“Ready to go?” Ryder asks, interrupting my thoughts.

For the second time since our disaster of a dinner, Ian texted me. Five minutes ago. Asking when I was coming home. Apparently, he thinks this is a joke, that I’m not serious. It’s both infuriating and unbelievable. Moving my things out will hopefully give him a clue as to how serious I am about us being over.

“Yeah,” I say, reaching for my purse.

Let’s get this over with. I’m ready to move on. This is the first step.

The drive to the apartment is quiet aside from the directions I give to Ryder. He insisted on driving. I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered his truck. I didn’t peg him for a truck guy, but I have to admit, he looks sexy in the driver’s seat. His black suit is a complete contradiction of the mud stains that cover most of the back end and tailgate.

As we pull into the parking lot, the first thing I notice is Ian’s car parked in his assigned spot. Why is he here? I didn’t plan for this. I’m not prepared to face him.

“We have company,” I say to Ryder, pointing to Ian’s red convertible. He bought it after getting his first paycheck. He was so proud. Now I can’t help but think about how stupid he looks driving it.

“I thought you said he wouldn’t be here.”

“I didn’t think he would. It’s the middle of the day. He never misses work. ‘It’s not good business’ according to him,” I say. I’m sure my use of air quote causes me to look immature, but I don’t care. Ian is bringing out the worst in me, and I’ll be happy once I’m finally done dealing with him.

“Do you want me to wait out here? Because I’d rather not.”

Ian already thinks Ryder and I are sleeping together. He thinks I left because of Ryder. If I bring him inside, things might get ugly. If I don’t, Ryder will sit out here and worry about me. I don’t want to do that to him either. Plus, I have no idea how long this is going to take me now that Ian is home.

“How about you wait out in the hall and I leave the door cracked,” I suggest. Ryder gives me a questioning look, so I buck up and tell him the shortened version of why we broke up. He doesn’t need all the details, only the ones that pertain to him right now.

“He thinks you left him for me?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

“Apparently he was told by someone that we’re sleeping together.”

Laughing, Ryder immediately pulls himself together and apologizes.

“I’m not laughing because I think it’s funny. I’m laughing because the damn rumors that go around Dixon are so farfetched I can’t believe people believe them. And they reached his office? That’s even more impressive. I guarantee I know who’s behind them. Do you want me to say something?”

“To who? Ian?”

“No. The girls at work.”

“Um, no. I can take care of them,” I retort with a voice of authority.

“Okay, so let’s get this over with. If he already thinks we’re together then it won’t matter if I’m here with you or not. We’ll grab your stuff and get out as quick as possible. Just ignore him and start grabbing your things, okay?”

This is a bad idea. I never should have agreed to this. He has a point, though. If Ian already thinks I’ve moved on to another man, this could be the final blow. He surely won’t ask me when I’m coming home again. This might actually drill it into his brain that we’re done. At least, I hope that’s the only blow that’s delivered in the next twenty minutes.

Unlocking the door, I’m surprised to find the apartment eerily silent. Just as I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief, I hear Ian cough. Then sneeze. Then cough again. He’s here and he’s sick. Just great. He’s going to be whiney and annoying the entire time we’re here.

“Hello!” he calls out from the back of the apartment. He must be in bed still. “Emerson, is that you?”

“Yeah. I just came to get a few things.”

“Can you bring me something to drink?” he asks.

Rolling my eyes, I motion for Ryder to follow me into the kitchen.

“I’m going to go in there alone. Make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be long.”

Reaching under the sink, I grab a handful of garbage bags for my clothes while Ryder takes a seat at the counter. Taking three bottles of water from the fridge, I slide one to him and retreat to the bedroom.

“You’re here,” Ian announces as I hand him a bottle of water, placing an extra bottle on the bedside table. “What are the garbage bags for?”

“Clothes. I’m grabbing the rest of my things,” I say, turning to get started.

“Seriously? Today? I was hoping we could talk.”

“You had the opportunity to talk to me last week and you blew it. I’m done talking, Ian. We don’t want the same things. We don’t see things the same way. It’s time we end this before things get ugly and one of us say things we don’t mean. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want, but I can’t do this anymore.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell him that I don’t love him anymore, knowing that it will be a huge blow that his ego needs, but I hold back. I’ll only say it if he forces me to.

“Did you bring your boyfriend with you for protection, or were you hoping to have one last roll in our bed?”

“Why? Why are you being such as ass?” I ask, forcefully shoving clothes in the bag until the black plastic begins to stretch.

“Why are you throwing us away like we mean nothing anymore?”

“Me!” I yell, dropping the bag and turning to face him. “I’m not the one who ruined us, Ian. That would be you. You’re the one that tried to control me. You’re the one who turned into an asshole the moment I did something you didn’t like. If anyone ruined us, I was you. Blame me all you want, but we both know the truth.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Just remember I won’t be here when you realize what you’ve lost,” he calls after me as I make my way into the bathroom.

Gross! He threw up in the toilet and forgot to flush. I can’t believe he can’t take care of himself at his age.

Gathering my things, I stop when I hear the floorboards creak. Ducking back into the bedroom, Ian isn’t where I left him. The sheets have been tossed back. His slippers aren’t next to the bed and his robe isn’t hanging from the hook next to the closet door.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

Ian’s words echo down the hall causing me to stop dead in my tracks, halfway to the kitchen. This day can’t get any worse.

“I’m just here to help Emerson,” I hear Ryder say.

“Well, she doesn’t live here anymore, I do. You can get the fuck out of my house now.” Ian’s words are dripping with hatred.

“As soon as she has her things, we’ll leave. Together. Not a moment sooner.”

“I don’t think you heard me. Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Ian screams, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

I’ve only heard him this angry once before. He was yelling at his brother on the phone. I still to this day have no idea what the fight was about, but to my knowledge, they haven’t spoken since.

“No wonder she left you for me. Who would want to kiss a man with that kind of mouth?”

Damn it, Ryder. Why are you making it worse? Why is he pushing him? I can hear the laughter in his voice as he attempts to get under Ian’s skin. Little does he know, his mere presence is already getting to Ian.

“Let me tell you something, Dixon. She enjoyed kissing these lips and everything else I used to do with them. Can she say the same about you?”

And now it’s a pissing match. I need to pick up the pace so we can get out of here. Rushing back to the bedroom, I shove as much as I can in the garbage bags and start tossing them in the hallway. The last thing I grab are the dried roses hanging from my closet door. I take them into the bathroom, crumble them into tiny pieces, and flush them down the toilet along with Ian’s puke.

As I stand there watching the broken petals swirl around, I think back to all the good times Ian and I shared. They’re hard to remember now, my thoughts clouded with anger and hatred. There was a time when we were happy together. A time when we loved each other unconditionally. Those are the moments I’ll choose to remember.

Not this moment.

Not Ian and Ryder standing nose to nose in the kitchen, Ryder glaring down at Ian. Both of them are willing the other to swing first. Shaking my head, I announce my departure and Ryder immediately steps away, grabbing the garbage bags I’ve dragged to the front door.

I make the mistake of looking back as I close the door. Ian is standing in the middle of the living room, staring at me. I expect to see regret or sorrow in his eyes. Sadness. Maybe even fear. All I see staring back at me is pure, unadulterated hatred.

His jaw is set. His eyes are narrowed.

Looking over my shoulder, I assume Ryder is standing behind me, but that’s not the case. His anger is directed toward me. This is my fault in his mind. I’m to blame.

That’s fine. As long as this is over, I don’t really care who he points the finger at. He’s no longer a part of my life. Someone else can help him cope and maybe they can help him see more clearly the error of his ways. At least I hope so for his sake.

“Goodbye, Ian,” I finally say, closing the door.

Ryder’s waiting for me by his truck. He takes the garbage bags from my hands and tosses them in the back, wraps his arm around my shoulder, and gives me a light squeeze before helping me in the truck.

Staring out my window, I watch as the apartment building becomes smaller in the side mirror. My former home. The place I was most comfortable until I no longer felt safe. It was a new beginning for me and Ian. Living together. Moving our relationship to the next level. There was talk of marriage and kids at one point.

When I moved in with him, I had no idea it would also be our demise.

A pain in my chest reminds me how real this situation is.

Am I going to miss Ian? Of course. In many ways, he will always be an important part of my life. Not my present or my future, but my past.

Do I think I’m doing the right thing, leaving him?

I do. If I had stayed, his control would have tightened and I would have resented him in the end. Because the fact is, at some point in time, it would have eventually ended. The signs were there, I just didn’t want to see them at first.

My hope, at the end of the day, is that we each find someone who complements us and understands our needs. Ian needs someone who is content with being a housewife, letting him provide for her and take care of her. I need someone who will allow me to stand on my own two feet and make mistakes, but help me up when I fall. I couldn’t be the person he needed me to be and he wasn't the man I wanted him to be.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Emerson?” Ryder asks, drawing my attention back to reality.

“Just letting it all sink it, I guess.”

“Are you changing your mind?” There’s an element of apprehension in his voice that I don’t expect to hear.

“No, it just doesn’t feel final yet. I thought today, officially moving out, would bring a sense of closure and it hasn’t. Not yet anyway.”

“Well, if the way he was being protective of you is any indication, I don’t think this is over for him either. It’s not closure he needs, though. He needs to accept what’s happened and move on somehow.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just something he said,” he replies, hesitant to answer.

“Care to share what he said, exactly?”

“It’s just, he made it very clear that he didn’t like the fact that I was there, so I may have embellished out relationship a little to get him going. Not gonna lie, I was hoping he would hit me so I could knock him on his ass.”

“Embellished a little? I’m going to need you to be more specific,” I say, turning in my seat to face him better. “And by more specific I mean I want you to tell me word for word so there’s no chance I misinterpret what you told him.”

Ryder glances in my direction, a sly grin on his face. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he’s about to tell me, and Ian probably didn’t either.