But he’s right. It was a low point in both of our lives, but being with him was still somehow the highlight of my teenage years. I guess fun is the perfect way to describe what we made of it. And if we somehow had fun together at such a low point in both of our lives, it makes me wonder what we could be like at our highest.
It’s the exact opposite of the thoughts I had about Ryle last week. I’ve experienced the lowest of lows with Atlas, and he has never been anything but incredible and respectful to me. Yet, the man I chose to be my husband somehow disrespected me in ways no one deserves… all while we were at such a high point in our lives.
I’m grateful for Atlas because I know he’s the standard I now hold people to. He’s the standard I should have held Ryle to from the very beginning.
There’s a convenient gust of cold air that sweeps between us. It would be the perfect excuse for Atlas to pull me to him, but he doesn’t. Instead, the quietness builds between us until there’s only one thing left to do. Either kiss or say goodnight.
Atlas brushes a strand of my hair from my forehead. “I’m not going to kiss you yet.”
I hope my disappointment isn’t obvious, but I know it is. I practically deflate in front of him. “Is it my punishment for falling asleep?”
“Of course not. I’m just feeling inferior after reading about our first kiss.”
I sputter laughter. “Inferior to who? Yourself?”
He nods. “Teenage Atlas through your eyes was quite the charmer.”
“So is adult Atlas.”
He groans a little, like he already wants to change his mind about the kiss. The groan makes things feel a little more serious. He moves fluidly away from the car until he’s standing right in front of me. I press my back against my car door and look up at him, hoping he’s about to kiss the hell out of me.
“Also, you asked me to take things slow, so…”
Dammit. I did do that. I said very slow, if I remember correctly. I hate myself.
Atlas leans forward, and I close my eyes. I feel his breath scattering across my cheek right before he presses a quick kiss against the side of my head. “Goodnight, Lily.”
“Okay.”
Okay? Why did I say “okay”? I’m so flustered.
Atlas laughs softly. When I open my eyes, he’s backing away from me, heading to the driver’s side of his car. Before he leaves, he rests his arm on the roof of the car and says, “I hope you get some sleep tonight.”
I nod, but I don’t know if that’s going to be possible. I feel like every bit of caffeine I’ve consumed today has just kicked in all at once. I won’t be able to sleep after this date. I’m going to be thinking about the letter he let me read. And when I’m not thinking about that, I’m going to be replaying our first kiss in my head all night long, wondering what part two is going to feel like.
“Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming…”
The familiar sounds of Finding Nemo are coming from Allysa and Marshall’s living room when I open the door to their apartment.
When I pass by the kitchen, Marshall is standing in front of the refrigerator with both doors wide open. He nods a greeting, and I wave, but I don’t make small talk with him because I’m aching to hug Emerson.
When I enter the living room, I’m shocked to find Ryle on the sofa. He didn’t mention he would be off work tonight. Emerson is asleep on his chest, and Allysa is nowhere around.
“Hey.”
Ryle doesn’t look up to greet me, but he doesn’t have to look up for me to know something is bothering him. I can see the firm set of his jaw—a dead giveaway that he’s angry. I want to pick up Emerson, but she looks peaceful, so I leave her on Ryle’s chest. “How long has she been asleep?”
Ryle is still staring at the television, one of his hands protectively on Emmy’s back, the other behind his head. “Since this movie started.”
I recognize the scene, which lets me know it’s been about an hour.
Allysa finally walks into the room, breathing life into it. “Hey, Lily. I’m sorry she’s asleep; we tried so hard to keep her awake.” We give each other a two-second glance. She silently apologizes that Ryle is here. I silently tell her it’s okay. They’re siblings—I can’t expect him not to show up when he knows she’s babysitting his daughter.
Ryle motions for Allysa. “Can you put Emerson on her pallet? I need to talk to Lily.”
The curtness in his voice alarms both me and Allysa. We give each other another look as she pries Emerson off Ryle’s chest. The ache to hold her only grows wider as Allysa lays her on the pallet.
Ryle stands up, and for the first time since I walked in, he makes eye contact with me. He gives me a once-over, noticing the outfit and the heels I’m wearing. I can see the slow roll of his throat. He nudges his head upward, indicating he wants to speak to me on the rooftop balcony.
Whatever conversation this is, he wants complete privacy.
He exits the apartment to head to the roof, and I look toward Allysa for guidance. Once Ryle is out of earshot, she says, “I told him you had an event tonight.”
“Thanks.” Allysa swore she wouldn’t tell Ryle about my date, but I can’t figure out why he’s so angry if he doesn’t know where I’ve been. “Why is he upset?”
Allysa shrugs. “No idea. He seemed fine when he showed up an hour ago.”
I know better than anyone how Ryle can seem fine one second and absolutely the opposite of fine the next. But I usually know what’s setting him off.
Did he find out I went on a date? Did he find out it was with Atlas?
Once I’m on the roof, I locate Ryle leaning over the ledge, looking down. My stomach is already in knots. My heels click against the floor as I make my way over to him.
Ryle glances at me briefly. “You look… nice.” He says it in a way that makes it seem like an insult rather than a compliment. Or maybe that’s just my guilt.
“Thank you.” I lean against the ledge, waiting for him to speak up about whatever is bothering him.
“Did you just get back from a date?”
