You disappoint me Lily.
Iâm staring at my phone in shock.
Is this a joke?
You treat me like a monster im her goddamn father
Itâs five in the morning. I woke up to use the bathroom, and naturally, I glanced at my phone before attempting to get the last hour of sleep before my alarm goes off.
All the texts are from Ryle. I havenât heard from him since he showed up at my house on Sunday. Itâs been four days, and he never even bothered to reach out and apologize for losing his temper on me. He was silent for four days and then this?
I was happier before I met you.
I read through the barrage of text messages, knowing full well he was drunk when he sent them last night. The first one was sent at midnight, and the last one, from two in the morning, reads, have fun fucking the homeless guy.
I drop my phone onto my bed, my hands trembling. I canât believe he sent these. I was hoping the four days of silence was a stretch of remorse on his part, but itâs obvious heâs been stewing in his anger.
This is so much worse than I thought.
I try to go back to sleep, but I canât. I get up and make myself a cup of coffee, but my stomach is too upset to drink it. I spend the next half hour standing in my kitchen, staring at nothing, replaying those texts over and over in my mind.
When Emerson finally wakes up, Iâm relieved. I am more than welcoming to the distraction of our chaotic morning routine.
By the time I drop her off with my mother and make it to work, itâs eight oâclock sharp. Iâm the first one at the flower shop, so I distract myself with as much as I can until Serena and Lucy show up. Lucy can tell something is wrong with me, she even asks me if Iâm okay at one point, but I reassure her that Iâm fine.
I pretend I am fine, but Iâm watching the front door every chance I get, expecting Ryle to angrily burst through it. I wait for another mean text from him. I wait for the phone to ring.
Hours go by and thereâs nothing. Not even an apology.
I donât tell Atlas, I donât tell Allysa, I donât say anything to anyone throughout the day about what heâs done. Itâs embarrassing. Itâs insulting to Atlas; itâs insulting to me. I have no idea what to do about it, but I know that this isnât something Iâm willing to tolerate. I refuse to go the next seventeen years of my daughterâs life being abused in any way, even through text messages.
Serena has gone for the day, and itâs just Lucy and me when the inevitable finally happens. Itâs after five, and weâre just getting ready to close up shop so I can pick up Emerson from my motherâs when Ryle walks through the front door.
My anxiety shoots through me like an explosion of lava.
Lucy has never been Ryleâs biggest fan, so she groans under her breath when she sees him and says, âIâll be in the back if you need me.â
âLucy, wait,â I whisper. I look down at my phone like Iâm busy with something so Ryle canât see my lips moving. âStay.â I glance at her so she can see the concern in my eyes. She just nods and finds something to make herself look busy.
My heart is hammering against my chest when Ryle approaches. I donât even try to hide behind a fake expression when I look him in the eye.
He holds my stare for a few seconds and then side-eyes Lucy. He nudges his head toward my office. âCan we talk?â
âI was just leaving.â My words come out quick and firm. âI have to pick up our daughter.â
I can see Ryleâs left hand grip the edge of the counter. He squeezes it, and the muscles in his arm flex. âPlease. It wonât take long.â
I look at Lucy. âWait for me to lock up?â She gives me a reassuring nod, so I turn on my heels and walk to my office. I can hear him right behind me. I fold my arms over my chest and suck in a breath before I can face him.
Iâm so sick of his remorse. I want to wipe that stupid frown off his face, Iâm so angry.
âIâm sorry.â He runs a hand through his hair and winces, coming closer. âI had too much to drink at an event last night andâ¦â
I say nothing.
âI donât even remember sending those texts, Lily.â
I still say nothing. He begins to fidget, growing uncomfortable in my silent anger. He slides his hands into his pockets and stares at his feet. âDid you tell Allysa?â
I donât answer that question. If anything, it infuriates me even more. Heâs worried what his sister will think of him more than what kind of damage heâs doing to me? âNo, but I told a lawyer.â Iâm lying, but itâll be the truth as soon as he leaves this building. From this point forward, Iâm documenting everything he does to me. Atlas is right. Ryle looks perfect on paper, and if heâs going to continue with abusive tactics, I need to protect myself and Emerson.
Ryleâs eyes slowly journey to mine. âYou what?â
âI sent them to my lawyer.â
âWhy would you do that?â
âSeriously? You pinned me against a door on Sunday, and then you sent me threatening texts in the middle of the night. I have done nothing to deserve this, Ryle!â
He pulls his hands from his pockets and squeezes the back of his neck as he spins to face the other direction. He stretches his back while he sucks in a breath. He seems to be holding that breath in while he silently counts in an attempt to subdue the anger building in him.
We both know how those techniques have worked in the past.
When he turns around, the remorse is gone. âYou donât see the pattern, here? Are you really that blind?â
Oh, I definitely see a pattern, but I think weâre looking at different ones.
âWeâve been fine for a year, Lily. We didnât have a single issue until he showed back up. Now weâre fighting all the time, and youâre getting lawyers involved?â He looks like he wants to punch the air.
âStop blaming your behavior on other people, Ryle!â
âStop ignoring the common fucking denominator for all of our problems, Lily!â
Lucy appears in the doorway of my office. She looks from me to Ryle, and then back to me. âAre you okay?â
Ryle lets out an exasperated laugh. âSheâs fine,â he says, irritated. Ryle walks toward the door, and Lucy has to press herself against the doorframe to avoid being bumped into. âA fucking lawyer,â I hear him mutter. âLet me take one guess as to whose idea that was.â Ryle is walking toward the door like heâs on a mission. Lucy and I both exit my office, most likely for the same reason. To lock him out once he exits the shop.
When Ryle reaches the front door of the building, he spins around and stabs me with a sharp glare. âI am a neurosurgeon. You work with flowers, Lily. Remember that before your lawyer does anything stupid to threaten my career. I pay for that fucking apartment you live in.â His threat is punctuated by his hands slamming open the door.
Lucy is the one to lock it after he finally leaves because Iâm frozen from the impact of that last insult. She walks back to me and pulls me in for a sympathetic hug.
I realize in this moment that the hardest part about ending an abusive relationship is that you arenât necessarily putting an end to the bad moments. The bad moments still rear their ugly heads every now and then. When you end an abusive relationship, itâs the good moments you put an end to.
In our marriage, the few terrifying incidents were blanketed by so many good ones, but now that our marriage is over, the blanket has lifted and all Iâm left with are the worst pieces of him. Where our marriage was once full of heart and flesh that cushioned the skeleton, all thatâs left is the skeleton now. Sharp, bony edges that slice right through me.
âYou okay?â Lucy asks, smoothing her hands down my hair.
I nod. âYeah, but⦠did it seem like he left here with a purpose? Like he was going somewhere else?â
Lucyâs eyes scan the door again. âYeah, he peeled out of the parking lot pretty fast. Maybe you should warn Atlas.â
I immediately grab for my phone and call him.