heading home
Ryan: I’m still at work
Me: How much longer?
Ryan: Not sure. I’ll call
I look at my computer and groan, because
it’s almost six thirty. I’m drained, annoyed and now pissed at Ryan. He’s still
here, and already I feel alone. I didn’t move out here and agree to marry him,
just to wind up by myself. This day has dragged, but most likely it feels
that way because I am eager to get home.
Me: Don’t bother
Why am I being such a bitch?
I clean up my desk and grab a stack of
things to take home with me before shutting everything down. Just as I walk out
of the office my phone rings and I look to see it’s Ryan and roll my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” he stumbles over his words. “Everything
okay?”
“No, Ryan,” I snap back, “I’m not. You
leave in four days but you have to work late.”
“Don’t you think I’d rather be home with
you?”
“I don’t know what to think. We just
picked out your new home for the next year, you’re closing up things at work,
and I’m busy. I’m just not sure when we’ll get to spend any time together
before you leave. Before you know it, Friday will be here and we’ll have missed
out.”
“Em-”
“No. You know what? Don’t worry about it.
I’ll just see you when you get home.” I don’t wait for him to say anything else.
I hang up and stuff my phone into my purse and storm out to my car to head
home.
The entire drive home, I go between
sniffling like a child to getting fired up over Ryan leaving. By the time I
pull into my parking spot, I’m finally calm and feel like maybe I’ll just go to
sleep and put a nail in this day. To my surprise, those ideas are put on hold
because when I open the door to let myself in, Ryan is leaning against the back
of the couch, staring at me.
I’m trying too hard to keep my composure,
so I walk to the counter and place my purse on one of the two barstools and
turn to face him. I'm unsure whether to walk over and hug him or to stand back
and wait for him. But before I can decide one way or the other, Ryan pushes to
his feet and walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me
close. I bury my head in his chest and I am crumbling all over again. The pain
of him leaving consumes me and I begin crying inconsolably. I wrap my arms
around him, holding tight, as though my grasp alone can keep him here.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers into my
hair.
“I’m morry, moo,” I answer muffled into
his chest between sobs. He chuckles and loosens his grip.
“What?”
I look up at his face, take a deep breath
and clarify, “I said, ‘I’m sorry, too.’”
He runs his thumb across my cheek, wiping
a stray tear and leans down to kiss me. This single act has the tears escaping
all over again, so he takes my hand and urges me to sit on the couch with him,
“I already ordered from the Chinese restaurant you like, it should be here in a
bit. So we have time to talk.”
I look at him with a questioning eye. “You
think all of our problems are going to be solved in twenty minutes, Ry?”
“No, but we can at least start. Unless
you want to do something else with those twenty minutes,” he teases.
“You give yourself too much credit,” I
joke, and the laugh he releases causes a smile to finally appear on my face. He
leans into the cushions, pulls my back to his chest and holds me close. I hear
him breathing and the silence between us stretches, but I know that we both
have thoughts running through our heads. Thoughts that we have been putting off
far too long.
“Em, you know I want you to come with me-”
I start to sit up, but he pulls me back, shushing me. “But I know you have your
job here.”
“I know this is a huge opportunity for
you, but I can't just quit and follow you for a year.” I look down at our
fingers that are entwined as I try to share my thoughts with him. “Ryan, I’m
scared. We’re on shaky ground right now. Can’t you see? I’m not sure we'll
Ryan: I’m still at work
Me: How much longer?
Ryan: Not sure. I’ll call
I look at my computer and groan, because
it’s almost six thirty. I’m drained, annoyed and now pissed at Ryan. He’s still
here, and already I feel alone. I didn’t move out here and agree to marry him,
just to wind up by myself. This day has dragged, but most likely it feels
that way because I am eager to get home.
Me: Don’t bother
Why am I being such a bitch?
I clean up my desk and grab a stack of
things to take home with me before shutting everything down. Just as I walk out
of the office my phone rings and I look to see it’s Ryan and roll my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” he stumbles over his words. “Everything
okay?”
“No, Ryan,” I snap back, “I’m not. You
leave in four days but you have to work late.”
“Don’t you think I’d rather be home with
you?”
“I don’t know what to think. We just
picked out your new home for the next year, you’re closing up things at work,
and I’m busy. I’m just not sure when we’ll get to spend any time together
before you leave. Before you know it, Friday will be here and we’ll have missed
out.”
“Em-”
“No. You know what? Don’t worry about it.
I’ll just see you when you get home.” I don’t wait for him to say anything else.
I hang up and stuff my phone into my purse and storm out to my car to head
home.
The entire drive home, I go between
sniffling like a child to getting fired up over Ryan leaving. By the time I
pull into my parking spot, I’m finally calm and feel like maybe I’ll just go to
sleep and put a nail in this day. To my surprise, those ideas are put on hold
because when I open the door to let myself in, Ryan is leaning against the back
of the couch, staring at me.
I’m trying too hard to keep my composure,
so I walk to the counter and place my purse on one of the two barstools and
turn to face him. I'm unsure whether to walk over and hug him or to stand back
and wait for him. But before I can decide one way or the other, Ryan pushes to
his feet and walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me
close. I bury my head in his chest and I am crumbling all over again. The pain
of him leaving consumes me and I begin crying inconsolably. I wrap my arms
around him, holding tight, as though my grasp alone can keep him here.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers into my
hair.
“I’m morry, moo,” I answer muffled into
his chest between sobs. He chuckles and loosens his grip.
“What?”
I look up at his face, take a deep breath
and clarify, “I said, ‘I’m sorry, too.’”
He runs his thumb across my cheek, wiping
a stray tear and leans down to kiss me. This single act has the tears escaping
all over again, so he takes my hand and urges me to sit on the couch with him,
“I already ordered from the Chinese restaurant you like, it should be here in a
bit. So we have time to talk.”
I look at him with a questioning eye. “You
think all of our problems are going to be solved in twenty minutes, Ry?”
“No, but we can at least start. Unless
you want to do something else with those twenty minutes,” he teases.
“You give yourself too much credit,” I
joke, and the laugh he releases causes a smile to finally appear on my face. He
leans into the cushions, pulls my back to his chest and holds me close. I hear
him breathing and the silence between us stretches, but I know that we both
have thoughts running through our heads. Thoughts that we have been putting off
far too long.
“Em, you know I want you to come with me-”
I start to sit up, but he pulls me back, shushing me. “But I know you have your
job here.”
“I know this is a huge opportunity for
you, but I can't just quit and follow you for a year.” I look down at our
fingers that are entwined as I try to share my thoughts with him. “Ryan, I’m
scared. We’re on shaky ground right now. Can’t you see? I’m not sure we'll
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