Shallow River

His name flashes across my phone for the millionth time. Another incoming call. Before I can stop myself, I snatch up the phone and click the green button.

“Hello?”

A moment of silence, and then a sniffle. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer.” He sounds pitiful, his voice downtrodden and full of shame.

“I wasn’t expecting you to leave me in a puddle of piss, but I guess shit happens, Ryan. Why are you holding a fucking gun to your head? What is wrong with you?” My voice is full of anger. I didn’t expect the anger to hit me so suddenly and so hard. But the moment I heard his voice through the receiver, all I felt was raw agony from his actions.

“Because I can’t live without you, River! How many times do I have to say that? Look, I am so sorry, River. I miss you so much, and I’m so ashamed of the way I acted. You’re injured and it wasn’t the right time.”

I smile, though not from humor. “When is the right time?”

He trips over his words. “What do you mean?”

“You said it wasn’t the right time. So, tell me Ryan, when is the right time to beat your girlfriend?”

“There is no right time, that’s not what I meant,” he snaps, growing defensive. Ah, so he doesn’t like to be called out on hitting me? And I thought I ran from my problems.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant, I should’ve handled it better. But, River, I was angry you put yourself in that situation. I’ve told you to stop going there. It’s dangerous and this is what happens. Can you blame me for being upset that you continue to walk into a dangerous house every month? Where you were raped and abused? This was bound to happen. And you lied to me, and you’re still lying about who hurt you. You’re protecting them.”

“I’m not protecting them,” I snap. “I’m protecting everyone else. You’re right, there are dangerous people in Shallow Hill. And my ghosts caught up with me, but I’m not about to let them haunt anyone else’s life.”

“My dad is a lawyer, I’m a lawyer. I could put them away for life,” he argues.

I shake my head, frustration bubbling inside me. He doesn’t understand. He won’t ever understand. He’s a privileged boy that grew up with loving parents in a beautiful house. He has always gotten his way.

But he won’t get his way this time.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice on the edge of desperation. “I just love you so fucking much, River. More than anyone I’ve ever been with. I’ve never felt this way about any of them, so this is… this is new to me, okay? I am so fucking scared of losing you. And that night… it was like watching my worst nightmare come to life. I freaked. I treated you horribly. I fucked everything up, and I’m so fucking sorry for that.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, right along with my resolve.

My shoulders deflate. Why does it hurt so bad hearing him hurt? He doesn’t hurt when I hurt. I grit my hair and pull, so frustrated with the effect Ryan has on me. It’s like a riptide—every time I think I’m going to pull myself out and free myself, he’s right there to pull me back under. Drowning and suffocating me. It’s so exhausting fighting him. I just want to go back to where we were before I went to Shallow Hill. We were so fucking happy, and god, do I want that back again.

“River, can we just… can you please come home so we can talk?”

I feel myself starting to slip. He hit me. He hurt me. He left me. He did so many bad things to me. But I think about the picture of him holding a gun to his head, the crazed gleam in his eye. He’s hurting, too. And maybe this time, he’s actually fucking sorry. I’ve never actually left him before. Maybe this time he took me seriously and will change.

“Please?” he begs when I still don’t answer. “I just want to talk to you. See you how you’re doing and if you’re okay. I promise we’ll just talk. I won’t even touch you if you don’t want me to.”

I sigh. We do have a lot to talk about. I’ve put more effort into this relationship than I ever had with anyone else. All the other men I’ve entertained were just that—entertainment. I never felt the things Ryan makes me feel.

It’s pretty clear Ryan has issues, but maybe if he opens up to me better and we establish healthy coping mechanisms for his anger, we can fix this. That’s what I’ve learned in my studies. Coping mechanisms. Finding what triggers him and learning how to handle it in a healthy way.

Aside from that, all my belongings are the

re. I’ve been wearing Mako’s oversized clothes for the past week, and I’ve caught him giving me a few heated glances when he thought I wasn’t looking. They sent a thrill straight through my bloodstream and disgusted me all at once.

“Come on, just a couple weeks ago we were so happy. The way I made you laugh. How hard I made you come—"

“Fine,” I interrupt, already feeling myself weakening to those memories. I have to admit, most of the last two years together have been absolute bliss. “I’ll come home. But if I start to feel scared in any way, I’ll have the police on speed dial.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that’s a sentence I should never have to say to my boyfriend. But I don’t have fucking room to talk, though. Look at where I came from. Everyone has demons, and I love Ryan enough to try to help him fight those demons.

He sighs in a relief, and I can feel his smile through the phone. “Okay, baby. I’ll be here waiting.” That word again. Baby. It feels different coming out of Ryan’s mouth. Like familiarity and comfort. With Mako, it feels… thrilling. Like touching a livewire. I think I’ve had enough thrills to last me a lifetime, now’s the time where I settle down and relish in comfort.

I hang up the phone and immediately open up my Uber app. Mako’s at work so I don’t have to worry about sneaking out.

I dress back into my pajamas that Mako packed for me, collect the few things I had here in a grocery bag and am sliding into the back of the Uber within fifteen minutes.