A Love Like This (39 page)

I threw the phone on the couch next to me
knowing she wouldn’t return the text and got up to get the
scotch.

“What’s going on, Ryan?” Aaron asked.

“I’m getting shitfaced, that’s what. She
won’t tell me where she is.”

“At least you know she’s safe.”

I couldn’t argue his logic, but still, my
heart constricted so much it felt like it would implode. “Want
scotch?” I asked.

“I’m good with beer.”

“Okay, then,” I muttered and took a swig
from the bottle without bothering with a glass. The amber liquid
burned all the way down. I wanted to sleep, to calm down, and to
lose the sickening feeling that had taken root in my chest since
the night before. I was so tired now; I couldn’t fall asleep
unaided and I needed it. I stood there and downed three more big
swigs before taking it with me into the living room. I sprawled out
on the couch and flung my arm over my eyes, trying to concentrate
on the commentary from the game on television and praying for the
solace of sleep.

I felt like a walking zombie. Two days. 48
hours. That’s how long it’d been since I’d left New York, and
slightly longer since I’d seen Ryan. My heart and head ached as I
dropped my carry-on in the lavish hotel room. I had to hand it to
Meredith. She didn’t do anything half-assed. I fell on the bed in
exhaustion. I’d cried practically the entire flight, and now I was
completely spent. Thank God for the first class seat that meant
more privacy. I was grateful for the flight attendant’s discretion
when she brought me two glasses of white wine and a hot towel. I
refused the meal, my appetite completely nonexistent.

I felt empty and utterly alone. It was
self-imposed isolation, but it still hurt like hell. Ryan’s text
made it worse and broke my heart, but I guess I shouldn’t expect
his understanding when I left without even a note.

During the flight, my phone had to be off,
but after the last message, I deliberately turned it back off
before listening to the many voicemails he’d left. I didn’t want to
face the anger I was sure to hear in his tone, or the scathing
words of his messages. I’d left knowing full well it would hurt him
deeply, and he’d be mad as hell. Guilt, and something that hurt so
bad I couldn’t articulate it, filled my entire being. The pain was
soul-deep, physical, and debilitating. For the first time in
forever, I couldn’t reach for Ryan or call him and expect the
comfort I needed. I blamed myself for leaving, but I blamed him for
making it necessary.

My face crumpled and my chest seized as the
tears began again. I rolled onto my side and drew my knees up,
curling into a ball in hope to ease some of the pain, but it was
hopeless. “Oh, Ryan. Please, forgive me,” I cried, the sobs
starting to shake my shoulders. I let myself drown in my grief, my
right hand wrapped around the bracelet on my left wrist. I’d
considered leaving it behind, but I couldn’t make myself take it
off again. After Ryan’s impassioned forcing of it back in place,
there was no way I’d ever take it off again. I was mad at him and
hurt, but our souls were furled around each other as much as the
letters on the bracelet. It was a tangible link to him; a part of
both of us.

A few minutes later, I gathered the strength
to pull out the phone and turned it on, scared shitless of what I
would find, but desperate to hear his voice. There were 20 calls
from Ryan, three from my dad, two from my mom, four from Jenna, one
from Elyse and one from Ellie. Apparently, the cavalry was out in
force.

I was a coward. I snuck away without talking
to Ryan, knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave if I did. I needed to
clear my head, and get away from everything that brought Jane to
mind. Now, I was avoiding his calls. He would be hurt, pissed and
probably frantic. I knew my leaving would devastate him, and
still
, I left. The pain of living through more of that crap
seemed more unthinkable in that moment than hurting him. I was
going out of my mind.

My phone rang in my hand and I almost
dropped it, my heart beginning to pound so furiously I could feel
my pulse throbbing in my neck and ears.

My fingers trembled as I pushed connect.
“Hello?”

“Thank God, you finally answered! Julia!
Darling, we’re all so worried about you! Ryan is out of his mind.”
Elyse’s voice shook.

I closed my eyes against her words, against
the burning behind my already swollen eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said
weakly, trying hard not to let my voice crack. My stuffy nose would
give away that I’d been crying. “I just needed to get away for a
little while.”

“But, darling, without telling Ryan? This
isn’t like you.” Her voice was filled with understanding that I
didn’t deserve.

The tears spilled and rolled in fat drops,
one by one down my cheeks. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave if I
saw him first. He…” I tried to clear my throat, “he wouldn’t have
let me. I wouldn’t have been strong enough to walk away from
him.”

“Oh, honey. You need to call him. He’s so
upset. What’s this all about?”

“Didn’t he…” I stopped to clear my throat
“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Yes, but I want to hear your side of
it.”

I tried to breathe evenly; to calm the
erratic palpitation of my heart. “Ever since that night in the ER,
the woman that saved him… she’s chasing after Ryan with stars in
her eyes. She doesn’t give us a moment’s peace. She calls in the
middle of the night, pages him ten times a day, shows up at our
apartment unannounced, and then stays all evening!” My voice broke
on the words. “She’s like a cancer seeping into my life, and he’s
letting her, Elyse. I saw them kiss on New Year’s Eve at the Aids
Gala.”

She sighed heavily. “Yes, Ryan told me there
were issues, but he said it was nothing, and you’re making more of
it than it is.”

“It wasn’t nothing. She’s in love with him.
She told me afterward that she wanted him. She cornered me in the
bathroom when I went to get myself together.”

Elyse gasped. “What? Did you tell Ryan?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t believe that anything you say
wouldn’t hold weight with my son, Julia.”

“He knows she talked to me, but he never
asked for details. He closes his eyes when it comes to her. He
won’t see her as anything other than this saint who sacrificed
herself for him.”

“I know he feels grateful, Julia, but that
is all there is to it. You know how much he loves you.”

“I’m not saying that he’s cheating, but I
still feel betrayed and resentful. Then after, I feel guilty and
angry at myself because I owe Ryan’s life to her! I can’t stand
watching it, Elyse! I just needed a break so I can breathe again
and re-group. It wasn’t Ryan that I was trying to get away from.
But…” My voice broke on a sob. “I don’t see him much. He’s either
working or constantly dealing with her. When we are together, we’re
either making love or screaming at each other.” I flushed at my
confession.

“You have to call him, Julia. It’s not fair
to put Ryan through not knowing where you are.” She was soothing,
but I could hear that she was anxious and upset. “To let him
believe you’ve left him. You should have heard him when I called
him yesterday.”

“I texted that I was safe and I’d call soon.
He knows I could never leave him. Not really, Elyse.” I couldn’t
tell her that I couldn’t call during the hours I was in the
air.

Elyse’s voice took on a harder, motherly
tone. “Julia, how would you like it if he did this to you? Imagine
how you’d feel. All he knows is that you aren’t acting like
yourself, and he doesn’t have anything to hold on to. You need to
call him this instant!”

“Is he okay?” I choked out, pressing my
wrist to my mouth, tears rolling fatly down my cheeks.

“You know the answer to that. He’s insane
with worry, Julia, and it’s not fair.”

“Is it fair that he doesn’t set up any
boundaries with Jane? I feel like I’m the intruder, like I’m
interrupting
them
. How am I supposed to feel, for God’s
sake? He’s the only one that can fix it, and he just… won’t.” I
wiped at the hot tears streaming down my face again.

“I understand why you might feel that way,
but it’s unfair to say he hasn’t done anything about it. He said
he’s talked to her. You and Ryan will work this out. He loves you
more than anything, and I know you feel the same way.”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be dying inside if I didn’t
love him so much.” The words were soft, but with conviction.

“Ryan is dying with this, too. So, call him,
baby. Please.”

“When was the last time you spoke with
him?”

“Just the one time. He’s not answering
anymore, but Aaron is in New York with him, and he said Ryan’s a
mess.”

My hand clutched the material of my blouse
over my heart. “He’s probably so mad at me. It already hurts so
bad, I just…”

“Just call him.”

“Mmmm, huh,” I sniffed.

We talked for a few more minutes, and I
promised that I’d call Ryan as soon as I hung up the phone. I
pushed one on speed dial before I could change my mind. My heart
hammered so sickeningly, I felt it would burst out of my chest.
Ryan picked up after two rings.

“Julia?” I could hear the panic in his
voice, and it hurt. And he sounded utterly exhausted. “Where are
you?” he demanded. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. I wasn’t fine. I hadn’t
been fine for weeks. “I texted hours ago.”

“Anyone could have sent a text from your
phone. How was I to know someone hadn’t hurt you and had your
phone? I needed to hear your voice!”

My heart squeezed inside my chest and
plummeted to the pit of my stomach. I’d never thought of that. “I’m
sorry. From your response, it seemed you knew it was me. I didn’t
think you’d believe something bad happened to me.”

“No shit, you didn’t
think
!” he spat
angrily, and I winced.

“Look, I don’t want to talk if you’re just
going to yell at me.” I was exhausted and emotionally drained.

“What did you expect me to do?” he yelled
again. “Agghhhh! Tell me where you are! I’ll come to get you.” His
voice was thick, throbbing with anger and something else completely
indefinable.

“You can’t come. Just… I need some time.
Ryan, please. Just give me a little time,” I said again, praying he
would accept my plea and not press me. It was too much to hope
for.

“Why are you doing this to me? To us?”
Anguish practically dripped from his voice, and it killed me. It
was more than anger; he was hurt.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The words
ripped from me. Physically, my throat was aching, and emotionally,
I knew I was done.

He huffed into the phone. “Yeah,
right
! That’s why you ran off without a fucking word? Don’t
ask me to believe you give a flying fuck what you’d put me
through!” he ground out.

Tears squeezed from my closed eyes as I
struggled not to let out the sobs building up inside. “I told you I
didn’t think. I just had to get away. I can’t be in New York right
now. I’m sorry you’re hurting, but no more than me!”

“You left town? Are you in California with
Ellie?”

“I’m not in California.”

“Then, where are you? How in the hell am I
supposed to keep my head in the job like this?” Ryan demanded. I
pictured him pacing angrily around the apartment, just back from
the hospital, still in his scrubs. I was certain he was
exhausted.

My throat was swollen and I felt sick
inside. “
Your
job.
Your
life.
Your friend.
Your everything, right? I’m just an observer. Stuck on the outside
looking in.” I hated the crack in my voice, the weakness and
helplessness that held me prisoner.

“What exactly are you saying, Julia? Tell me
where the hell you are!
Right now
!” His breathing was hard;
I could hear the refrigerator door open and then slam over the
phone, with the clink of glass bottles hitting each other echoing
in the background.

I sucked in my breath and let my fury fly.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know why I left. “I’m saying that
while that woman is invading your every waking moment, as long as
you
let her
, I’m not coming home, Ryan, okay?” I yelled into
the phone, panting, my face crumpling in pain. “I can’t take it
anymore!” My chest was heaving, and I was shaking so much I almost
dropped the phone.

He sighed heavily. “This is getting so
fucking old. You know I was only trying to be a good friend and
nothing more! We talked about this!”

I rolled over again; a new wave of pain
threatening to drown me like the deepest ocean. That name was like
nails on a chalkboard. I was so fucking sick of hearing it. Jane
this, Jane that, poor Jane…
blah, blah, blah
! Maybe I was
being a bitch, but at that point, the pain overtook caring.