Page 57 of Hearts Colliding
“Let go of the illusion. It’s over with. Finished.” Alex pulled his arm free. He felt sick as invisible wires tightened around his head, but it was nothing to those squeezing and cutting into his heart.
"Please, don't say that,” Ryan whispered. "I swear, I had no idea that’s what they were planning. They said they wanted to make a noise—”
“They? Don’t you mean we?”
“I—yes. A final push. You’d have done the same, you said so. But getting the press involved, we never discussed that. For fuck’s sake, Alex, we got as far as talking about some of the grannies protesting outside the council offices. Nothing else, I swear. But don't you think it's maybe done us some good, that now we can be open—”
“There’s nothing to be open about.”
“I don’t believe that, and I don’t believe you do either.”
“Then you’re fooling yourself.”
Another flash of pain, another hammer smashing to his head. He needed the tablets, he needed to crawl into a corner and curl up, yet he couldn't move, the blows to his heart keeping him nailed to the spot.
"Whatever story you might have told yourself, there was never going to be some big happy ever after. I'm not staying here, and I’ve never pretended otherwise. Whatever the outcome of the application. I never had any intention of being chained to this place, by anything or anybody.” Alex stopped, pushing down the tremor rising in his voice. His anger had drained away, leaving only disappointment and overwhelming sadness in its place. "We had an expiration date, Ryan. It's just come around sooner than I thought.”
Stepping around Ryan, he opened the door. The reporter was gone and there was nothing outside other than hard sunlight burning into his brain. He gripped the old iron door handle to stop himself from crumpling to his knees.
“Alex—”
“No, Ryan. Please. I’ve got nothing more to say. I want you to go.”
“You're wrong, about what you think I've done and about us. We're more than the time limited, calculated arrangement you're doing your best to convince yourself we are. You've got to tell yourself something because you're angry and upset. But you're not the only one. I'll go, for now. You fight hard for what you want, but so do I.”
Alex closed the door behind Ryan. His legs began to shake and he fell back against it. Sliding down to the floor he hugged his knees to his chest, holding on tight, the only way he knew how to stop himself from falling apart.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
Blinded by burning tears, Ryan lurched across the gravel path, oblivious to everything except the pain drilling into his heart.
“Ryan.”
He turned around, and a hard shove in his chest sent him stumbling backwards.
"Dec? What are you—”
"So this is where you've been creeping off to, is it? Cosy pizzas for two, and I can imagine what else. Indulging in a bit — of — pillow talk — as well?" Ryan staggered back with each one of Declan’s blows.
Ryan knocked his arm aside. “Lay off. It’s got nothing to do with you why I'm here." He swallowed his cringe. The words tasted like the lie they were. If their positions were reversed, he'd be doing a lot more than shoving.
Ryan didn't see the punch coming. Sprawled out on the ground, he blinked up into the blue sky. Something warm and metallic dripped into his mouth, and it was only then that his face began to throb with pain as he tasted his own blood.
“You deserved that, don’t tell me you didn’t.” Looming above him, Declan’s face scrunched in anger, shock, and regret. He threw his arms up into the air before letting them drop to his side. “What the fuck, Ryan? What did you think you were playing at?”
“What's going on here? Ryan! Declan!” Eva emerged from behind a clump of overgrown shrubs and rushed over to him, with Joss at her heels.
“It’s all right, I’m okay.” Ryan pushed himself to his feet, touched his bloodied nose and winced. A grim-faced Joss thrust a paper hanky into his hand, the blood pouring from his nose drenching it in seconds.
“Let me take a look.”
Ryan let his nan fuss over him, any strength and energy he had left seeping out of him like the blood from his throbbing nose.
“Bruised, not broken. We’ll get some ice on it when we’re home. Declan, you had no right to do that," Eva glanced at Declan, who’d taken a few steps back. He stared down at his feet, his shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
Ryan wasn't sure she was right.
“Maybe, maybe not. But he's got some explaining to do.”
