Page 21 of Untying the Knot
“He sort of has theright to be angry,” Nichole says while sucking an olive off her martini stick as I talk to her on FaceTime for our “happy hour.” She still lives in Chicago, and when I moved, we made a pact to meet up regularly for happy hour despite being hundreds of miles apart.
“What?” I ask in outrage. “How does he have any right to be angry?”
“Uh, he had no idea you wanted a divorce, and then bam, papers. Any person has the right to be angry about that.”
“I haven’t been happy for months, so this should not be a surprise.”
“But have you talked to him about it?” Nichole asks.
“Yes,” I nearly shout. “I have. Several times and every single conversation has been interrupted. He’s blown me off, or he flat out hasn’t listened. One time, we had a date scheduled to talk about our life and what we want, and he skipped out on that for a meeting with the Cane brothers. It’s not like I’m some heroine in a movie who breaks up with someone because of miscommunication. I’ve tried several times to have open and honest conversations. I’ve told him I’m not happy. I told him I didn’t want to move to California. He hasn’t listened. Ever since he retired from baseball, he’s been on this weird campaign to prove himself, and I don’t get it. He has several world championship wins to his name, so why does he need more? Why does he feel the need to prove himself?” My eyes well up with tears, and that’s when Nichole sets her drink down and leans closer to the phone.
“Do you want me to come out there? I can help you pack, take your mind off things, and maybe go out and have some fun?”
“No,” I say, wiping my nose. “I know you’re busy with work.”
“I just hired an intern and planned on passing some work her way. Plus, I recently finished up a big web design project so I’m only working on minor things right now. I have time.”
“You know he’ll hate it if you come out here.”
“Pshhh, why? I’m a delight.”
“You always get me in trouble with men.”
She chuckles. “Well, good thing you’re getting a divorce, huh?” With a wink, she opens her computer and starts tapping away. “I’m going to book a flight. I have some things to finalize, but this weekend, I’ll be there. It will be like old times—you and me, prowling the town.”
“I don’t want to prowl,” I say as I snuggle into my pillow, forgetting all about the seltzer water with a splash of cranberry juice that I poured myself. “I still love him, Nichole, even if he did hurt me.”
“Well then, you can watch me prowl. Maybe take some pointers for when you are ready to make a move.”
“Doubt that will be anytime soon,” I mutter. Underneath his selfishness and self-centeredness, I know he’s a good man. A great man, actually. The best.I just haven’t seen that man for a long time, and, it seems, no begging or conversation will bring him back.
“Either way, I’m coming to visit, and if you want, I will act as the big spoon at night.”
“Not necessary.” I crack a smile.
“Ooh, see, there’s a glimpse of my bestie. Just wait. When I get out there, I’m going to turn that frown upside down.”
“I don’t think I want to be cheered up,” I say, feeling like the weight of the world rests on my shoulders. “I think I just want to be sad.” We said vows to each other. Vows to love and cherish each other until death parts us. And I’m just so sad that those vows now mean nothing.
“Then I’ll be sad with you.” Growing serious, she says, “Myla, I know how much Ryot means to you. I know he’s the love of your life and the one who broke past the many barriers you’ve erected over time. And I know how much this decision has weighed on you, so trust me when I say I will be there for you in whatever capacity you need. Just give this girl a few days.”
“Thank you, Nichole. That means a lot to me.”
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” I sigh.
ChapterFour
Eleven years ago…
DrinkWithMe:Bisley Balls, I see that you posted another picture of your batting. Riveting.
Ryot.Bisley.Balls:Sliding into my DMs? I’m surprised it took you this long.
DrinkWithMe:More like stomping into your DMs with a PSA. You keep reposting the same video. If you want to grow your audience, you really must push past your comfort zone.
Ryot.Bisley.Balls:This coming from the girl who posted a glass of orange juice this morning with the comment: no pulp.
