Page 89 of Fall to Me
“Fuck you.”
“You know what? You’re right. Fuck me. Yeah, yeah, yeah, because all I’veeverdone was love you the way you deserve to be loved. Be the husband I’m supposed to be. And this prepubescent fit you’re throwing is what I get in return. After the attack, you acted like you didn’t give a shit what happened to you. What was it that you said? Oh yeah, I remember. ‘My give a fucks have completely run out.’ So, I found a way to protect you from yourself and your piece-of-shit ex. Someone to watch out for you when I couldn’t.
“If I would’ve told you, then you would’ve fought me. Did you ever once even consider that maybe, just maybe, carrying the weight of the constant worry over your safety might be a little too much for me to do on my own? That the thought of me not being here to protect you, around the clock, damn near drove me to insanity? No, you didn’t. Because all you’ve thought about was yourself. So yeah, River, fuck me, but you know what? Right back at you.” He storms out, slamming the door behind him.
I slide down the wall, with my knees pressed against my chest, and bawl into my hands.
Oh god. What the fuck just happened?
I swipe my tears with the back of my hand, but they keep pouring down my cheeks. My heart splinters into pieces as I lift my chin and stare at the door he just stormed out of.
He’ll come back, right? I mean, I had every right to be angry. He was wrong. He crossed a line.
Heaving myself up off the floor, I drag my feet into the bathroom, strip, then step into a scalding hot shower. My mind keeps racing over his angry words as I wash my body. I crumple to the floor of the shower, letting the water rain down to cover my tears.
Memories of the way I’ve treated him over the past year begin to replay behind my closed eyes. He’s always taken my shit with a smile or a smart comment, but he’s never been angry with me before.
Each minute that ticks by creates a deeper sense of loneliness. The air around me stretches thinner, and the distance between us is crushing.
He’s not coming back for me.
I step out of the shower and dry off. Wrapping a towel around myself, I head out of my old room. Carter sits on the couch in the living room, watching the sports network. I move to stand in front of him, to garner his attention, but he stares right through me, like I don’t even exist. My heart aches, and tears burn my lids. We’ve never been in a room together where I haven’t felt his eyes on me. I have no idea what to do. I feel so helpless. I thought maybe I’d come in here and we’d talk it out, but he’s . . . I don’t know . . . checked out.
Sighing, I turn and walk to the kitchen. I fumble through the cabinet on my tiptoes, trying to reach a glass, when I hear the sports highlight.
“Tonight, in hockey, the New York Blaze turned up the heat against Toronto.”
“Yeah, they did,”another sportscaster says.
My ears perk up, and my hand slides down the cabinet as my feet lower back to the ground.
“Man, Graham was on fire. I gotta tell you, Stan. That was the best game of his hockey career. A hat trick and five assists in a single game?”the other sportscaster says, his voice full of excitement.
“That hasn’t been done since Gretzky in 1983,”Stan says.
My heart drops. Our fight plays back in my mind.
“All you’ve ever thought about was yourself.”
Abandoning the glass, I come around the island and focus on the TV, watching Carter celebrate play, after play, after play. But the last highlight reel destroys me. The camera pans to him as he looks up, and I assume he’s looking toward my section, because his face shows defeat rather than celebration.
I walked out. I left him there.
He had the best game of his career, and I missed it because I was angry. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would’ve never left me like that.
Angry or not.
I fucked up. He’s done everything in the world for me. I took the goodness in him, weaponized it, and then threw it back in his face. And of all nights to do that, I did it on a night that should’ve been one of the happiest nights of his life.
Oh, God. What the fuck did I do?
Sure, he shouldn’t have gone behind my back, but his intentions were good. He’s never done anything to hurt me on purpose. He was only trying to keep me safe.
I walk over to him and straddle his lap, trying to catch his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Wordlessly, Carter cranes his neck around me and keeps his focus on the TV. I cup his face in my hands and kiss his lips, but they don’t move against mine. He stares right through me.
“Carter, I’m so sorry.”
