Page 15 of The Ruckup
So I take a deep breath, my earlier excitement fully extinguished. “I’m in the middle of a divorce.” I wince, afraid of his reaction. “A bad one.”
Leo’s jaw tightens more and more as I lay out the reality of the past few years of my life. The control. The abuse. The imbalance of power.
The fear.
The pain.
The loss of so many hopes. So many dreams.
So many parts of myself.
I want them back, and sitting here with Leo makes me think there’s a chance I might get them. Maybe one day I can be a normal person again. Not a victim. Not a statistic.
Just Maddie Miller.
When I’m done, I seal my lips together, watching Leo for any sign of what he’s thinking.
The seconds tick past as I wait to see if yet another person is going to judge me for what they think I should have known.
But when Leo speaks, it’s got nothing to do with judgment.
Reaching into one of the bags he left at his feet, he pulls out two tubs of frosting, passing one of them to me. “It makes sense now why you eat icing straight from the tub.”
My still sealed lips curve into a cautious smile. “It’s cheaper than therapy.”
Leo pops the lid off his indulgent treat before peeling away the foil seal. “I’m sure you already know this, but you should probably also talk to someone about everything.”
I understand what he’s saying, and I know I should look into it. But after years of worrying if I’m making everyone else happy, I’ve struggled to work up the nerve to confess my sins to a stranger. Even one who charges hourly. “I am talking to someone.” I try for a smile, hoping it will bring a little levity to the conversation. “I’m talking to you.”
Leo studies me for a second, then reaches out to open the frosting I still haven’t bothered with. He passes it back, the tips of his fingers brushing mine. “You can talk to me anytime, Maddie.”
6
We Didn’t Start the Fire
Leo
THE TREADMILL IN the home gym occupying my two car garage hums along, steady and unbothered, taunting me while I pant, sweat dripping down my face as I force myself to keep going. My lungs burn and my muscles ache, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
It might be the off-season, but I need to keep my shit up or I’ll die once training starts. Especially since I’ve been eating like a teenager over the past couple of days, making sure Maddie’s well-fed instead of snacking on pretzels and cottage cheese like she admitted was her norm. The sacrifice is worth it, but I need to remember I’m not eighteen anymore. It takes a hell of a lot more to burn through all those calories than it used to.
Glancing down at the timer, I decide an hour is enough misery for today. I slow to a jog, then a walk, hands on my hips as I pull in air and start to cool down. After a few minutes, I hop off and grab my towel, swiping it across my face as I go straight to where my phone sits on the weight bench, waking it up to check the time. After being able to spend pretty much the whole weekendwith Maddie—going over in the morning and heading home at night—having to wait until she gets off work is making me antsy.
Four fifty-nine. Close enough.
I unlock the screen and type out the text I’ve been waiting all day to send.
Hey. What are you up to?
I hit send without hesitation. Normally I’d try to play it at least a little cool, but what Maddie and I are building isn’t normal.
In a lot of ways.
We have a shared past, but there’s still a lot we don’t know about each other. We were friends all through school, but there was a gap of significant years where our lives went different directions. It’s like we’re catching up and laying a new foundation at the same time. Discovering who we are now, while also reminiscing about who we used to be.
And I’ve loved every second of it. Did my best to learn as much about Maddie as I could during our long—and chaste—conversations this weekend.
