Page 44 of Untying the Knot
My brain wavers between deleting and messaging him back.
This is the last thing I need. I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with my life because I can’t be a server forever. And that shows how far off I am from committing to a man in a relationship. I’m just not there yet.
Setting my phone down, I move away from it and into the kitchen, where I open the fridge and pull out a container of my overnight oats. The entire time, the message burns a hole in my brain. From the silverware drawer, I grab a spoon and take my pre-made peanut butter oats back to the island and have a seat. I stare at my phone.
My phone stares back at me.
Don’t, Myla. Don’t answer the message.
Don’t even think about it.
It’s a valiant effort, truly, but let’s all be honest here. No way can I let that message go unanswered.
I pick my phone up and message him back.
DrinkWithMe:What sort of impression do you think I have of you?
Once I press send, I set the phone down and squeeze my eyes shut. God, what am I doing? Why am I entertaining this? I know where it’s going to lead. There’s no way we can just talk. There will be some sort of endgame, and that will probably be a date.
Am I ready for a date?
No.
Not even close.
I don’t think I’m mentally prepared for anything past a fun night of flirting, which is all I’ve ever done with him.
My phone dings, and I pick it up so fast I nearly knock over my oats.
I open the app and click on his message.
Ryot.Bisley.Balls:The whole boring in bed thing.
DrinkWithMe:Oh, well, is it not true?
He types right away.
Ryot.Bisley.Balls:No. Boring is not how I would describe it. More like . . . cries when he comes.
I nearly spit out my mouthful as I laugh so loud that Nichole calls from her bedroom. “Not ready for dating, my ass.”
“Shut up, Nichole,” I call out.
ChapterSeven
MYLA
Present day . . .
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nichole asks as she hands me the last of the food from the kitchen fridge.Am I sure? No, not at all. But I don’t know what elsetodo.
“Last night wasn’t okay,” I answer as I place the apples in the fruit bin. “I can’t move out as I have nowhere to go yet, but I can draw a line in the sand, so to speak, to set stronger boundaries inside this house.”
Nichole takes a seat on the stairs that lead from the garage to the kitchen. “Okay. I get that. What did he do? I know you were a mess, but a silent one, and that worried me.”
It worried me too. I cried myself to sleep.Again.
Last night got out of hand. He used one of the best parts of our marriage as a weapon. He used our sex life to manipulate me. To control and seduce me. And if I gave in to him, if I fell back into our physical relationship, I’d probably feel demeaned.Thatwould destroy something inside me and right now I feel too fragile.I’ve had my share of feeling degraded.
