Chapter Twenty-Eight
After Ryle left me his keys this afternoon; I debated going back to our
new apartment. I even had a cab pull up to the building, but I
couldn’t force myself out of the car. I knew if I went back there today,
I’d probably see Allysa at some point. I’m not ready to explain the
stitches on my forehead to her. I’m not ready to see the kitchen where
Ryle’s harsh words cut through me. I’m not ready to walk into the
bedroom where I was completely destroyed.
So instead of returning to my own home, I took the cab back to
Atlas’s house. It feels like my only safe zone right now. I don’t have to
confront things when I’m hiding out here.
Atlas has already texted me twice today checking on me, so when I
get a text a few minutes before seven o’clock in the evening, I assume
it’s from him. It’s not; it’s from Allysa.
Allysa: You home from work yet? Come up and visit us, I’m already bored.
My heart sinks when I read her text. She has no idea what
happened between me and Ryle. I wonder if Ryle even told her he left
for England today. My thumb types and erases and types some more
as I try to come up with a good excuse as to why I’m not there.
Me: I can’t. I’m in the emergency room. Hit my head on that shelf in the
storage room at work. Getting stitches.
I hate that I lied to her, but it’ll save me from having to explain the
cut and also why I’m not home right now.
Allysa: Oh no! Are you alone? Marshall can come sit with you since Ryle is
gone.
Okay, so she knows Ryle left for England. That’s good. And she
thinks we’re fine. This is good. That means I have at least three
months before I have to tell her the truth.
Look at me, sweeping shit under the rug just like my mother.
Me: No, I’m fine. I’ll be finished up by the time Marshall could even get here.
I’ll come by tomorrow after work. Give Rylee a kiss for me.