Page 101 of The Downside of Love
I hop out of bed and go to him, gripping the bag and ripping it from his hands. I toss it to the side and step into his space, forcing him to look at me.
His eyes are bloodshot, almost as if he’s been crying—one of them black and blue—and there is a feeling of dread rolling off him, like what he’s about to do is life changing.And it’s going to hurt.
“Stryder, what happened?” I gingerly touch his eye and he flinches, going back to the dresser.
I follow him, giving him zero space.
“Stop it.” I pull his hands from the drawer. “Talk to me. You promised you would talk to me, that you wouldn’t do this again. Don’t shut me out. What’s going on?”
With both his hands, he pulls on the back of his neck and looks toward the ceiling. I hate seeing him in so much pain. I hate that the two men who should support him most in his life cause this sort of reaction within him.I wish he’d let me comfort him. Love him.
“Tell me what happened.”
“What do you think happened?” Stryder snaps at me, sending me backward in shock. I’ve heard him angry before, I’ve heard him upset, but I’ve never heard that tone of voice before, so bitter and heated.
“I don’t know, that’s why you have to tell me,” I shoot back.
“There is no use hashing it out.” He shakes his head and then looks at me through those long eyelashes of his. His eyes water, and his face pales.
My world stands still as I wait for his next move, for what he’s going to say. Dread fills me.
He exhales sharply. “I . . .” He swallows hard. “We’re done, Rory.”
Like a semitrailer coming at me in full speed, my breath is knocked from my lungs. “Wh-why?” I stutter, feeling the walls around me start to crumble.
Anguish laces his eyes, directing his sharp movements as he goes to the bathroom. “Because you deserve someone who can give you everything. That’s not me.”
“That’s not true, Stryder. You’re everything I need.”
He pops out of the bathroom holding a few things in his hand and stuffs them in the bag. “You and I both know that’s not true. You know I’ve been holding back, that I can’t truly hand over my heart because of the guilt that’s eating me alive.” He bows his head. “So much goddamned guilt.”
“We can get through that, Stryder. Together, we can work through it.” I step up to him but he takes a step back.
Lifting his eyes to me, his head still tilted slightly down, his eyebrows framing the agony in his gaze, he says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” I answer, my voice breathy and strained.
“Those letters you keep under our bed, the ones from Colby. How many times have you read them?”
My face blanches as my stomach bottoms out on me.He knows about the letters?How? Has he read them? Embarrassment consumes me; my hands begin to fidget in front of me, Colby’s poetic words flashing through my mind. Does he think I still feel the same as Colby feels for me?
“How many times, Rory?” Stryder repeats, sounding so horribly defeated.
Lifting my chin, knowing I speak the truth, I say, “Once.”
“Once?”
I nod.
“But why keep them?” He drags his hand through his hair. “Do you still love him, Rory?”
“I love you, Stryder.” I step closer and place my hands on his chest, but again, he steps away, shaking his head. He gathers his bag and starts toward the door. “Stryder.” I pull on his arm as tears fall. “Don’t leave, please. We need to talk about this.”
“There is nothing to talk about, Rory. I can’t be the man you need. I think we both realize that.”
“Why can’t you? I don’t understand.” I’m grasping at anything, begging him to stop his run for the door.
“I betrayed my best friend, Rory. The one guy who’s been there for me through thick and thin when my family wouldn’t even look at me.”
