Mira
It was Sunday, and I hadn’t seen or heard from Ryan since I walked off and went to the spare bedroom a few days before. I wanted to see him, but at the same time I had no idea what I would even say to him. Evelyn had called me and explained that he hadn’t broken the rules, and that he hadn’t asked for a divorce, he just needed some time away. I still was worried that he was going to decide to leave, to take the money and get the hell out of Dodge. I had to hope that he wouldn’t, and while I could do the same thing, I was hellbent on not going that route.
Not only would me leaving without talking to him first hurt him, it would also kill any chance — even if it was slim — of him donating a kidney to my mother. Her life was the most important thing to me at that point. I didn’t care about the money if she wasn’t there to share it with. That kidney would save her life, and I had been living in limbo waiting to find out what was going on. They had postponed the surgery a week, but that was due to a complication in the surgeon’s schedule. When I talked to him he told me everything was still a go, nothing had changed at that point. As much as I wanted to believe that was true, I still was very uneasy with Ryan gone, and not even communicating with me or telling me what was going on.
My feelings and emotions had even been put on the back burner because I was just too stressed out over the whole situation to think about them. I wanted to, I knew it was important and even my mom had asked me about them, but my heart fell into my stomach every time I even started to think about him leaving. I didn’t want to spend my time crying my eyes out. And really, what did I know about Ryan. Everything that either of us felt was completely based around what we had been through in that house. Sure, my mother’s condition was thrown in there, but I couldn’t decide to love or not love someone just because they offered to help my mother. I really didn’t know what he was like outside of that imaginary world we’d been living in.
I took a deep breath and grabbed my bag, heading down to the kitchen to grab a piece of fruit before I left. As I stood in the kitchen I heard the front door open and close, then Ryan appeared around the corner. I was more than a little surprised to see him and I wanted to immediately launch into a conversation because we had the chance to talk without any cameras or people interrupting us. However, before I could get my mouth open, Miles walked around the corner behind him, giving me a condescending smirk.
I sighed and looked down at the counter, shaking my head. Of all the things he could do, bringing his best friend — a complete asshole — here when we had so much going on was the worst. It was like Ryan was purposefully trying to hurt my feelings, like nothing that had happened over the last three months had meant a damn thing to him. I was angry, very angry, but as I stood there staring down into my bag, I realized that anger wasn’t going to do me any good. I needed to just let it go and realize that he was going to do his own thing no matter how it made me feel.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and walked over to the fruit bowl trying to decide what I wanted to take with me. In reality, my head was fogged, and my anxiety was through the roof. I didn’t even know if I should ask about my mother at that point. I just wanted to run away, but I couldn’t, that was what he had done, and it really did no good at all.
“Sorry about your mom,” Miles said, picking up an apple and taking a bite of it.
I felt like he was baiting me, like this had bad news written all over it. Part of me wanted to fall for the bait, to be a snotty bitch, to tell him to go fuck himself, but I knew that wouldn’t do me any good. It would only push Ryan even further away. I took a banana and an apple from the bowl and turned, looking up at him, trying to see if he was sincere or not.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit my best friend, I heard he was going through some things, and, well, I wanted to be there as moral support for him,” he smiled. “Sorry it obviously bothers you, but unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, you can’t control him.”
“Whatever,” I laughed sarcastically. “Trust me, I am not trying to do anything of the sort. Besides, I was just curious, there is no reason for you get nasty with me.”
“Oh sweetie, that isn’t nasty. I thought you knew what nasty was, you acted that way last time I was here,” he said, with that stupid smirk.
I ignored him, trying not to lose my patience with him. I was already on the edge worried about my mother in the hospital, Ryan not speaking to me, and me wondering whether my mother was going to get the life-saving surgery she needed. Adding that idiot to the mix only made it easier for me to loosen the restraints and let everything bottled up inside me go. I turned away from him and walked back to the counter, gathering my cell phone, wallet and keys, then throwing it all in the bag. I needed to get out of there, to get away from Miles before I punched in his stupid face.
I was really hoping that Ryan would speak up and say anything. I turned to him and stared him straight in the eyes and waited for a moment, giving him the opportunity to talk to me. When he didn’t say a word, and just looked sheepishly down at the floor, I rolled my eyes and walked to the door. I didn’t have time to play foolish childish games with either one of these assholes. I had to get to the hospital and check on my mother, because there were a lot more important things going on in the world than whatever these two were doing in the kitchen. God, it seemed like when Miles was around, Ryan turned into a fucking robot. It was more than frustrating.
I headed out to the car, my hands shaking in anger. I pulled out the keys and unlocked the door, getting in and pulling down the driveway. I clenched tightly to the steering wheel as I drove and made the right turn onto the street. The minute I was out of sight of the house, I broke down in tears. They just came, and I had no control over them whatsoever. At first, they were tears of anger and frustration, the kind that made you want to scream and break something, but as that emotion passed, I could feel the twinge of heartache in my chest. It was kind of familiar, but stronger than I had ever experienced before.
Crying, I hated it. In fact, I’d made it a point throughout my whole life to keep the tears at bay. To me they didn’t solve anything, they only made things worse. When I was a kid I could remember the feeling of not having a dad for the father-daughter dance and it had brought me to tears. When I was done crying, I realized it didn’t change anything, I still didn’t have a dad, and the dance was over at that point. After that, I avoided crying at all costs.
This day though, I’d had enough. By then my emotions had built up so high that I could no longer even deal with the thoughts in my head. I was already on the brink when Miles walked in. His very presence was enough to have me teetering, and Ryan’s failure to speak put me over the edge. All that emotion had to come out somehow, and today that’s what was happening along the side of the road in Los Angeles. Epic meltdown.
I’d thought that I was starting to really like Ryan, maybe even love him. We had connected on a level I’d never become remotely close to with anyone before. I had opened up about my childhood, my family, my mom, my dad and everything else you would normally keep personal. We had shared a bed for the better part of three months, and we had done almost everything together. I trusted him, or at least I thought I did. Then it was like a switch and he started to act like a complete dick to me. Between leaving with no explanation, and not standing up for me or even asking how my mom was, now I felt like I didn’t know him at all.
Meltdown completed, I wiped the tears from my face and headed back to the hospital, not wanting to just sit there along the road like a pathetic idiot. When I got to my mom’s room she could immediately see that something was wrong. I walked to her bed and sighed, taking her hand.
“I saw Ryan this morning,” I said.
“You did?” she asked. “How is he?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Before I could ask, that asshole Miles came romping into the kitchen saying nasty things to me. I wanted to bite his head off his shoulders, but I didn’t, I just ignored him.”
“What about Ryan?”
“Yeah right,” I chuckled. “He did just what he did last time Miles was around. He acted like I was just some chick. He didn’t say a word to me. He didn’t stick up for me, he didn’t tell Miles to shut it. He didn’t even ask how everything was going with you. He just fucking stood there like Miles had removed his damn brain. I hate Miles, but I hate Ryan even more for allowing someone to control him like that, I don’t care how good of friends they think they are.”
“I know,” my mom sighed. “And I’m sorry he was an asshole to you. That is the last thing that you need right now.”
“I just don’t know what to do,” I said, sitting down in the chair by the bed. “I mean, we need to talk, but with Miles here it will be impossible to get him alone. And I don’t even know what I would say to him to begin with. He left to get away, and he came back with the asshole. It’s like he deliberately wants to hurt me.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” my mom said. “Maybe the network sent him.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “Or maybe Ryan wanted back up for when he walked out on me.”
“You need to stop this,” my mother said, with authority.
“What?”
“Acting like you are a victim,” she said. “You need to take life by the horns and stop letting it pass you by. Before one day you open your eyes and you are almost sixty, and lying in a hospital bed, waiting for someone to save your life. It makes me angry.”
“Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” she replied, calming her tone. “Just stop what-iffing and second guessing. Just get Ryan alone and try to get him to talk to you. Even if you have to pull him into the bathroom and lock Miles out. Or better yet, lock the asshole in the pantry and corner Ryan. If you want him, go get him. If you don’t try to resolve it, if you allow yourself to be pitiful and scared and waiting for someone else to do something, you’re still sending a message and you may just lose out altogether. Stand up and live life on your terms. Maybe you’ll get hurt. But if you sit back and do nothing, and you both decide what the other is thinking and feeling without actually having the hard conversations, you are bound to lose. You’ll lose without even being in the game.”
“I know,” I sighed. “You’re right. Somehow I have to find that courage.”