There’s a three-second pause where I think this could go one of
two ways.
He’s going to leave me.
Or he’s going to hurt me.
He runs a hand through his hair and walks straight for the door.
He leaves.
“Ryle!” I yell.
Why did I never throw that number away?!
I open the door and run after him. He’s taking the stairs two at a
time, and I finally reach him when he’s at the landing of the second
floor. I shove myself in front of him and grab his shirt in my fists.
“Ryle, please. Let me explain.”
He grabs my wrists and pushes me away from him.
- • •
“Be still.”
I feel his hands on me. Gentle. Steady.
Tears are flowing and for some reason, they sting.
“Lily, be still. Please.”
His voice is soothing. My head hurts. “Ryle?” I try to open my eyes,
but the light is too bright. I can feel a sting at the corner of my eye
and I wince. I try to sit up, but I feel his hand press down on my
shoulder.
“You have to be still until I’m finished, Lily.”
I open my eyes again and look up at the ceiling. It’s our bedroom
ceiling. “Finished with what?” My mouth hurts when I speak, so I
bring my hand up and cover it.
“You fell down the stairs,” he says. “You’re hurt.”
My eyes meet his. There’s concern in them, but also hurt. Anger.
He’s feeling everything right now, and the only thing I feel is confused.
I close my eyes again and try to remember why he’s angry. Why he’s
hurt.
My phone.
Atlas’s number.
The stairwell.
I grabbed his shirt.