Page 61 of It Never Was

I don't want to be touched.

"I am behind on my schoolwork and this professor already doesn't like me." I give her a side eye, "adding you to the mix probably wouldn't help my case."

"Alright…so I can just walk you to campus. It's not every day I get to leave early from work at the same time as you."

Paul had told Willow to take the rest of the day off because we were 'slow'. I know his real agenda. He wants Willow to stay by my side to babysit, regardless of the chaos the pumpkin spice heads are making with them coming in left and right for their next high.

"It's really okay Willow. I am fine." I grabbed the till turning to walk back to Paul's office.

"Ryen." Willow's words are rushed as she follows me like a duckling chasing after their Mama. But then her hand grabs my forearm, I jolt back. It was a soft touch, but it was unexpected. My throat starts to tighten, and my breath picks up. I can feel myself breathing faster but it doesn't feel like I am getting any air in. Sometimes touches are bearable, but other times they hit me right in the temple and cause my head to spin out of control. It was like Russian roulette. I never knew which it would be. Willow takes a small step back, eyes wide looking over me intensely. "Rye, this doesn't look 'fine' or 'okay'."

"Willow, I know you think all of this," I gesture my hands in the air to the shape of her, my breath still labored, "following me around, asking me a million times if I am okay, trying to make small talk when I am quiet, pushing me to open up about things I—." I tell out a rough sigh, still trying to let my breath steady, "It's not helping Willow."

I zero in on that dull ache in my chest, absentmindedly pressing my fist to the spot, rubbing it. The pain grows and I can't tell if I am trying to ease the pain or feel it more. Her eyes hone in on the motion. We stand there for a second longer, but Willow doesn't say anything else. Only when she lowers her head do I turn back down the hallway, leaving Willow where she stands.

I know she loves me and wants to be there for me.

But I didn't want to be saved.

33

Parker

She has been on auto pilot ever since that fucking creep, low life piece of shit Devon, now I know his name, was here. I now knew where her bruises came from. For Ryen's sake, at that moment, I bit my tongue and kept my fists to a minimum even in the haze of red.

Paul kept the moment we had that morning to himself, he didn't say it, but I think he knew Devon deserved what he got.

Ryen didn't need to know that detail about fuckface Devon. That was her boyfriend? Or ex-boyfriend?

I selfishly hoped for the second.

Whichever it was, Ryen hasn't been the same since. I watched the dim flicker of light in her eyes die out.

To a stranger she was fine, coasting along her shifts, smiling when appropriate, but to people who knew her, or cared about her they knew something was wrong.

Paul has asked me several times to tell him what happened, but I didn't know what to say exactly. It's not really my story to tell, and I didn't want to break Ryen more than she already was.

Ryen told him just that Devon came to see her at work, but the shop was closed, and he wasn't supposed to be here. They got into an argument, and he left. She didn't mention the way he touched her, like she was a thing he owned, like he was able to use and abuse her in whatever way pleased him. Like his own personal little play doll. She didn't tell him about how I came between them or the breakdown she had in the walk-in moments later.

That scream she let out.

I won't ever be able to erase it from my memory, every time I remember my heart aches a little more.

Something died in her that day.

Ever since you can see the invisible protective layer covering her. Protecting her from others, herself, and that moment with fuckface Devon.

What I needed to do was help her glue the shards of herself back together. I didn't want to let her sit in this darkness so long that she wouldn't be able to find her way out. But…I also knew what was more important. To give her time. Time is what is necessary.

I know from what I saw it was mild in comparison to what I can only imagine has been happening when they are alone. How long has she been with him? All these things contributed to how much she needed to heal.

She was shutting everyone out. I saw the way Willow and Paul tried to inch closer, trying to scratch the surface of the barrier she put around herself. But they had no luck. I have only given her space. I wanted to not break the surface but caress it, let it know I was there to help in any way. It didn't need to be shattered, it needed to be healed.

I have let her have her silence, but I didn't stop caring for her in the small ways. Meeting her in the parking lot, pouring her fresh coffee when she was zoned out, staring at her computer screen in the lobby, helping her grab the items she needs from the walk-in or top shelves. Not big things, small things. It was still too soon for the big things, but I craved to do the big ticket items for her.

Did that role belong to me?

I didn't know how to categorize my relationship with Ryen. All I knew was the moment I saw her watch Devon leave the coffee shop. The small fire she had left in her eyes vanished. The minute I heard that gut wrenching shriek break through the thickness of the walk-in walls, it took all my inner strength and sheer willpower to not rip open that metal door that separated us and engulf her with my embrace. Wanting to take the pain and sorrow I knew consumed her heart and soul.

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