“Get out,” she spat out angrily, her hand on the doorknob trembling.
Rick slowly walked out the door, shooting her a murderous expression. “You’re throwing everything away. Everything we worked so hard to get. You’re not so young anymore, and you’ve never been exactly beautiful. I was the most successful guy you were ever going to find.”
Ally slammed the door and bolted it, the wood hitting him in the ass on his way out the door. She just stood there for a moment, her whole body quaking with anger.
Why did his barbs still hurt? She didn’t feel anything but loathing for him anymore, but her mind was plagued with doubts.
You gained weight.
You never had time for me.
You’ve never been exactly beautiful.
I needed you. You never had time for me.
Rationally, she knew he was an asshole, but for some reason, his negative words still made her stomach roll.
One tear rolled down her cheek, and then another. And she wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Maybe it was because of the empty years she’d been with Rick, or maybe it was because of his manipulative comments meant to hurt her enough to take him back.
She sat on the couch, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. She’d gone from her verbally abusive alcoholic mother to Rick, and she could hear both of their voices in her head. Her mother hadn’t ever really had anything nice to say when she wasn’t in a comatose state, rambling on about how her father had died, leaving her with an unappreciative, ugly child to feed. Ally knew they were the ramblings of a bitter alcoholic, but they’d still shaped the way she felt about herself. And then she’d met Rick, and although he hid his criticism beneath a veneer of manipulation, his veiled disparagement had hurt just as badly.
Had she wanted to be loved so desperately that she’d been willing to take what Rick had to offer because it was better than nothing?
A strangled sob left Ally’s mouth, her tears falling more readily. Really, it all boiled down to the fact that she had wanted to be loved. “He never loved me,” she whispered in an anguished voice. “And I don’t think I ever loved him.” Rick had used her, and in a way, she’d used him, too. She’d wanted to fill the aching loneliness inside her, and she’d fooled herself into believing that if she worked hard enough, if she gave up enough for Rick, he’d love her. “I’m a stupid, stupid woman.” She hadn’t loved Rick either. She’d just convinced herself that she did because maybe he was right. Maybe she had felt he was the best she’d ever get or that he was all she deserved.
Ally was openly sobbing when the doorbell rang. Choking back her emotions, she hastily swiped her palms over her cheeks, trying to hide her tears.
Travis.
Any excitement she’d felt earlier about an evening with her boss had fled. She didn’t want to go out with him. She didn’t want to see anyone. All she needed was some time to get herself together again. Seeing Rick had left her a mess, emotionally vulnerable. There was no way she could face Travis right now. Her emotions were too close to the surface.
She went to the door, but she didn’t open it. Checking the peephole, she could see Travis’s face. “I have to cancel for tonight. I’m not feeling well,” she called through the door in the calmest voice possible. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you sick?” Travis’s low baritone sounded concerned. “Open the door, Alison.”
“Can’t. I might be contagious. I’ll call you when I’m feeling better.” Her voice trembled, and she cursed herself for allowing her anxiety to creep into her tone.
“You’re upset. Open the door now,” Travis demanded. “I’m not leaving until I see if you’re okay.”
Dammit. Why did Travis have to be so damned persistent? And stubborn! “Why can’t you just go away? I don’t want to see anyone right now.” Her desperation to get rid of him made her break her pretense of being ill.
“You’re not sick. You’re upset. Open the door or I’ll break a window,” Travis threatened ominously.
Problem was, Ally knew Travis never made empty threats, and the last thing she wanted was to replace a window. He’d do it without a thought. Part of her was angry because he was threatening her, but another part was touched because it appeared like he genuinely cared. None of this was Travis’s fault. The least she could do was face him, let him know she was okay.
After swiping a hand over her face one more time, she unbolted the door. If he was satisfied that she was fine, he’d go. She swung the door open and the worried expression on his face made her want to throw herself into his arms and cry until her emotions were spent. But instead, she turned her head and told him weakly, “I’m fine. I’ve had a bad day. I’m sorry you had to drive all the way over here.”