It Starts with Us: A Novel (2) (It Ends with Us)

It’s only been half an hour since I checked my phone, so I’m alarmed when I see several missed calls and three texts from Lily.

Please call me.

I’m okay but Ryle is angry.

Did he show up there? Atlas, please call me.

Shit.

“Darin, can you take over?”

Darin moves to finish plating for me, and I immediately walk to my office and call her. Her phone goes straight to voice mail. I try her again. Nothing.

I’m preparing to head out back to my car when my phone finally rings. I answer immediately with, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says.

I stop rushing toward the door and lean my shoulder into a wall. I release a breath, my heart rate plummeting back to normal.

It sounds like she’s driving. “I’m going to pick up Emmy. I just wanted to warn you that he’s angry. I was worried he might show up there.”

“Thanks for the warning. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Call me when you get home. I don’t care how late it is.”

Ryle bursts through the kitchen doors in the middle of her sentence. He makes enough of a ruckus that everyone notices and pauses what they’re doing. Derek, my head waiter, is right behind Ryle.

“I said I would get him,” Derek is saying to Ryle. Derek looks at me and throws up his hands to let me know he tried to prevent the intrusion.

“I’ll call you on my way home,” I say. I fail to mention Ryle just showed up. I don’t want her to be concerned. I end the call right as Ryle’s eyes land on me.

I don’t think he’s here to congratulate me.

“Who is that?” Darin asks.

“My biggest fan.” I nudge my head toward the back door, so Ryle starts walking in that direction.

The kitchen begins to buzz again, everyone ignoring Ryle’s intrusion. Everyone but Darin. “You need me to do something?”

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”

Ryle pushes open the back door so hard, it slams against the outside wall.

What a piece of work. I head in that direction, but as soon as I open the back door and walk onto the back steps, Ryle comes at me from the left. He knocks me off the steps, and then, when I try to stand up, he punches me.

It’s a good punch, too. I’ll give him that.

Fuck.

I wipe my mouth and stand up, thankful he’s at least giving me room to do that. It’s not really a fair advantage when one person is on the ground when the punching begins. But Ryle doesn’t seem like the type to play fair.

He’s about to hit me again, but I back up and he ends up tripping. He pushes off the ground, and when he’s back on his feet, he stares at me, fuming. He doesn’t seem to be in attack mode in the moment.

“You done?” I ask him.

He doesn’t respond, but I don’t think he’ll lunge for me again. Ryle straightens his shirt and smirks. “I liked it better when you fought back last time.”

I struggle not to roll my eyes. “I have no desire to fight you.”

He pops his neck and starts to pace. He has so much anger in him, I can’t imagine what this must be like for Lily when she has to witness it. He’s breathing heavily, his hands on his hips, his eyes piercing me like knives. I don’t just see anger in his expression. I see a hell of a lot of pain.

I sometimes try to put myself in Ryle’s shoes, but as much as I struggle to stand in them, they don’t fit. They never will, because there isn’t a single human in history with a past misfortunate enough to excuse beating the person you’re supposed to protect.

“Just say whatever it is you came here to say.”

Ryle wipes blood away from his knuckles with his shirt, and I notice his hand is swollen. It looks like he was punching things before he showed up and hit me. I’m glad I know Lily is okay, or he wouldn’t be walking away in the same condition he showed up in.

“You think I don’t know the lawyer was your idea?” he says.

I try to hide my surprise, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. Did she speak to a lawyer about her situation? It makes me want to smile, but I’m sure a smile would antagonize Ryle, and I do enough of that simply by existing.

My lack of response is getting under his skin. Ryle’s face twists in anger. “You might have her fooled right now, but you’ll have your first fight with her. And your second. She’ll see that marriage isn’t fucking rainbows all the goddamn time.”

“I could have a million arguments with her, but I can promise you they’ll never end with her in the hospital.”

Ryle laughs. He’s trying to spin this to look like I’m the ridiculous one. I’m not the one who barged into his place of work because I couldn’t control my emotions.

“You have no idea what Lily and I have been through,” he says. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

It’s like he showed up wanting a fight, but I’m not giving him that, so he’s using it as a venting session. Maybe I should give him Theo’s number. I’m seriously at a loss here.

I don’t want to come back to this moment tomorrow and see it as a lost opportunity. My only goal is to make Lily’s life with this man more peaceful. The last thing I want to do is make things more difficult between us all, but until he gets it through his head that he’s the only one in control of his reactions, I’m just as confused as Lily as to how to deal with him.

“You’re right, Ryle.” I nod slowly. “You’re right. I have no idea what you’ve been through.” I take a seat on the stairs to let him know he has no reason to feel threatened by me. And if he tries to attack me again while I’m sitting, I’m not going to respond to him with as much composure this time. I clasp my hands together and do my very best to speak in a way that might get through to him.

“Whatever happened in your past helped make you a great neurosurgeon, and the world needs that side of you. But your past also—for whatever reason—made you a shitty husband. The world doesn’t need that side of you. Just because we get the opportunity to be something, that isn’t a guarantee that we’ll be good at it.”

Ryle rolls his eyes. “That’s dramatic.”

“I watched them stitch her up, Ryle. Wake the fuck up, man. You were a horrible husband.”

He stares at me for a beat, then says, “What has you convinced you’ll be any better?”

“Treating Lily the way she deserves to be treated is the easiest part of my life. I think you should be relieved she’s with someone like me.”

He laughs. “Relieved? I should be relieved?” He takes several steps toward me, his anger ascending again. “You’re the reason we aren’t together!”

It takes everything in me to remain on these steps, and every ounce of patience I have not to return his shouts with my own. “You’re the reason you aren’t together. It was your anger and your fists that got you here. I was barely an acquaintance in Lily’s life when she was with you, so do the mature thing and stop blaming me, and Lily, and everyone else for your actions.” I stand up, but not to hit him. I just need to make room in my chest to exhale because if I don’t, I’m not sure how much longer I can do this without raising my voice to his level. It’s hard looking at him and remaining composed, knowing what he’s done to Lily. “Dammit,” I mutter. “This is ridiculous.”

Ryle and I are both quiet for a moment. Maybe he can tell I’m at my limit because I’m not keeping my frustration as under control anymore. I spin and face him, looking at him pleadingly. “This is our life now. Yours, mine, Lily’s, your daughter’s. We have to deal with this. Forever. Holidays, birthdays, graduations, Emerson’s wedding. All these things are going to be difficult for you, but you’re the only one who can make sure they aren’t difficult for the rest of us, too. Because none of us owes you our happiness. Especially Lily.”

Ryle shakes his head. He paces like he’s trying to erase the asphalt and uncover earth. “You expect me to what—to cheer you two on? To wish you well? To encourage you to be a good father to my fucking daughter?” He laughs at the absurdity he finds in the idea of that, but I keep a very straight face.

“Yes. Exactly that.”

I think my response throws him off. He pauses and threads his hands at the nape of his neck.

I take a step closer to him, but not in a threatening way. I don’t want to yell. I want Ryle to hear the absolute sincerity in my voice. “As happy as I know I can make Lily, she’ll never be fully happy until she has your acceptance and cooperation. And you’re making it difficult, even though you know she deserves a good life. They both do. If you want your daughter to grow up with the best version of Lily, then please work with her. This is possible for all of us.”

Ryle rolls his neck. “What are we, some kind of team now?”

I hate that he’s trying to make any of this sound beyond the realm of possibility. “A team is the only thing people should be when kids are involved.”

That hits him. I can see it in the way he flinches, and then subtly swallows. He turns around and faces away from me, taking a few steps while he contemplates everything I’ve said. When he turns back around and looks at me, there’s a little less vitriol there.

“When things don’t work out between the two of you and Lily needs somewhere to run, I’m not picking up the pieces this time.” With that, Ryle walks away. He doesn’t go through the restaurant this time. He heads down the alley, toward the street.

I can do nothing but stare at him with pity as he walks away. He truly doesn’t know Lily at all.

At all.

Lily doesn’t run to people. She didn’t run after me when I left Maine. She didn’t run to me when she left Ryle. She focused on being a mother. Yet that’s what he expects her to do if things don’t work out between us? Run to him like he’s her home base?

Lily’s home base is Emerson, and if he still can’t see that, he’s clueless.

If Lily had stayed with him, he would have spent the rest of their lives inventing issues in order to justify his excessive anger. Because I was never an issue in their marriage, and I never would have been.

I thought I pitied him before, but he’s fighting for a woman he barely even knows, which means he’s just fighting for the sake of fighting. He’s got a very similar personality to my mother, and sometimes there’s no fixing that. You just have to learn to live your life around it.

Maybe that’s what Lily and I are going to have to do. Learn to live our lives the best we can while occasionally having to deal with the ridiculous wrath of Ryle.

That’s fine. I’d go through this shit every day if it means I’m the one who gets to fall asleep next to her every night.

I walk up the steps and return to the hustle of the kitchen, and I get right back to work like he was never even here. I don’t know if my response tonight made this situation better, but I definitely don’t think I made it worse.

Darin hands me a wet rag. “You’re bleeding.” He points to the left side of my mouth, so I hold the rag there. “Was that her ex?”

“Yeah.”

“Everything okay now?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. He might get mad and come back. Hell, this could go on for years.” I look at Darin and smile. “But she’s worth it.”

Three hours later, I’m knocking softly on Lily’s apartment door. I texted her to let her know I was coming. I thought she might need another drive-by hug.

When she opens her door, it’s clear that’s exactly what she needs. And what I need. As soon as we’re inside her living room, she slips her arms around my waist and I fold myself around her. We remain embraced for a couple of minutes.

When she lifts her face, her eyebrows draw apart when she sees the small cut on my lip. “He’s such an immature asshole. Did you put ice on it?”

“I’ll be fine. It didn’t even swell.”

Lily lifts up onto her toes and kisses my cut. “Tell me what happened.”

We sit on the couch and I try to recall everything that was said, but I’m sure I leave a few things out. When I’m finished speaking, she’s leaning against the back of the couch with a leg draped over mine, concentrating. She’s threading her fingers in and out of my hair.

She’s quiet for a long time. Then she just looks at me with a sweetness that melts over me. “I’m convinced you’re the only man on the planet who could get punched and then offer the aggressor advice.” Before I can respond, she’s sliding onto my lap, bringing her face close to mine. “Don’t worry, I find it so much more appealing than if you would have fought him back.”

I slide my hands up her back, surprised she’s in such a good mood. I don’t know why I thought this conversation would be a weight on her. But I guess this is the best possible outcome. Ryle knows we’re a thing, I had a chance to say my piece, and we all came out of it relatively unharmed.

“I can’t stay long, but I can probably stretch this hug out for another fifteen minutes before Josh notices I’m late.”

She raises an eyebrow. “When you say ‘hug,’ do you mean…”

“I mean get naked—we’re down to fourteen minutes.” I push her onto her back and kiss her, and we don’t stop for fourteen minutes. Then seventeen. Then twenty.

It’s thirty minutes later before I finally walk out of her apartment.