It Ends With Us (36 page)

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With everything Allysa is throwing in her diaper bag, it looks like I’m about to take Rylee on a trip across the country. “She’ll let you know when she’s
hungry. Don’t use the microwave to heat the milk, just put it in . . .”

“I know,” I interrupt. “I’ve made her like fifty bottles since she’s been alive.”

Allysa nods and then walks over to her bed. She drops the diaper bag down beside me. Marshall is in the living room feeding Rylee one last time, so Allysa lies down beside me on the bed while we
wait. She props her head up on her hand.

“Do you know what this means?” she asks.

“No. What?”

“I get to have sex tonight. It’s been four months.”

I crinkle up my nose. “I didn’t need to know that.”

She laughs and falls down on her pillow, but then sits straight up. “Shit,” she says. “I should probably shave my legs. I think it’s been four months since I did that,
too.”

I laugh, but then I gasp. My hands move quickly to my stomach. “Oh my God! I just felt something!”

“Really?” Allysa puts her hand on my stomach and we’re both quiet for the next five minutes as we wait for it to happen again. It does, but it’s so soft, it’s
almost unnoticeable. I laugh again as soon as it happens.

“I didn’t feel anything,” Allysa says, pouting. “I guess it’ll be a few more weeks before you can feel it from the outside, though. Is this the first time you felt
it move?”

“Yeah. I’ve been scared I was growing the laziest baby in history.” I keep my hands on my stomach, hoping to feel it again. We sit quietly for a few more minutes, and I
can’t help but wish my circumstances were different. Ryle should be here. He should be the one sitting beside me with his hand on my stomach. Not Allysa.

The thought almost takes away all the joy I’m feeling. Allysa must notice because she puts one of her hands on mine and squeezes. When I look at her, she isn’t smiling anymore.

“Lily,” she says. “I’ve been wanting to say something to you.”

Oh, God. I don’t like the sound of her voice.

“What is it?”

She sighs and then forces a gloomy smile. “I know you’re sad that you’re going through this without my brother. No matter how involved he is, I just want you to know that this
is going to be the best thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re gonna be a great mom, Lily. This baby is
really
lucky.”

I’m glad Allysa is the only one in here right now, because her words make me laugh, cry, and snot like a hormonal teenager. I hug her and tell her thank you. It’s amazing how hearing
those words gives me back the joy I was feeling.

She smiles and then says, “Now go get my baby and take her away from here so I can have some sex with my filthy rich husband.”

I roll off the bed and stand up. “You sure know how to bring levity into a situation. I’d say it’s your strong point.”

She smiles. “That’s what I’m here for. Now go away.”

Of all the secrets I’ve held over the last few months, I’m the saddest about keeping everything from my mother. I don’t know how she’ll take it. I know
she’ll be excited about the pregnancy, but I don’t know how she’ll feel about me and Ryle splitting up. She loves Ryle. And based on her history with these types of situations,
she’ll probably find it very easy to excuse his behavior and try and convince me to take him back. And in all honesty, that’s part of the reason I’ve been stalling this, because
I’m scared there’s a chance she might be successful.

Most days I’m strong. Most days I’m so mad at him that the thought of ever forgiving him is ludicrous. But some days I miss him so much I can’t breathe. I miss the fun I had
with him. I miss making love to him. I miss
missing
him. He used to work so many hours that when he would walk in the front door at night I would rush across the room and jump in his arms
because I missed him so much. I even miss how much he loved it when I would do that.

It’s the not-so-strong days when I wish my mother knew about everything that was going on. I sometimes just want to drive over to her house and curl up on the couch with her while she
tucks my hair behind my ear and tells me it’ll all be okay. Sometimes even grown women need their mother’s comfort so we can just take a break from having to be strong all the time.

I sit in my car, parked in her driveway, for a good five minutes before I work up the strength to go inside. It sucks that I have to do this because I know that in a way, I’ll be breaking
her heart, too. I hate it when she’s sad and telling her I married a man who might be like my father is going to make her really sad.

When I walk through the front door, she’s in the kitchen layering noodles in a pan. I don’t remove my coat right away for obvious reasons. I’m not wearing a maternity shirt but
my bump is almost impossible to hide without a jacket. Especially from a mother.

“Hey, sweetie!” she says.

I walk into the kitchen and give her a side hug while she layers cheese over the top of the lasagna. Once the lasagna is in the oven, we walk over to the dining room table and take a seat. She
leans back in her chair and takes a sip from a glass of tea.

She’s smiling. I hate it even more that she looks so happy right now.

“Lily,” she says. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

I don’t like this. I was coming over here to talk to
her
. I’m not prepared to
receive
a talk.

“What is it?” I ask hesitantly.

She grips her glass of tea with both hands. “I’m seeing someone.”

My mouth drops open.

“Really?” I ask, shaking my head. “That’s . . .” I’m about to say
good
, but then I grow instantly worried that she’s just put
herself in a similar situation she was in with my father. She can see the worry on my face, so she grabs my hands in both of hers.

“He’s good, Lily. He’s so good. I promise.”

Relief washes over me in an instant, because I can see she’s telling the truth. I can see the happiness in her eyes. “Wow,” I say, not expecting this at all. “I’m
happy for you. When can I meet him?”

“Tonight, if you want,” she says. “I can invite him over to eat with us.”

I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. “Now’s not a good time.”

Her hands squeeze around mine as soon as she realizes I’m here to tell her something important. I start with the better part of the news first.

I stand up and remove my jacket. At first, she doesn’t think anything of it. She just assumes I’m making myself comfortable. But then I take one of her hands and I press it against
my stomach. “You’re gonna be a grandma.”

Her eyes widen and for several seconds, she’s stunned speechless. But then tears begin to form. She jumps up and pulls me into a hug. “Lily!” she says. “Oh my God!”
She pulls back, smiling. “That was so fast. Were you trying? You haven’t even been married for very long.”

I shake my head. “No. It was a shock. Believe me.”

She laughs and after another hug, we both sit down again. I try to keep up my smile, but it’s not the smile of an elated expectant mother. She sees that almost immediately. She slides a
hand over her mouth. “Sweetie,” she whispers. “What’s the matter?”

Until this moment, I’ve fought to remain strong. I’ve fought to not feel too sorry for myself when I’m around other people. But sitting here with my mother, I crave weakness. I
just want to be able to give up for a little while. I want her to take over and hug me and tell me it’ll all be okay. And for the next fifteen minutes while I cry in her arms, that’s
exactly what happens. I just stop fighting for myself because I need someone else to do it for me.

I spare her most of the details of our relationship, but I do tell her the most important things. That he’s hurt me on more than one occasion, and I don’t know what to do. That
I’m scared to have this baby alone. That I’m scared I might make the wrong decision. That I’m scared I’m being too weak and that I should have had him arrested. That
I’m scared I’m being too sensitive and I don’t know if I’m overreacting. Basically, I tell her everything I haven’t even been brave enough to fully admit to
myself.

She retrieves some napkins out of the kitchen and comes back to the table. After our eyes are finally dry, she begins to crumple the napkin up between her hands, rolling it over in circles as
she stares down at it.

“Do you want to take him back?” she asks.

I don’t say yes. But I also don’t say no.

This is the first moment since this has happened that I’m being completely honest. I’m honest to her
and
to myself. Maybe because she’s the only one I know who has been
through this. She’s the only one I know who would understand the massive amounts of confusion I’ve been experiencing.

I shake my head, but I also shrug. “Most of me feels like I’ll never be able to trust him again. But a huge part of me grieves what I had with him. We were so good together, Mom. The
times I spent with him were some of the best moments of my life. And occasionally I feel like maybe I don’t want to give that up.”

I wipe the napkin beneath my eye, soaking up more tears. “Sometimes . . . when I’m really missing him . . . I tell myself that maybe it wasn’t
that bad. Maybe I could put up with him when he’s at his worst just so I can have him when he’s at his best.”

She puts her hand on top of mine and rubs her thumb back and forth. “I know exactly what you mean, Lily. But the last thing you want to do is lose sight of your limit. Please don’t
allow that to happen.”

I have no idea what she means by that. She sees the confusion in my expression, so she squeezes my arm and explains in more detail.

“We all have a limit. What we’re willing to put up with before we break. When I married your father, I knew exactly what my limit was. But slowly . . . with every
incident . . . my limit was pushed a little more. And a little more. The first time your father hit me, he was immediately sorry. He swore it would never happen again. The second
time he hit me, he was even
more
sorry. The third time it happened, it was more than a hit. It was a beating. And every single time, I took him back. But the fourth time, it was only a slap.
And when that happened, I felt relieved. I remember thinking,
‘At least he didn’t beat me this time. This wasn’t so bad.’ ”

She brings the napkin up to her eyes and says, “Every incident chips away at your limit. Every time you choose to stay, it makes the next time that much harder to leave. Eventually, you
lose sight of your limit altogether, because you start to think,
‘I’ve lasted five years now. What’s five more?’ ”

She grabs my hands and holds them while I cry. “Don’t be like me, Lily. I know that you believe he loves you, and I’m sure he does. But he’s not loving you the right way.
He doesn’t love you the way you deserve to be loved. If Ryle truly loves you, he wouldn’t allow you to take him back. He would make the decision to leave you himself so that he knows
for a fact he can never hurt you again. That’s the kind of love a woman deserves, Lily.”

I wish with all my heart that she didn’t learn these things from experience. I pull her to me and hug her.

For whatever reason, I thought I would have to defend myself to her when I came over here. Not once did I think I would come over here and learn from her. I should know better. I thought my
mother was weak in the past, but she’s actually one of the strongest women I know.

“Mom?” I say, pulling back. “I want to be you when I grow up.”

She laughs and brushes the hair from my face. I can see in the way she looks at me that she’d trade spots with me in a heartbeat. She’s feeling more pain for me in this moment than
she ever felt for herself. “I want to tell you something,” she says.

She reaches for my hands again.

“The day you gave your father’s eulogy? I know you didn’t freeze up, Lily. You stood at that podium and refused to say a single good thing about that man. It was the proudest I
have ever been of you. You were the only one in my life who ever stood up for me. You were strong when I was scared.” A tear falls from her eye when she says, “Be
that
girl, Lily. Brave and bold.”

“What am I going to do with three car seats?”

I’m sitting on Allysa’s couch, staring at all the stuff. She threw me a baby shower today. My mother came. Ryle’s mother even flew in for it, but she’s in the guest room
sleeping off her jet lag now. The girls from the floral shop came and a few friends from my old job. Even Devin came. It was actually a lot of fun, despite the fact that I’ve been dreading it
for the past several weeks.

“That’s why I told you to start a registry, so none of the gifts would be duplicated,” Allysa says.

I sigh. “I guess I can have Mom return hers. She’s bought me enough stuff as it is.”

I stand up and start gathering all the gifts. Marshall already said he’d help me carry them down to my apartment, so Allysa helps me throw everything inside trash bags. I hold them open
while she picks everything up from the floor. I’m almost thirty weeks pregnant now, so she doesn’t get the easier job of holding open the trash.

We have everything bagged up and Marshall is on his second trip down to my apartment when I open Allysa’s front door, prepared to drag a trash bag full of gifts to the elevator. What
I’m not prepared for is Ryle, who is standing on the other side of the door looking back at me. We both look equally as shocked to see each other, considering we haven’t spoken since
our fight three months ago.

This encounter was bound to happen, though. I can’t be best friends with my husband’s sister and live in the same building as him without eventually running into him.

I’m sure he knew I was having the shower today since his mother flew in for it, but he still looks a little surprised when he sees all the stuff behind me. It makes me wonder if him
showing up just as I’m leaving is a coincidence or a suitable convenience. He looks down at the trash bag I’m holding and he takes it from my hands. “Let me get this.”