This Time Around(10)

“All right,” she says, blowing me a kiss before walking out. I hear the door lock behind her, making me realise I’m now officially alone with my soon-to-be ex-husband. He must realise it too, because he starts to chuckle softly.

“Want to go out for dinner?” he suddenly asks, after a few seconds of silence. He studies me, anticipating my answer.

“No, thanks, maybe next time,” I tell him.

Like when hell freezes over.

“It’s just a meal,” he says, raising an eyebrow, almost daring me.

“I know that,” I say slowly, enunciating each word.

“Then why are you looking like I asked you if you wanted to have sex.”

“I’m not,” I say quickly, looking down at my black coated nails.

“What are you going to have for dinner then?” he asks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The action tightens his T-shirt along his broad chest, and shows off his biceps. It takes all my will power to look away.

“I’ll fix myself something. Don’t worry about me, Ryan.” Like he hasn’t for the past year or so.

“So you learned to cook over in South Africa then?” he asks, smirking at me.

“I might have,” I say defensively, sitting up straighter.

“So you can make something other than toast and two minute noodles then?” he asks, doubt evident in his voice.

“Of course I can,” I say. I can now fry eggs. So I’m not housewife material, sue me.

“What can you make?” he asks nosily. He’s always had an issue with boundaries.

“Lots of things,” I lie.

“Such as?” he pries, his eyes dancing with amusement. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. He knows I can’t cook for shit.

“I really don’t think I need to prove myself to you,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

He flashed me a megawatt smile. “Do you want me to make you something?”

“Ryan. I’m fine, really.”

“Don’t be so stubborn, Tay,” he says, shaking his head.

Tay.

He used to call me that.

No other woman will ever compare to you, Tay. You’re all I see.

I instantly stand up, the pillow that was next to me flying on the floor.

“Okay, you need to go,” I say, feeling slightly shaken by the memory.

He stands slowly, but looks confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I just… have some things I need to do. I’ll see you around, okay?” I tell him, glancing towards my room door longingly.

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and puffs out a breath. “Yeah okay. Sure.” He forces a smile, before turning and walking to and then out the door. I lock it behind him, leaning my back against the door and sliding down it, until I’m sitting on the floor.

Only then do I allow the tears to fall.





Chapter Five

Ryan

I rest my head against the door listening to her cry. Each sob rips a hole in my heart, each tear lies on my conscience. Instead of walking away and trying to clear my head, I stand there and punish myself by listening to her, because I know I deserve it. She’s hurting. I’m hurting. This whole thing is fucked up. We need each other. I just wish she could see it. I could be there for her again, if she’d let me. I want to bang my head against the door, but then she would know I’m still here, standing in front of her door like a fucking creeper. I lift my hand to knock on the door, to beg her to let me comfort her, to hold her in my arms. I pull back my hand before it connects with the door, and instead pull at the ends of my hair, and squeeze my eyes shut. I put my hand in my pocket, fingering my wedding ring. It’s on me, where I always keep it. I may not wear it, only because it didn’t feel right when I was with other women. I slide the ring back on my finger. When I hear her move away from the door, only then do I do the same.

*****

The next day, I get off my black Harley Fat Boy, and walk into the crowded bar, nodding and smiling along the way at the familiar faces.

“‘Bout time you got here,” Tag says, throwing a tea towel at my head. I catch it with one hand, grinning at him.

“Isn’t Summer meant to be here?” I ask, frowning as I look around.

“She’s running late,” Tag says, running his hand over his shaved head.

“Did she call in?”

“Reid called in for her,” he says, his lips twitching in amusement. “The perks of screwing the boss, eh?” he jokes. A woman walks up to the bar and Tag leans in to hear her order. I chuckle when she flirtatiously pulls at his goatee. He hates that, I know he does, but I don’t know why. He gently untangles the woman’s fingers and starts to make her drink. I see Rachel walk up to me, a girl I once spent the weekend with. Summer always tells me I have a type, and going by what she says, I guess Rachel would be it. She has a curvy figure, long hair and bedroom eyes.