When Jase leaves, Kimber takes me into her room, and I crawl into her bed. I tell her I can smell Ryan on my sheets, and she goes into my room, grabs all of my bedding, and tosses a load into the washer. When she comes back, she lies down with me like we used to do and pulls the sheets over us, hugging me from behind. I've missed this, having her, my best friend, my sister.
Chapter thirty-eight
These past two weeks have been such a daze. I'm miserable. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I try to keep myself consumed with school, but I can't even focus. Ryan calls me every day, and each time he does, it's just a reminder of how alone I am. I can't even read his texts. I delete them as soon as they come through. When Jase went over there to get my belongings last week, he came back and suggested that I talk to Ryan. But I know there is nothing he could possibly say to lessen this pain. I gave him everything I had to give. I bared it all to him, and the whole time he was lying to me. I feel so betrayed and so used. And the most sickening part of it all is that I still love him. I hate myself for that. I don't know what's wrong with me; I don't understand how I can still feel this way about him after everything.
Mark and Jase still talk to him and see him. I told them that I understand. After all, Mark's band plays at his bar. I can't expect them to not be his friend. But I've been keeping my distance from them because I can't help but feel hurt at the same time.
When Roxy kept asking about Ryan and why she hadn't seen him around, I just didn't have the energy to deal with it, so I quit. I know it was a total overreaction, but all I really want to do is escape from everything. I'm trying hard to be strong and put the pieces back together, but Ryan didn't leave me with pieces—he left me with ashes.
Since I no longer have anything aside from dance to distract me on the weekends, I'm home alone most of the time. Kimber is at her parents' this weekend. She wanted me to come with her, but just the thought of pretending to be happy around her family was enough to exhaust me. Jase called earlier to try and get me out of the house, but I told him I wasn't feeling well. I know he didn't believe me, but I don't care.
He's worried that I'm not taking care of myself, and I guess he should be. I know I look awful. It's only been two weeks and my clothes are all loose on me, but I can't rid my stomach of the knots that consume it. Ms. Emerson has been riding my ass again, and I know I need to pull it together and quick because our production is a mere two weeks away.
When the doorbell rings, I drag myself to the door. I look out the living room window, and I can't swallow against the lump in my throat when I see Ryan's black Rubicon. Leaning my head against the door, I say, "Go away."
"You won't return any of my calls, babe. Please, let me talk to you."
I turn away and start walking back to my room when I hear a key slide into the lock and then the door opening.
Snapping back to face the door, I yell, "What are you doing?!"
"Jase gave me a key."
"Ass," I mumble under my breath. "Ryan, please go. I don't want to talk."
"I can't not talk to you. It's killing me."
"It's killing you? What about me?" I can barely get the words out over the sob that starts to threaten. "Ryan, I can't do this. I can't even look at you. Please, just go."
"I can't stand to see you like this."
"Then go! I will do almost anything to make you leave."
"Just let me talk to you. Please, babe, just let me talk."
"Fine, say whatever you need to say, then leave me alone."
He motions for me to sit on the couch and when I do, he sits next to me. I can't control the tears that free fall down my cheeks. Seeing his face and being next to him is too much for me. If I had never loved him so much, then he never would have had the power to destroy me like he did. More than anything, I want to cling to him, but I don't. I know I can't ever allow anyone to get that close to me again. I can't give another person the power to hurt me like he did.
"I'm worried about you," he says as he looks me in the eyes.
I turn my head so I don't have to look at him. "Don't."
"When was the last time you've eaten?"
"Ryan, don't. Just say what you need to say."
He reaches for my hand, but I pull it away as he says, "I love you. I know you don't believe me, but I do. No one has ever affected me the way you do, babe. I swear to you...I swear I didn't know. I didn't, Candace. Not at first." When I hear his voice crack, I look up at him and see the tears that fill his eyes, and I have to look back down.
"When I saw you at the coffee shop I thought it was you. I thought you were that girl. But then I kept thinking, 'What are the chances?' I didn't know because you looked so different than from that night. And then I found out that you were friends with Mark. Every time I saw you, I felt myself being drawn to you in a way I've never felt before. I had myself convinced that my head was playing games with me, and I honestly did not think you were that girl. It wasn't until I saw your tattoo when we were in bed. That's when I knew. When I found that girl, I saw her tattoo—your tattoo."
"Ryan, please," I whimper, but he doesn't stop.
"When I saw it, I broke. I didn't want you to be her. I had already fallen so hard in love with you and realizing that it was you f**kin' killed me. Everything started making sense to me. How scared you always were with me when we first met, how afraid you were when I tried to touch you. Everything made sense. But, I didn't know how to tell you. And then you told me you loved me, and I know how hard that was for you. I just couldn't hurt you," he says, now crying.