15-05-2021-052358It-Ends-with-Us

He nods. The bleeding has stopped. I’m sure if he needed stitches,
he’d get some, but I think it’ll be fine. I pull the ACE bandage out of
the first aid kit and begin wrapping his hand.
“Lily,” he whispers. I look up at him. His head is resting against the
headboard, and it looks like he wants to cry. “I feel terrible,” he says.
“If I could take it back.. .”
“I know,” I say, cutting him off. “I know, Ryle. It was terrible. You
pushed me. You made me question everything I thought I knew about
you. But I know you feel bad about it. We can’t take it back. I don’t
want to bring it up again.” I secure the bandage around his hand and
then look him in the eye. “But Ryle? If anything like that ever
happens again... I’ll know that this time wasn’t just an accident. And
I’ll leave you without a second thought.”
He stares at me for a long time, his eyebrows drawn apart in regret.
He leans forward and presses his lips against mine. “It won’t happen
again, Lily. I swear. I’m not like him. I know that’s what you’re
thinking, but I swear to you.. .”
I shake my head, wanting him to stop. I can’t take the pain in his
voice. “I know you’re nothing like my father,” I say. “Just... please
don’t ever make me doubt you again. Please.”
He brushes hair from my forehead. “You’re the most important
part of my life, Lily. I want to be what brings you happiness. Not what
causes you to hurt.” He kisses me and then stands up and leans over
me, pressing the ice to my face. “Hold this here for about ten more
minutes. It’ll prevent it from swelling.”
I replace his hand with mine. “Where are you going?”
He kisses me on the forehead and says, “To clean up my mess.”
He spends the next twenty minutes cleaning the kitchen. I can
hear glass being tossed into the trash can, wine being poured out in
the sink. I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower to get his
blood off of me and then I change the sheets on my bed. When he
finally has the kitchen cleaned up, he comes to the bedroom with a
glass. He hands it to me. “It’s soda,” he says. “The caffeine will help.”
I take a drink of it and feel it fizz down my throat. It’s actually the
perfect thing. I take another drink and set it on my nightstand.
“What’s it help with? The hangover?”