Fears and Scars (13 page)

I
am
being paranoid.
He’s just busy. He spent the last four months working long distance, and he is just catching up.

Lying to myself is easy these days, but the lies don’t silence the doubts rioting in my head.

T
he next week
comes and goes, and my patience joins it out of the door.

I’ve worried myself sick for the past week—I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay. It’s not. I feel it in my gut.

It’s not okay to be on pins and needles waiting for Ryan’s calls, which are fewer and farther between. He claims to be super busy all the time now. I call bullshit. He moved to Moscow for me; he bent his life to fit into mine. So what’s changed? His recent actions contradict everything he’s done since we met. Where is the man ready to move mountains to be with me? Where is the man who promised to always be there for me?

Something is going on, and I plan to find out the truth today.

It’s eight a.m. on a Sunday morning for me and still Saturday night for Ryan.

Feeling resolute and excited that all the questions jabbing under my skin are about to be answered, I dial his number.

It’s almost the middle of the night for you, Price, so you better not tell me you’re busy.

“Hi, sweetheart. You’re up early.” Ryan’s voice sounds exhausted, and I suddenly feel bad. He must have worked late again, and here I am with my crazy thoughts.

“Hey. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. What’re you plans for today?”

“I’ll be at the clinic with Granny the whole day. What about you?”

“Same old. I may need to make a quick trip to San Francisco to check a possible location for Price Designs.”

My heart plummets. He was supposed to be flying to Moscow tomorrow.

I’m so sick of waiting and putting on a brave face when all I want to do is to be in his arms again and drive every ounce of confusion from my mind. I need the reassurance from him that we’re still going strong and that I’m not going crazy. Maybe it makes me weak to need him, but damn it, I do.

“You aren’t coming back on Monday, are you, Ryan?”

His resigned sigh says it all and breaks my heart beyond any measure.

“Why?” Why did he pretend like he was planning to come home?

“Liz, baby …” Two words that were my favorite only days ago slice me even more.

He doesn't owe me anything,
my inner voice taunts.

Yes, he does. After all his promises, he owes me a fucking happy ending.

“Just tell me why, Ryan. I deserve at least an explanation.”

Listening to the silence on the other end, I rile myself up even more remembering all his promises—
I love you, Liz. I’m in it for the long haul. I want to spend my life with you. I want to have children with you and fall asleep every night next to you. Liz, you are my wife now.

“Why can’t you come back, Ryan? I …” I pause, emotions choking me up. After a deep breath, I go on, “I’m okay with you staying in New York, but I need to know what’s going on because right now millions of horrible ideas and panicked thoughts are swirling in my mind. Each one worse than the other.”

“I can't explain this over the phone.” His words only intensify the ache in my stomach. “I already told you I needed to take care of something, and I’m doing exactly that. I’m trying to make it better for you—for us.” His voice cracks on the last word.

That’s his explanation?

“If you think I’m okay with that lame excuse, you’re very mistaken. I’m sick of just letting it go. And I’m so confused.” Fierceness grips my voice. “You promised you’d be back in a week, but it’s been six weeks. Six. I mean, you can’t even imagine half the scenarios running through my head about what you’re hiding from me. Again.” He’s silent, and I ignore the tears rolling my cheeks and ask him, “Did you have enough? You got bored with me?”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Liz. Why can’t you see that?” The anguish in his voice is so palpable it reverberates through the speaker. If it’s hurting him as much as me why is he doing this to us?

“What’s so important that you can’t come back and don’t want me to come there?”

A pained groan rumbles up from his chest through the line, but no words follow.

“You won’t let it go.” It sounds like a statement, not a question, but I still confirm. “I won’t.”

“I …Look—”

Then something I didn’t expect happens. I hear a voice in the background. Someone is saying something to Ryan, and Ryan must have muffled the phone because I can’t make out whether it’s a man or a woman, nor can I understand what he says in return.

My stomach hits the floor. Someone is in my fiancé’s apartment in the middle of the night on a weekend. It’s not Mark because he’s in London. Nina mentioned it when we talked on the phone last night.

Every nagging doubt I’ve been fighting to ignore becomes a reality.

“Liz, I have to go. I’ll call you back.”

“Who is—” The line goes dead before the question leaves my mouth.

I stay frozen on the bed and let my phone drop to my lap. My imagination immediately goes wild, picturing Ryan with another woman, his lips pressed to hers, her legs wrapped around his waist, him telling her he loves her. Pain radiates from deep inside me into every cell of my body and my stomach rolls at the thought.

It can’t be true. Ryan can’t do this to me.

Time slows while I wait for him to call me back. The ugly acid of jealousy eats at my stomach. Each passing second feels like a decade.

There must be some explanation.

I
can’t lose Elizabeth
.

I pace around my bedroom frantically searching for some explanation and find several, but all of them are lies. I can’t tell her the truth.

I can’t tell her that it was her brother who interrupted us. Neither can I tell her that he’s been living with me for six weeks, and I’ve been lying to her this whole time. Or that the best attorneys money can buy are doing everything in their power to help Jacob get emancipated, but nothing is working. The judge thinks he doesn’t have any support system and won’t do well on his own considering his past transgressions.

I also can’t tell her that her brother, who suffers from nightmares, has chosen to sleep in the living room because he ‘dislikes walls and doors.’ Or that it took me two weeks to figure out why he refuses to attend a private high school. Apparently, Jacob is at least three years behind. After much
coaxing
, he explained that he missed a lot of school while his mother was sick and never caught up while he lived with his uncle.

I can’t tell her any of that.

But I can’t lose her either.

Shit.

Jacob clearly needs my help. He’s a little boy left without parents far too early. He needs support. Abandoning Jacob right now is unfathomable but staying with him may cost me the love of my life. What do I do?

The woman I love deserves the truth. Elizabeth deserves so much better than how I’ve been treating her lately.

Guilt settles heavy over me. I rub my hand over the knotted muscles at the back of my neck, completely torn.

Her words echo in my head:
Trust is a foundation of relationships. Our future marriage won’t survive without it.

I close my eyes for a brief moment and breathe deeply. The longer I wait to call her back, the more I make her suffer, dreaming up horrible scenarios about me.

Dialing her number, I feel hopeless but resolved. Deep down I know what’s needs to be done. There was no going back a long time ago; I was just postponing the inevitable.

“Liz?”

“You aren’t alone,” she whispers through the line.

Her trembling voice breaks my heart. I won’t let her question anything that has to do with my faithfulness.

“There’s no one else. I swear. There never will be.” I vow. I can’t answer her question without lying, so I ignore it. “You’re my wife, my heart, Elizabeth. I’d never cheat on you.”

“But it doesn’t stop you from lying and hiding things from me.” It kills me to hear her hurt tremble in her words. “If I were truly your heart, Ryan, there would be nothing hidden between us. We don’t hide things from our hearts.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Liz. People lie to themselves all the time, but I’m sure you’re my heart because I want to protect you no matter the cost. I don’t want you bleeding, hurt, torn. I want you safe. I need you safe to function, to breathe.”

“Then I don’t want to be your heart. I want to be your partner so you’ll share things with me.”

No matter what happens to me, she’s the first person I want to share it with, but I haven’t done that lately. I screwed up. Suddenly, I realize I’m acting like my father. He was a monster. A sick man who thrived on terrorizing people. He was a manipulator. As am I. Without realizing it, I became the man whose blood runs through my veins. I don’t want to be that man.

The desire to admit the whole truth is overwhelming, but it won’t make things any better between us, it will only add to Elizabeth’s long list of worries.

I give her the only explanation I’ve got. “I love you.”

She’s silent for a long moment before saying in a shattered whisper, “You’re hurting me, Ryan.”

Her sweet voice—my favorite sound in the world—is laced with so much pain, it snatches the breath out of me. The realization that I caused this strikes something deep inside me.

Elizabeth adds more firmly, “I deserve better than this.”

She does. She deserves all the happiness in the world. She deserves someone who is as pure and good as she is. Who hasn’t been manipulating her from the start. Who wouldn’t come up with a nonexistent job for her, hire a PI to follow her, read messages on her phone and private journal. Who wouldn’t hide anything from her.

She deserves so much better.

I never felt worthy of someone as perfect as Liz, but I hoped with everything I was; that I could be good enough for her. But only yesterday I was on the phone making sure she would get an internship with the best photographer in Moscow. Another secret, more of me pulling strings. Fuck. I screwed up, and there’s no going back.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes.

It has to be done.

For the woman I love more than anything else in this world.

For her future.

I want to be with Elizabeth more than I want my next breath, but I want her to be happy more. I can’t allow her to feel torn, to sacrifice her dreams again. It’s her time now. And I can’t let my selfishness get the better of me. She’s too important—too precious.

Sacrificing your own happiness for someone you love is what love is about, isn’t it?

I force myself to steady my voice. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but I need to concentrate on my dream—my company. Working long-distance won’t cut it. Neither will flying back and forth. Your constant calls and messages, they are—”
the best part of my days
, “—distracting. I need my head in the game.”

R
yan’s voice
is firm and steady when he tells me he’s going to follow his dreams. Dreams that don’t include me.

“I’m sorry. Being in New York put everything into perspective. You were right to think I was rushing things between us.”

“Are you saying …” My voice cracks. I hate that it does, and grip my cell tighter to stop the tremors.

“I’m saying I think we should take a break. Follow our dreams separately. Concentrate on what’s important.”

Each word is an ice cold blade into my chest. The sharp pain from his words hits me so hard I almost double over.

“But …”
Life with you is my biggest dream.
“You proposed. We picked a wedding date. We talked about kids ... you told me you’d never hurt me. You … you …” I’m unable to articulate a sentence, my throat clogged with emotion.

Is he ending things between us? Is he breaking up with me?

He can’t do it. He won’t.

“I never meant to hurt you, Liz. I’m so sorry, baby. I love you so much, but I need to do what’s best for you. I’m not coming back.”

Oh, God, my heart! A knife has been lodged in my heart and Ryan is brutally twisting it around and around.

“I must do what’s best for you,” he repeats.

What’s best for me? Is he fucking kidding me?

Anger rises in my veins. “Shut up. Shut up! You don’t get to break my heart and say those things afterward.” It isn’t fair!

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say? Fuck you and all your promises. Fuck you! I … God, I can’t believe …” I can’t believe he’s smashing my heart like this.

The tears come hard and fast making it impossible to breathe.

“Liz—”

The way my name rolls off his tongue makes it even worse. It almost seems like he’s as devastated as I am, and it’s not true. He’s ending things between us. Things that have no business ending. He’s throwing away my love for him because it’s not convenient anymore. Our love was supposed to last forever.

“I never wanted for us … Shit.” He clears his throat.

“Don’t ever call me again. I never want to see you again.” I don’t know how I manage to say those words, but I do. Then I end the call because I can’t take any more lame excuses. There’s nothing more to say. Nothing he could tell me will change the fact that he’s a liar and a bastard.

My whole body shakes as anguish penetrates my cells. Tears fall in hot streams down my cheeks, and I don’t stop them. I can’t. It hurts. Everything fucking hurts so much. Excruciating pain recoils thought my whole weak body, bruising a few parts of me that haven't been battered before.

I hate Ryan. Hate him for appearing in my life, for making me happy and putting me back together only to rip me apart a million times worse.

The phone drops from my hand and I double over, wrapping my arms around my middle. Nausea hits me full force, and I bolt to the bathroom, barely making it in time.

I should have known better. Good things don’t last forever. The best things are snatched from you when you least expect it. Only this time it wasn’t a heartless higher power who took it away from me. No. It was Ryan Price—the heartless man I was foolish enough to fall so deeply in love with.