It Ends with Us

Where is he going with this?
Ryle walks over and drops down to his knees in front of me. “Lily,” he
says. “I knew it would destroy him. I knew exactly what that little boy was
feeling . . . because that’s what happened to me. To Allysa’s and my older
brother . . .”
I can’t hold in the tears. I just start crying and he wraps his arms tightly
around my waist and lays his head on my lap. “I shot him, Lily. My best
friend. My big brother. I was only six years old. I didn’t even know I was
holding a real gun.”
His whole body begins to shake and he grips me even tighter. I press a
kiss into his hair because it feels like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. Just

---

like that night on the roof. And while I’m still so angry at him, I also still
love him and it absolutely kills me to find this out about him. About Allysa.
We sit quietly for a long time—his head on my lap, his arms around my
waist, my lips in his hair.
“She was only five when it happened. Emerson was seven. We were in
the garage, so no one heard our screams for a long time. And I just sat
there, and . . .”
He pulls away from my lap and stands up, facing the other direction.
After a long stretch of silence he sits down on the couch and leans
forward. “I was trying to . . .” Ryle’s face contorts in pain and he lowers his
head, covering it with his hands, shaking it back and forth. “I was trying to
put everything back inside his head. I thought I could fix him, Lily.”
My hand flies up to my mouth. I gasp so loudly, there’s no way to hide
it.
I have to stand up so I can catch a breath.
It doesn’t help.
I still can’t breathe.
Ryle walks over to me, taking my hands and pulling me to him. We hug
each other for a solid minute when he says, “I would never tell you this
because I want it to excuse my behavior.” He pulls back and looks me
firmly in the eyes. “You have to believe that. Allysa wanted me to tell you
all of this because since that happened, there are things I can’t control. I
get angry. I black out. I’ve been in therapy since I was six years old. But it
is not my excuse. It is my reality.”
He wipes away my tears, cradling my head against his shoulder.
“When you ran after me last night, I swear I had no intention of hurting
you. I was upset and angry. And sometimes when I feel that much
emotion, something inside of me just snaps. I don’t remember the
moment I pushed you. But I know I did. I did. All I was thinking when you
were running after me was how I needed to get away from you. I wanted
you out of my way. I didn’t process that there were stairs around us. I
didn’t process my strength compared to yours. I fucked up, Lily. I fucked
up.”
He lowers his mouth to my ear. His voice cracks when he says, “You are
my wife. I’m supposed to be the one who protects you from the monsters.
I’m not supposed to be one.” He holds me with so much desperation, he

---

begins to shake. I have never, in all my life, felt so much pain radiating
from one human.
It breaks me. It rips me apart from the inside out. All my heart wants to
do is wrap tightly around his.
But even with everything he just told me, I’m still fighting my own
forgiveness. I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again. I swore to him and to
myself that if he ever hurt me again, I would leave.
I pull away from him, unable to look him in the eye. I walk toward my
bedroom to try and take a moment to just catch my breath. I close my
bathroom door behind me and grip the sink, but I can’t even stand up. I
end up sliding to the floor in a heap of tears.
This isn’t how this was supposed to be. My whole life, I knew exactly
what I’d do if a man ever treated me the way my father treated my mother.
It was simple. I would leave and it would never happen again.
But I didn’t leave. And now, here I am with bruises and cuts on my body
at the hands of the man who is supposed to love me. At the hands of my
own husband.
And still, I’m trying to justify what happened.
It was an accident. He thought I was cheating on him. He was hurt and angry
and I got in his way.
I bring my hands to my face and I sob, because I feel more pain for that
man out there, knowing what he went through as a child, than I feel for
myself. And that doesn’t make me feel selfless or strong. It makes me feel
pathetic and weak. I’m supposed to hate him. I’m supposed to be the
woman my mother was never strong enough to be.
But if I’m emulating my mother’s behavior, then that would mean Ryle
is emulating my father’s behavior. But he isn’t. I have to stop comparing
us to them. We’re our own individuals in an entirely different situation.
My father never had an excuse for his anger, nor was he immediately
apologetic. The way he treated my mother was much worse than what’s
happened between Ryle and me.
Ryle just opened up to me in a way that he’s probably never opened up
to anyone. He’s struggling to be a better person for me.
Yes, he screwed up last night. But he’s here and he’s trying to make me
understand his past and why he reacted the way he did. Humans aren’t
perfect and I can’t let the only example I’ve ever witnessed of marriage
weigh in on my own marriage.

---

I wipe my eyes and pull myself up. When I look in the mirror, I don’t
see my mother. I just see me. I see a girl who loves her husband and wants
more than anything to be able to help him. I know Ryle and I are strong
enough to move past this. Our love is strong enough to get us through
this.
I walk out of the bathroom and back into the living room. Ryle stands
up and faces me, his face full of fear. He’s scared I’m not going to forgive
him, and I’m not sure that I do forgive him. But an act doesn’t have to be
forgiven in order to learn from it.
I walk over to him and I grab both of his hands in mine. I speak to him
with nothing but naked truth.
“Remember what you said to me on the roof that night? You said, ‘There
is no such thing as bad people. We’re all just people who sometimes do bad things.’ ”
He nods and squeezes my hands.
“You aren’t a bad person, Ryle. I know that. You can still protect me.
When you’re upset, just walk away. And I’ll walk away. We’ll leave the
situation until you’re calm enough to talk about it, okay? You are not a
monster, Ryle. You’re only human. And as humans, we can’t expect to
shoulder all of our pain. Sometimes we have to share it with the people
who love us so we don’t come crashing down from the weight of it all. But
I can’t help you unless I know you need it. Ask me for help. We’ll get
through this, I know we can.”
He exhales what feels like every breath he’s been holding in since last
night. He wraps his arms tightly around me and buries his face in my hair.
“Help me, Lily,” he whispers. “I need you to help me.”
He holds me against him and I know deep in my heart that I’m doing
the right thing. There is so much more good in him than bad, and I’ll do
whatever I can to convince him of that until he can see it, too.

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