33
I don’t know why I pushed him. I could tell he was stressed, a state I’d never seen him in before. Ryan was laid back, happy, intense when it came to intimacy, but stressed? Never. So why had I pushed him?
Because I wanted to know what the future held. Because the possibility of us ending when his job did always resided in the back of my mind. Because I loved him, loved him fiercely, and the idea of losing someone I loved that much scared me to death.
So I asked.
The timing couldn’t have been more wrong, but I asked. And he said what he said, breaking my heart, shattering it beyond repair. I thought I’d had my heart broken before by Benny and Khalil, but those were only little scratches. Ryan had actually split my heart in two, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever recover.
I sat on my bathroom floor, on the ice blue rug, hugging my knees with tears flooding my cheeks. I shouldn’t have ever started up with him, but if I hadn’t, I would’ve never known what it felt like to love him, and I wouldn’t trade having loved him for anything in the world. I was hurt, but I wanted him back.
But it was too late for that. It was over. He’d said so. So that made it law, because he was Ryan Boyé, and Ryan Boyé was a man who always got what he wanted, including me. I was his to throw away, and he’d thrown me away.
And it was my fault.
I should’ve just listened to him, offered some support, screwed him, anything other than starting a damn argument. And maybe I shouldn’t have told him to leave.
I shook my head as I lay on my side and hugged myself. Eventually, I cried myself to sleep on the bathroom floor.
*****
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a bumping sound awakened me. I was sure it was late, but I’d left my phone somewhere in my apartment and I didn’t have a watch on. I sat up, tried to get my bearings and blink away the pounding headache that made it hard to think.
The bumping sound returned, and I recognized it as knocking. Someone, most likely Ryan, was knocking on the bathroom door. Almost reflexively, I reached to unlock it, then remembered what was said, what he’d said, and drew my hand back.
“Angie!” he called through the door. “Angela?! Are you still in there?”
I just sat there with my eyes on the door, unable to answer him.
“Look, I know you don’t wanna talk to me or see me, but if you’re in there, would you say something? Are you okay?”
Tears filled my eyes again, though I could’ve sworn I’d cried them all out. I bit my bottom lip and turned my back to the door, wrapping my arms around my knees again.
“Angela, baby, say something. I don’t wanna kick this door down, but I will.”
“I’m fine, Ryan,” I said in an unreliable, shaky voice.
“Okay…good.”
There was silence, and for a moment, I thought he’d left, which made me feel relieved, and at the same time, made me want to curl up in a ball and waste away.
Then I heard, “Angela, I need to say something to you. I need you to listen to me, and then if you want me to go, I’ll go.”
I didn’t reply.
“All right. Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. What I said…look, I’m a fucked-up dude, I got all these issues, and I’m scared of commitment and shit. I honestly don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me. I know that, but…but I love you, Angela. I do, and I was just stressed and I don’t deal with stress or conflict well. I don’t know how to deal with it. So for most of my life, I’ve just avoided it. That’s why I didn’t do relationships before. But you…I’m different with you. I…”
His voice trailed off and I lifted my head, turned around, and stared at the door.
“Angela, I don’t want to lose you and I don’t wanna lose who I am with you. Look, baby, I know you’re scared about the future, and so am I, but I can promise you this, the end of my job here won’t be the end of us. I just need more time to figure out how to make that happen. I know you think this should be easy, but it’s hard for me.”
My face screwed all up as more tears came. I buried it between my knees and hiccupped air.
“Angie?”
I sniffled, and stuttered out, “You-you love me?”
“From the bottom of my damn soul, baby. Been driving around all night, trying to convince myself that I didn’t, because the thought of it scares the shit out of me. But I do. I love you, and I need you. And I’m sorry for hurting you.”
I fumbled with the lock on the doorknob, finally getting it to turn. When Ryan opened the door and looked down at me, his eyes red-rimmed, wearing a worried and exhausted expression on his face, I said, “You didn’t get any sleep?”
“How could I?” he asked, as he sat on the bathroom floor beside me, drawing me into his arms.
“But you have work.”
“I know. I’ll be all right.” He kissed my forehead. “Are you all right?”
I nodded against his chest. “I am now. I’m sorry for pushing you. You were already stressed and I just added to it.”
“But that doesn’t make what I said right.”
“Ryan, I knew you didn’t mean it when you said it. I could see it in your eyes, knew it in my heart, but it hurt to hear it. It hurt to think you could even say it whether you meant it or not. And then you left…and I started thinking you meant it.”
“Baby, you told me to leave.”
“I know, I just…you hurt me.”
He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “I’m sorry. I…that wasn’t me. Not the me I am with you. That was someone I used to be. Someone who never gave a damn about anyone but himself. You helped me become better. I don’t know what else to say but I’m sorry, baby. I am.”
“I believe you.”
“And I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“No one’s said that to me since my mother died.”
I looked up at him. “Baby…”
“It’s all right. It’s just good to finally hear it again. Especially coming from you.”
“I mean it. I do love you. I love you so much.”
“Me, too, baby.”
“And Ryan, I’m sorry for distracting you from your job.”
“Nah, that’s on me. Just gotta learn how to balance things.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Ryan stood and reached for my hand, “Come on. Let’s go to bed. Maybe I can get a couple of hours of sleep in.”
“Okay.”
I stared at my puffy eyes in the mirror and sighed, still unsure of how I felt. I was relieved he was back and that we had an understanding of sorts. He was sorry and he loved me and he was going to figure something out. I believed him. I truly did, but it was hard for me to push my misgivings away. Time was marching on, and I had no idea what “figuring things out” sounded like. I loved him, I didn’t want to lose him, and I was worried.
I sighed again as I grabbed my toothbrush and wet it. I had no idea why I was up so early other than the fact that my troubling thoughts refused to let me sleep and I was tired of lying in bed listening to Ryan breathe while I stared at the ceiling. His arm had felt good draped across my waist, but it had provided little comfort to me.
I squeezed a bit of toothpaste onto my toothbrush, but before I could shove it into my mouth, Ryan appeared in the mirror behind me, and although he had slept, he still looked tired. He wordlessly moved the thin strap of the tank top I’d slept in—as my late grandmother would put it— ready-roll and kissed my shoulder. Then he reached around and cupped both of my breasts through my shirt, squeezing the nipples until they were hard enough to cut glass while nibbling on my neck at the same time. I dropped the toothbrush in the sink and leaned against him, closing my eyes and releasing a moan. His hands left my breasts and I felt him gently push against my upper back, encouraging me to bend over the counter. I did, opening my eyes and meeting his in the mirror as he slid my panties to the side and entered me, releasing a moan that matched mine.
His eyes held mine as he glided in and out of my wetness, gripping my hips and licking his lips. “Baby,” he murmured, the first word he’d uttered since beginning this ambush.
“You’re gonna be late for work…” I whined as I grabbed for…something, finally wrapping my hand around the faucet, whimpering with each thrust he delivered.
“Angela…” he muttered. “Angela…”
I guess he didn’t care about being late for work.
I took my other hand and reached behind me, groping for him and finally landing on the bare skin of his muscular stomach. “Ryan…”
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to my back. “I love you,” he grunted. “I love you so much.”
“I…love…you…too…” I replied, as the pressure building inside of me made it hard to breathe, speak, think.
He placed his hands on my shoulders, closing his eyes as he thrusted deeper and deeper and deeper until…
“Ahhhhhhhh!!” we yelled in unison, our fused bodies seizing in concert.
Ryan rested his head on my back. “I love you, baby. I love you…”
“I love you, too, Ryan.”