When Ryle reaches the front door of the building, he spins around and stabs me with a sharp glare. “I am a neurosurgeon. You work with flowers, Lily. Remember that before your lawyer does anything stupid to threaten my career. I pay for that fucking apartment you live in.” His threat is punctuated by his hands slamming open the door.
Lucy is the one to lock it after he finally leaves because I’m frozen from the impact of that last insult. She walks back to me and pulls me in for a sympathetic hug.
I realize in this moment that the hardest part about ending an abusive relationship is that you aren’t necessarily putting an end to the bad moments. The bad moments still rear their ugly heads every now and then. When you end an abusive relationship, it’s the good moments you put an end to.
In our marriage, the few terrifying incidents were blanketed by so many good ones, but now that our marriage is over, the blanket has lifted and all I’m left with are the worst pieces of him. Where our marriage was once full of heart and flesh that cushioned the skeleton, all that’s left is the skeleton now. Sharp, bony edges that slice right through me.
“You okay?” Lucy asks, smoothing her hands down my hair.
I nod. “Yeah, but… did it seem like he left here with a purpose? Like he was going somewhere else?”
Lucy’s eyes scan the door again. “Yeah, he peeled out of the parking lot pretty fast. Maybe you should warn Atlas.”
I immediately grab for my phone and call him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven Atlas
It’s only been half an hour since I checked my phone, so I’m alarmed when I see several missed calls and three texts from Lily.
Please call me.
I’m okay but Ryle is angry.
Did he show up there? Atlas, please call me.
Shit.
“Darin, can you take over?”
Darin moves to finish plating for me, and I immediately walk to my office and call her. Her phone goes straight to voice mail. I try her again. Nothing.
I’m preparing to head out back to my car when my phone finally rings. I answer immediately with, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says.
I stop rushing toward the door and lean my shoulder into a wall. I release a breath, my heart rate plummeting back to normal.
It sounds like she’s driving. “I’m going to pick up Emmy. I just wanted to warn you that he’s angry. I was worried he might show up there.”
“Thanks for the warning. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. Call me when you get home. I don’t care how late it is.”
Ryle bursts through the kitchen doors in the middle of her sentence. He makes enough of a ruckus that everyone notices and pauses what they’re doing. Derek, my head waiter, is right behind Ryle.
“I said I would get him,” Derek is saying to Ryle. Derek looks at me and throws up his hands to let me know he tried to prevent the intrusion.
“I’ll call you on my way home,” I say. I fail to mention Ryle just showed up. I don’t want her to be concerned. I end the call right as Ryle’s eyes land on me.
I don’t think he’s here to congratulate me.
“Who is that?” Darin asks.
“My biggest fan.” I nudge my head toward the back door, so Ryle starts walking in that direction.
The kitchen begins to buzz again, everyone ignoring Ryle’s intrusion. Everyone but Darin. “You need me to do something?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”
Ryle pushes open the back door so hard, it slams against the outside wall.
What a piece of work. I head in that direction, but as soon as I open the back door and walk onto the back steps, Ryle comes at me from the left. He knocks me off the steps, and then, when I try to stand up, he punches me.
It’s a good punch, too. I’ll give him that.
Fuck.
I wipe my mouth and stand up, thankful he’s at least giving me room to do that. It’s not really a fair advantage when one person is on the ground when the punching begins. But Ryle doesn’t seem like the type to play fair.
He’s about to hit me again, but I back up and he ends up tripping. He pushes off the ground, and when he’s back on his feet, he stares at me, fuming. He doesn’t seem to be in attack mode in the moment.
“You done?” I ask him.
He doesn’t respond, but I don’t think he’ll lunge for me again. Ryle straightens his shirt and smirks. “I liked it better when you fought back last time.”
I struggle not to roll my eyes. “I have no desire to fight you.”
He pops his neck and starts to pace. He has so much anger in him, I can’t imagine what this must be like for Lily when she has to witness it. He’s breathing heavily, his hands on his hips, his eyes piercing me like knives. I don’t just see anger in his expression. I see a hell of a lot of pain.
