"I get that he's sad, but I was the puppy waiting at home for him, begging for scraps of his attention like a toy discarded in the corner. And now that toy is gone, and he can't just pick it up when he has time for it, I bet in a week he won't even think twice about me. He will get a new toy," I tell her as I turn so she won't see the devastation in my eyes at the thought of him with somebody else. I pull some jeans and a dark-coloured henley from my bag. Isn't that how it works with these guys?
That's how it worked with Josh. He was parading a twink on his social media accounts three days after I finally packed up my shit and left. He didn't give a fuck about me, and neither does Drew. That much is obvious.
"Thank you for letting me stay, Nyx, and for talking to Gav. I appreciate it. I guess I better go apartment hunting today." I nod to myself like I'm the one who needs convincing of my next actions. The heavy weight of my snap decision is currently sitting on my chest, but the thought of going back and continuing to live like that keeps my resolve. "Yup, apartment hunting, I can do that," I reiterate.
When I turn back around to face her, I can see the sadness on her face.
"Maybe you're not ready to hear this, but I'll say it either way. I don't know what's in your head right now, Ry, but what I saw in that man's eyes a few minutes ago was devastation and sadness." I'm about to say something, but she continues.
"Just as I said to him, give yourself some time. Think it through. Give him a chance to explain when you're ready to hear it. That man loves you. Maybe he failed at showing it to you these past few months, but he isn't happy about how it went down. That much is obvious."
The massive lump in my throat prevents me from saying anything else, and thankfully, she walks backward out of the room, leaving me with the elephant currently perched on my chest.
DREW
It’s been twenty-four hours. Nine thousand four hundred and forty minutes. Eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds.Exactly at this moment yesterday, he left.
How could I mess this up so epically? I knew he was getting tired of my absence, and I knew how important that art show was to him, but I could see the finish line so close, and I couldn't take my eyes off of it to get my head out of my ass and be what he needed me to be and be where he needed me.
I wanted to be at that show. I wanted to stand by his side when all these people realized how talented he was. Why did I think it was okay to skip it for fucking paperwork? But when Ben dumped the final files on my desk, saying they needed to be summarized immediately, but he had a hot date and couldn't help me, clearly not giving a fuck about my plans, I couldn't ignore it. Being right on the cusp of my promotion, ignoring the documents, and flipping off the boss's son wasn't going to look good for me, but did I have to fall asleep in my seat after closing my eyes for just a second?
Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? It's no wonder he's gone. The love of my life is gone. Fuck. How is this my life? When I thought I had everything I ever wanted. It all went to hell.
I tried to call him, like a million times. At first, it just rang, then it went straight to voicemail, then the call wouldn't connect at all. I tried to go see him, but he wouldn't come to the door. Nyx said he was in the shower, but for all I know, he was listening from the other side of the door at my pathetic attempts to get Nyx to talk to him for me, for her to make him see how wrong this all is. He doesn't belong here, in her apartment. He belongs at home with me. 'Give him some time,' she said… How long is 'some time'?
Deciding to torment myself for what feels like the hundredth time today, I sit in the same recliner he had that morning and scroll back through our text thread. I can see now, in black and white, all the times he had to ask me if I was coming home. I understand why he's so mad now, but why won't he give me the chance to talk to him? To explain that I get it, I'll never be so fucking stupid again. The last few messages on the thread are sitting unread and unanswered.
Me:Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. Please let me explain myself. Talk to me. We are stronger than this.
Me:Tell me what I can do to make this better.
Me:Ryan please pick up.
Angry, I toss the device across the room. I don’t hear it shatter, so maybe it fell on the soft rug Ryan bought to make the place look more homey. He was right, the place was… cold before he moved in. White bare walls and basic furniture. He made it into what it is now. He made it so it would feel like home. Our home.
Words of the song he sang that first night I saw him playing at JACKS ring in my ears, and I guess our forever just went down in flames. I would laugh at how cheesy that sounded if my heart wasn't currently in the garbage disposal being ripped apart and thrown to waste.
I swirl the glass of whiskey in my hand, watching as the amber liquid barely manages to stay inside the rim, it kind of feels like some kind of visual analogy of how I'm barely managing to cling on to the shreds of my life right now.
My phone chimes from across the room, and I jump up so fast I almost break my ankle trying to get to it and not douse the rug in whiskey. I’m hoping it’s Ryan finally calling me back. Looking at the screen, I feel disappointment drowning me.
“Hi Ben,” I huff in greeting.
“Whoa, man, why do you sound like somebody kicked your puppy? Shouldn’t you be on cloud nine right now, ordering office supplies for that new fancy office you just got?”
"Ben," my voice cracks, and my eyes become blurry and moist. What the fuck is this? Am I about to cry or something? "I'm kind of having a bad day. Do you need something?"
"What do you mean? What happened?" Sighing, I try to form words to explain what the fuck happened yesterday. I haven't spoken to anybody about it except for the short conversation with Nyx this morning.
“Remember the art show I was telling you about, Ryan’s art show? Well, I ended up missing it and staying late that night to submit those files you brought to me, and I fucking fell asleep at my desk again.”
"Yeah, I went to the show. It was awesome. I even bought one of his sketches. They're incredible. Why didn't you just sort the files in the morning?" He asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world, except he was the one who told me they needed to be done that night. I manage to bite back my growl.
What does he mean, he went there? He was at the show?
"Well, instead of being at the gallery that evening, I was completing the papers to end the case, and when I got home yesterday after the meeting with your dad and Eric, Ryan told me that it was too late. That he's tired of everything, and then he left, just fucking left me, man." I don't know why I'm telling him all this. It's not like we're close.
In fact, I'm pretty sure the guy hates me, and what does he mean he went? Did he bring his date to Ryan's show? Why am I spilling my guts to this guy? I let the line fall silent as I wipe my soaked cheeks because fuck my life, tears decided to breach my eyes and are streaming freely down my face.
