“But we can talk later if you want.”
“Yeah maybe,” I say. She dries my makeup with a paper towel. It's not a total mess.
“I'll call your girl for a touch up.”
Laurie walks me back to set, and I shove the hurt as deep as it will go. I don't have to feel this. I don't have to feel anything if I don't want to.
By the time my makeup is finished, I am a blank slate, ready to lose myself in my lines and my character. Ready to lose myself forever.
Chapter 31
I don't go home. I go to the beach. It's freezing and the breeze is strong, much too strong for my jeans and T-shirt. But I deserve the goose bumps on my forearms. I slip out of my shoes and press my feet into the rough sand. I've been on this stupid beach so many times by myself, but it's never felt like this. I was always here to avoid my endless hours of solitude. I was always here to wait out the long stretch of time between Ryan leaving for work and Ryan coming home.
Things between us used to be better. Ryan was never sweet and gentle, but he was always supportive. He cared about me. And I cared about him. It wasn't love and it wasn't passionate, but it was something.
Look at me. Trying to blame Ryan for what I've done. Trying to blame Ryan for Luke leaving. God, they must both think I'm pathetic. Too weak to stay. Too weak to leave. Too weak to do anything but slip into my comfortable routine.
I am a coward. Luke knows it. That's why he…that's why he…Jesus. I can't think it. I can't let myself think it yet. I have to go home. I have to get through tonight, and maybe the weekend, and maybe the next week. And, maybe, if I get through enough weeks, I won't hurt anymore.
Maybe.
I'm stuck with Ryan. But I can't blame Luke, can I? Not when I am the one too weak and pathetic to leave Ryan. Maybe I can go back to Ryan tonight. Maybe things can go back to normal, how they used to be, when we had fun and did things besides sitting in the apartment.
The waves get louder. Mist hits my face. I dip my toes into the water and it's so fucking cold. But I deserve it. I deserve the cold. I unzip my jeans, throw them onto the sand, and take another step into the water. Fuck. It's so, so cold. I can barely feel my feet. But I take another step.
The water rises to my waist. I try to go further. I try to keep walking. I need to feel the pain I've caused. I need to hurt.
But, I'm still a coward.
I slink back to the car, shivering all the way.
***
Ryan is waiting for me at home. He sits at the kitchen table, still in his suit, going over a stack of papers. He wears a wounded look, but what else can I expect? I've ignored him the last few weeks. I've ignored everything except for work and Luke.
“Are you going to eat dinner with me today?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I'm starving. I had no time for a snack.”
“Order something. I don't feel like cooking.”
“What do you want?” I ask, trying to soften my tone. Ryan glances at me, his poker face fading for just a second.
“Whatever you're having,” he says. “I have a lot of work. If you're going to disappear into the spare room, do it now.”
“I want to sit with you,” I say. “I miss you.” It's mostly true. I miss the old Ryan. The Ryan who looked out for me.
“And to what do I owe this honor?” he asks, his eyes on his paper, his tone sharp.
“I said I miss you.”
“I heard you.”
“Are you okay?” I ask. It's a stupid question. Luke would answer with some sarcastic one-liner, and I'd try not to smile.
I order delivery from my phone. Ryan looks up from his paper, his expression unreadable. “Why don't you read or watch TV? I don't want you staring at me like that.”
I nod, and ignore another pang in my chest. I find my Kindle, sit