Page 20 of Pulled Away

My feet dragging, I follow the sound of her laughter and Ryan’s chuckles. My jaw clenches because I’m so, so angry. They’re laughing and having a fantastic time while I’m hurting. Is my anger irrational? Maybe. Ryan doesn’t know I’ve had a bad day, but then, he would have if he bothered to have any contact with me during the day. So, yeah, there goes the comfort I was so desperately needing. I just know it won’t be happening tonight, which gets confirmed when I stop dead in my tracks, my body deflating.

“Just what any girl wants to come home to. Her boyfriend and his best friend, half-naked in a hot tub,” I mutter, taking them in.

Ryan’s lounged against the side of the hot tub, holding a beer, and Hadley—she’s in a two-piece from what I can see, her hair in a messy bun, a glass of wine in her hand.

A detached part of me can’t help but admire her breasts. They’re barely covered, and they’re…spectacular.

Seeing them together like that—relaxed, not a care in the world—bothers me. A fucking great deal. Why is he out there with her when he’s usually still working at this time? Didn’t he get my message?

In a split second, I go from wanting Ryan’s arms around me to wanting to be alone. It feels like there are miles of distance between us, and I don’t want to be in their company. Not after the day I’ve had.

Just as I’m about to head to the kitchen so I can grab some wine before hiding in the bedroom, Ryan spots me, his face breaking into a smile. I try to return it, but it’s more like a grimace that feels horrible on my face. His smile drops, my name dying on his lips when he takes in my expression. He gets up, water streaming down his body, but I don’t wait for him, turning and marching to the kitchen, not caring if I’m being rude.

My eyes fall to the nearly empty bottle of wine on the counter, and I have to bite back tears. Really? Is an empty bottle of wine the thing that’s going to tip me over the edge? But it’s my wine that she’s drinking. The one that’s a bit too sweet for her taste. And it’s my last bottle.

Just how long have they been out there?

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Ryan says, a towel tied around his waist.

I look down at the little pools of water that are dripping from his still-wet body, my hands clenching at my sides. Water that I’ll most probably have to mop up.

I bet you didn’t. You’re too busy with your friend who’s drinking my wine in the hot tub I bought. For us. The friend who only has eyes for you and wants nothing to do with me. The friend who I strongly suspect is trying to replace me in your life. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I school my face into a blank mask and turn to him.

“I messaged you when I left.”

“You did? Shit, sorry. I left my phone in my office.”

“Why do you sound surprised? I usually message you when I leave work.”

It’s something he insisted I do. For his peace of mind.

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

Time is not the only thing you lost track of.

Sighing, I let my eyes linger on the bottle, trying to beat down the helpless feeling bubbling in my stomach. Everything that’s been going on is not okay, and I’m at a complete loss for how to navigate this situation.

None of my previous relationships prepared me for this situation because none of them were serious enough for me to invest all of myself. Beyond the initial heartbreak of a failed relationship, they were easy to walk away from. Not Ryan. Losing him would break me.

I don’t know how to voice what I’m feeling in a way that he’ll understand. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll come across as insecure, insensitive, and selfish. Paranoid. He said she’s like a sister, but the way she looks at him and touches him—it’s nothing like his relationship with Rose. Rose isn’t territorial about him. She doesn’t touch him every chance she gets. She doesn’t cuddle with him.

All these things have my gut screaming at me, and I’d be stupid to ignore it.

I’m scared.

The thought stops me cold. It’s not only the fear that I’ll sound unreasonable. It’s the fear that he’ll take her side over mine. Fear that he cares more for her than me.

I want my mom. Nobody in the world loved me as much as she did, and I want her to hug me and tell me everything will be okay. My heart aches as the pain of losing her overwhelms me once more. When does losing someone you love stop hurting?

“Aspen.”

The sound of Ryan’s voice pulls me from this spiral I’m in, and I turn, finding his concerned eyes on me.

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

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