing is over as of right now.”
“It’s too late to get her back. She’s already made up her mind.”
“Fine, if you’re giving up then move the fuck on already. This is the last time we’re going to be talking about her. Now wake the fuck up, go take a shower, and let’s go shopping for some furniture. I refuse to sit on this hard ass floor another day when I come over.”
After dragging me downtown through the snow-covered streets to buy furniture, Quito follows me back into the house, carrying numerous bags of groceries into the kitchen. The furniture won’t be delivered until next week because of the upcoming holiday. My shoulders slump. Christmas will be here in less than a week and I’ll be spending it alone instead of having my family with me. I’m not going to my Mom’s or to Quito’s mother’s house this year. I don’t want to have to sit around and look at all the happy faces at the dinner table while I suffer in silence.
“Hey! ¿oíste lo que dije?”
I shake the fog out of my grief-stricken brain. “No, I didn’t. What did you say?”
“Ay, dios mio.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Dame fuerza, por favor.”
“Why are you asking Him for strength? I’m the one who’s hurting right now.”
“You’re hurting because you choose to.” He opens a few cabinets until he finds a pan and places it on the stove. “Choose to do something else instead of moping around here all day. Do something useful and start cutting up the meat for the sandwiches.”
I place the roast pork we bought at a local Cuban restaurant onto the cutting board. “I’m telling your mother you bought this instead of making it yourself.”
“Go ahead, tell her and voy a un cocotaso en la cabeza.”
Hearing Quito use his mother’s Spanish slang, threatening to hit me on the head, has me laughing for the first time in weeks. “Estoy llamando mami.”
“Go ahead, call her.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Do you really want me to call her and tell her you threatened to hit me?”
“She won’t believe a word you say.”
I reach into my pocket, pulling out my cell. “How sure are you about that? You know I’m her favorite.”
“Give me that.” He says, snatching the phone out of my hand and slips it into his back pocket.
I chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”
He shoves a plate full of food in my chest. “Go sit down.”
Taking the dish from him, I turn toward the living to sit on the floor.
“Where are you going?”
“To sit down and eat.”
“What’s wrong with the table?”
“Nothing.” I take a seat all the way at the far end of the table; away from the spot that holds one of the best memories in my entire life. The first time I was buried inside her, so deep, so raw...My eyes dart over to Quito, who is currently looking at me like I have two heads. “What?”
He sets his plate right next to the damage Madison scratched into the wood surface. “Do I have a contagious disease? Why are you sitting way down there?”
“What does it matter where I sit?”
He picks up his sandwich and takes a big bite. “Fine, sit wherever the fuck you want.” Sliding his plate over, he rubs the score marks. “What happened here? It looks like some animal tore it up. This is a great table, we can probably buff out the scratches easy enough with…”
“No! Don’t fucking touch this table.”
“Okay! Shit. I was just trying to help you out. You really need to get out of this damn house. You’re going insane.”