Page 20 of It Never Was

9

Ryen

By the time my body hit my bed the tears wouldn't stop. I didn't even bother to turn on the lights. I curl up in a ball, reliving how Devon pushed me to the ground like I was nothing, the smell of whiskey on his breath still lingering in my nose. His voice was cold and full of venom ringing in my ears. The chill of the room does not even bother me as I try to catch my breath between sobs. My mind is still racing to try to come up with a reason for what happened.

I know Devon can get paranoid and he is worried that he is not good enough for me, but I have always tried to reassure him that I would never leave him. He gets so angry nowadays when I don't reply right away or answer his calls. He automatically thinks the worst, like I am with another guy, or I am mad and thinking about breaking up with him. I have tried everything to make him not feel this way, to reassure him as much as humanly possible. But it feels like the more I try to help, the worse he gets.

The pain in my arm returns and I wish I had gotten some ice from the freezer before coming upstairs. There is no ounce of motivation in me to go back down those steps. I turn over in bed and reach for my bag that I dropped on the floor before slumping into bed. Digging through my bag to find my bottle of ibuprofen, my phone lights up, filling my bag with light and revealing the location of the medicine bottle. I grab my phone in hopes that it is Devon, but instead, it is an incoming call from Willow. I answered the call, needing to hear my best friend's voice. Setting the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I open the bottle of ibuprofen.

"How was your day, girl? I did not get a chance to ask you who that hunk of a man was that you interviewed today!?" Willow's voice is bright as ever through the phone, and it makes me smile.

"My day was okay," I say, taking two pills into my mouth and swallowing them dry, not answering her question.

"What's wrong?" Her voice is firm.

"What? All I said was my day was okay," I say trying to sound like I haven't been having a full-on mental breakdown for the past hour.

"Yeah, but you said it in your 'something is wrong, but I don't want to talk about it' voice. And as your best friend, you must talk about it with me, so what is wrong?" she says proudly, knowing she knows me all too well.

"Fine…" I let out a breath. "Devon and I had another fight is all."

"Again? Why is this becoming a more and more frequent thing in your relationship? What is he on about now?" she says with frustration in her voice.

I know that what she is saying is true. Devon and I have been having more arguments lately than good moments. I wish I had a reason as to why this is, but I don't. I am just as perplexed about this as Willow. I used to know what would get under Devon's skin or make him upset, and this made it easier to avoid arguments. Now it is as if everything sets him off. I feel like I am walking on eggshells, a minefield that no matter where I step sets off an argument with him. It is exhausting, to say the least, but I love him, and whatever he is going through I want to be there for him.

"He just thought I was lying to him about where I was tonight," I say dryly, not saying anything about the way he talked or touched me.

"When have you ever lied to him? This guy is just trying to pick fights lately I swear. Did you set him straight?" she asks between the sounds of her crunching on chips or popcorn.

"Yeah, I told him I was in class, but he said I wasn't back to my car at the shop on time, so I must be lying." My voice comes out irritated by the memory of him not believing me, still leaving out the details of how aggressive he got with me tonight. I am too embarrassed to bring it up, and I don't want her to worry. "He said I must have been with another guy. I tried to tell him that wasn't true, but his friends showed up and he left for a party with them." My voice grows louder, "I don't understand, Willow. Why does he think I would do something like that to him?" I ask, genuinely needing an answer.

"Honestly?" she asks.

"Of course!"

"Because he knows you are too good for him!" she firmly states.

"I am not too good for him, Willow. He is just going through a lot with his parents on his back about his job and life," I try to defend him.

"Rye, you wanted honesty, and I am here to give you honesty. He is making this relationship toxic. He has been for years now. I know you love him and everything, but no matter what he is going through, he does not have a right to be the way he is with you. There is no excuse." I can hear the despair in her voice.

Willow has been telling me this for two years now, ever since Devon has gotten worse and more paranoid about me cheating on him or breaking up with him. I can't help but love him through it all. We have been together for five years. How can I just give up on him now?

"I know he shouldn't talk to me this way. I am going to have a conversation about it next time I see him." My head lays back on my mountains of pillows. My puffy eyelids get heavier, and drowsiness from my crying settles into my body.

"Words don't seem to be working with him, Rye." Her words sound like pleas.

"They will," I say, letting out a yawn. "I just have to make him see how serious I am."

"If you say so…" Willow's voice fades out. "On a lighter note…you never answered me about the sexy ass man that you and Paul interviewed today." Her voice sounds more playful. I mentally thank her for changing the subject away from Devon, but I am not sure Parker is a better topic right now.

"Who do you mean?" The heat rises to my cheeks again as I close my eyes and pull my blanket over myself, picturing the gorgeous grin and smoky eyes.

"Who my ass, he was looking at you like you were the freshly baked pastry!" Willow squeals while the crunch of her late-night snack returns.

"His name is Parker, and no he was not!" My eyes widen to stare at the window across my room.

"That's not what Chrissy and I saw," she teases.

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