Chapter 53 053
RYAN
“Emily?”
She stopped moving and let out a tired sigh. The sound carried more weight than anger. It sounded like defeat.
“What?” she asked. “Now you’re not interested in the sex again?”
I felt the words hit me harder than I expected. I sighed too. Deep. Slow. The kind of sigh that came from my chest, not my mouth. Before she could step away or build another wall between us, I reached for her and pulled her into a hug.
Her body went stiff for a second. Just one. Then it softened. Melted. Like it remembered exactly how we used to fit together. Like it had been waiting for this without admitting it.
I held her tight. Tighter than I meant to. My chin rested on the top of her head, and I breathed her in. She still smelled the same.
“I want you too, Em,” I murmured into her hair. My voice was low, tired, and honest. “But I can’t betray the girl I’m with right now. It feels wrong. It feels unlike me.”
She scoffed against my chest. I felt it more than I heard it.
“But so like me, yeah?” she said bitterly.
I shook my head. “Don’t take it that way.”
She pulled back just enough to look up at me. Her eyes were red. Her lashes were wet. She looked hurt and angry and exhausted all at once. But beneath all of that was something softer. Something that still hoped.
“I don’t know how many more times you want me to say it,” she said, her voice shaking now. “But I’m sorry, Ry. I’m sorry I was with another man while we were still married. I’m sorry I cheated. I’m sorry I made it look like I can run off at any given opportunity.”
She swallowed hard and kept going before I could interrupt.
“But I am not sorry for our little girl. The one we had because of that night. I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I’m not expecting you to love me again all of a sudden. But please… please don’t punish me by pushing that girl in my face.”
Her voice broke.
“And please tell your mum to back off. I can’t… I can’t lose my daughter because of your mother’s hatred for me, Ry. I can’t.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks freely now. She didn’t even try to stop them.
I stared at her. My chest hurt so badly I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly. The pain sat right in the middle of me, heavy and sharp.
“Did my mother bring up the custody stuff again?” I asked quietly.
She nodded. “She called immediately after I left your place. I’m letting you people see your daughter. I am not keeping her from you. But please don’t make things difficult for me.”
I stepped back and ran a hand over my face. I felt tired all of a sudden. Bone tired.
“I understand,” I said.
She nodded and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Thank you.”
I nodded back.
For a second, neither of us said anything. The silence felt thick. Heavy. Like there was too much between us to fit into words.
Then, I turned and moved toward the door.
My hand was already on the handle when I stopped.
“I’m sorry…” I said softly.
She looked up. “For what?”
I swallowed. “If I had given you enough attention, you wouldn’t have looked at someone else.”
Her head snapped up. She shook it fast. “No. No, Ry. That was not your fault. Please don’t do that. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
I nodded slowly. She was right. I knew she was. Still, the guilt stayed.
“I’ll talk to Mom,” I said.
Her shoulders dropped a little, like some of the tension left her body. She gave me a small, tired smile. “Okay. Thanks.”
I nodded once more.
Then I left.
The night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside. Cool. Sharp. I welcomed it. I needed something to cut through the noise in my head.
I didn’t go home.
I headed straight to Aaron’s club.
I knew I was going to let loose. I knew I was going to drink. And the best place to do that was somewhere I knew someone would look out for me if I went too far.
The music hit me the moment I walked in. Loud. Heavy. Bass shaking the floor beneath my feet. Lights flashed in different colors. People moved like nothing in the world mattered.
My favorite bartender, DJ, was working tonight. He saw me the moment I walked in and grinned wide.
“Hey, my man!” he shouted over the music.
I gave him a small smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.
“Something strong,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Long day?”
“You have no idea,” I replied.
He nodded. “Say less.”
I leaned against the bar and watched him work. He moved fast. Confident. Like he knew exactly what he was doing. A few minutes later, he slid a glass toward me.
The drink was dark. Smoky. It looked super strong.
I picked it up and took it all in one go.
The burn was instant. It hit my throat and chest like fire. I welcomed it. It distracted me from everything else.
“Another,” I said, setting the empty glass down.
DJ didn’t question it. He poured another and slid it over.
I drank that one just as fast.
“Another.”
This time, he hesitated. “Erm… Mr. Thompson…”
I raised my hand before he could finish. “Another one, please.”
He studied my face for a second. Then he poured.
I kept drinking.
One glass turned into two. Two turned into three. I stopped counting after that.
The room started to tilt. The lights blurred together. The music became a dull roar instead of sharp noise.
The ache in my chest dulled too. It didn’t disappear, but it softened. Like it was wrapped in cotton.
I thought about Emily. About her tears. About our daughter. About my mother. About the how unfair everything felt.
I drank more.
Until my thoughts slowed.
Until my body felt heavy.
Until the pain turned distant.
Until I was drunk out of my mind.