Ryle rolls his neck. “What are we, some kind of team now?”
I hate that he’s trying to make any of this sound beyond the realm of possibility. “A team is the only thing people should be when kids are involved.”
That hits him. I can see it in the way he flinches, and then subtly swallows. He turns around and faces away from me, taking a few steps while he contemplates everything I’ve said. When he turns back around and looks at me, there’s a little less vitriol there.
“When things don’t work out between the two of you and Lily needs somewhere to run, I’m not picking up the pieces this time.” With that, Ryle walks away. He doesn’t go through the restaurant this time. He heads down the alley, toward the street.
I can do nothing but stare at him with pity as he walks away. He truly doesn’t know Lily at all.
At all.
Lily doesn’t run to people. She didn’t run after me when I left Maine. She didn’t run to me when she left Ryle. She focused on being a mother. Yet that’s what he expects her to do if things don’t work out between us? Run to him like he’s her home base?
Lily’s home base is Emerson, and if he still can’t see that, he’s clueless.
If Lily had stayed with him, he would have spent the rest of their lives inventing issues in order to justify his excessive anger. Because I was never an issue in their marriage, and I never would have been.
I thought I pitied him before, but he’s fighting for a woman he barely even knows, which means he’s just fighting for the sake of fighting. He’s got a very similar personality to my mother, and sometimes there’s no fixing that. You just have to learn to live your life around it.
Maybe that’s what Lily and I are going to have to do. Learn to live our lives the best we can while occasionally having to deal with the ridiculous wrath of Ryle.
That’s fine. I’d go through this shit every day if it means I’m the one who gets to fall asleep next to her every night.
I walk up the steps and return to the hustle of the kitchen, and I get right back to work like he was never even here. I don’t know if my response tonight made this situation better, but I definitely don’t think I made it worse.
Darin hands me a wet rag. “You’re bleeding.” He points to the left side of my mouth, so I hold the rag there. “Was that her ex?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything okay now?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He might get mad and come back. Hell, this could go on for years.” I look at Darin and smile. “But she’s worth it.”
* * *
Three hours later, I’m knocking softly on Lily’s apartment door. I texted her to let her know I was coming. I thought she might need another drive-by hug.
When she opens her door, it’s clear that’s exactly what she needs. And what I need. As soon as we’re inside her living room, she slips her arms around my waist and I fold myself around her. We remain embraced for a couple of minutes.
When she lifts her face, her eyebrows draw apart when she sees the small cut on my lip. “He’s such an immature asshole. Did you put ice on it?”
“I’ll be fine. It didn’t even swell.”
Lily lifts up onto her toes and kisses my cut. “Tell me what happened.”
We sit on the couch and I try to recall everything that was said, but I’m sure I leave a few things out. When I’m finished speaking, she’s leaning against the back of the couch with a leg draped over mine, concentrating. She’s threading her fingers in and out of my hair.
She’s quiet for a long time. Then she just looks at me with a sweetness that melts over me. “I’m convinced you’re the only man on the planet who could get punched and then offer the aggressor advice.” Before I can respond, she’s sliding onto my lap, bringing her face close to mine. “Don’t worry, I find it so much more appealing than if you would have fought him back.”
I slide my hands up her back, surprised she’s in such a good mood. I don’t know why I thought this conversation would be a weight on her. But I guess this is the best possible outcome. Ryle knows we’re a thing, I had a chance to say my piece, and we all came out of it relatively unharmed.
“I can’t stay long, but I can probably stretch this hug out for another fifteen minutes before Josh notices I’m late.”
She raises an eyebrow. “When you say ‘hug,’ do you mean…”
“I mean get naked—we’re down to fourteen minutes.” I push her onto her back and kiss her, and we don’t stop for fourteen minutes. Then seventeen. Then twenty.