In the Stillness(67)

Something like a chirp escapes my throat as I nod, tears pouring down my face.

Seriously, how much can one person cry in their lifetime?

“Also, thank you for pulling the fire alarm that night. It saved us both.” When his blue eyes, ones I once called my own, reach mine, I can’t take it anymore.

Instantly I release his hand and stand, pacing behind the couch with my hands knotted through my hair, trying to fight off a panic attack. Ryker’s brow furrows for a second before he heads to the kitchen and fills a glass with water, handing it to me calmly.

“Thanks.”

“It’s okay, Natalie. We’re not back there . . .” His eyes scroll across my face.

“I am. I have been. I never f*cking left.” Pressing my palm into my forehead, I continue, “I need to get help, I can’t do this anymore. My boys need someone stronger than whatever this is . . .”

Ryker’s eyes close as relief seems to calm his face. Without hesitation, he reaches his hands up and touches my face. “You are strong, Natalie. After everything I already knew, and what you’ve told me tonight, you’re f*cking amazing. But, you’re right, you do need help. We all do sometimes.”

It feels so good to have said it out loud—that I need help. I run my thumb over Ryker’s hand as he drops them from my face. “Thank you. Shit,” I say, looking at the clock, “it’s nearly midnight. I’m sorry I’ve kept you here for so long.”

“Are you going to be okay if I go?” He runs his hands down my shoulders on purpose. He wants to make sure I’m not going to cut myself all night.

“I am.” I believe my own words for the first time in years.

Ryker walks over to the counter, where my cell phone and our cold pizza sit. “Here’s my number,” he says as he taps it into my phone, “please, any time . . .”

I nod as I hear his phone ring.

“I have yours, now, too,” he smiles playfully.

“Great. Thanks for the last two nights, Ryker. I’ve got a busy week ahead of me, what with settling help for my son and, now, me.” When I laugh this time, I catch his eyes, and he smiles back.

“You’ll be good. I know you.” With a shoulder squeeze, he’s heading to the door.

“Thanks again, Ry.” I follow him, opening the door.

“Thank you, Nat.” A suspended moment of uncertainty vanishes as he presses his soft lips to my forehead. My scalp tingles when he pulls away. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” I whisper as he heads down the stairs, hands in his pockets.

I don’t know if we’ll ever scroll to each other’s names to call each other, but I know one thing. I don’t want to cut right now. That has to be a good start.





Chapter 33





“So, Natalie, it’s been three weeks since you officially moved out of yours and Eric’s apartment. How are things going for you?” Dr. Greene crosses her legs and waits with a gentle smile.

I called her first thing in the morning after the night Ryker visited me at Tosha’s. She was able to fit me in by the end of the week, which was great because I was at my wit’s end by then. I’d gone back to what’s now Eric’s apartment and retrieved the rest of my things. Sure, he tried to blame his performance in front of Ryker on his alcohol consumption. But, he wasn’t that drunk. And, by the end of what turned out to be a fairly mature discussion, we realized that there are some broken things that can’t be put back together.

“Listen, Eric,” I said, “It’s going to be hard enough to explain to our parents and the boys about what’s going on. Let’s leave your affair and my cutting out of it, okay? It’ll just make things worse for both of us.”

After a long pause, he said, “Fine. You’re right.”

He has an image to protect, after all. I’m not sure what would be worse for him, admitting an affair, or having a wife with issues.

“Also,” I took a deep breath, “please don’t mention anything about Ryker. I don’t know if he and I will ever see each other again, but you know . . . my mom.” I stared at the floor until Eric grabbed my shoulders.

“I know, Natalie. It’s fine. I’m sorry, again —”

“Don’t. It’s okay. It’s over.”

It’s all over.

Taking a deep gulp of air, I smile back at Dr. Greene. “It’s going okay. I was able to use some of my grandmother’s trust fund to rent an apartment in Northampton for a while, and my old department at Mount Holyoke was thrilled to employ me for adjunct courses. Smith wants me to teach some, too.”

“Have you cut in the last three weeks?”

Man, she gets right to it, doesn’t she?

Knotting my hands, I briefly look to the floor before facing the music. “I have. Once.”

She nods, clearly expecting the answer. “Do you want to talk about it?”

That’s not really a question.

“It was last week. When the boys came home from my parents’ the week before, we had them stay at my place, because Eric had a project to work on and they’re with me most of the time anyway.”

I pause and recall their excitement of staying somewhere new, mixed with the dread I felt about having to explain it to them. I’d called my parents before, and Eric called his, and we gave the most political explanation for our separation we could. Both of our mothers cried.