It Ends with Us

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
The look in his eye. The anger in his jaw.
I’m relieved he walked away, but I’m half-convinced he’s probably
going to be waiting outside the restaurant when we leave, ready to kick
Ryle’s ass.
I breathe in my nose, out my mouth, wash my hands, repeat the
breathing. Once I’m more calm, I dry my hands on a towel.
I’ll just go back out there and tell Ryle I’m not feeling well. We’ll leave
and we’ll never come back. They all think the chef is an asshole, so that
can be my excuse.
I unlock the door, but I don’t pull it open. It starts pushing open from
the other side, so I step back. Atlas steps inside the bathroom with me and
locks the door. His back rests against the door as he stares at me, focused
on the cut near my eye.
“What happened?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
His eyes are narrow, still ice blue but somehow burning with fire.
“You’re lying, Lily.”
I muster enough of a smile to get me by. “It was an accident.”
Atlas laughs, but then his face falls flat. “Leave him.”
Leave him?
Jesus, he thinks this is something else entirely. I take a step forward and
shake my head. “He’s not like that, Atlas. It wasn’t like that. Ryle is a good
person.”

---

He tilts his head and leans it forward a little bit. “Funny. You sound just
like your mother.”
His words sting. I immediately try to reach around him for the door,
but he grabs my wrist. “Leave him, Lily.”
I yank my hand away. I turn my back to him and inhale a deep breath. I
release it slowly as I face him again. “If it’s any comparison at all, I’m more
scared of you right now than I’ve ever been of him.”
My words make Atlas pause for a moment. His nod starts out slowly, and
then gets more prominent as he steps away from the door. “I certainly
didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He motions toward the
door. “Just trying to repay the concern you’ve always shown me.”
I stare at him for a moment, unsure how to take his words. He’s still
raging on the inside, I can see it. But on the outside, he’s calm—collected.
Allowing me to leave. I reach forward and unlock the door, then pull it
open.
I gasp when my eyes meet Ryle’s. I quickly glance over my shoulder to
see Atlas filing out of the bathroom with me.
Ryle’s eyes fill with confusion as he looks from me to Atlas. “What the
fuck, Lily?”
“Ryle.” My voice shakes. God, this looks so much worse than it is.
Atlas steps around me and turns toward the doors to the kitchen, as if
Ryle doesn’t even exist to him. Ryle’s eyes are glued to Atlas’s back. Keep
walking, Atlas.
Right when Atlas reaches the kitchen doors, he pauses.
No, no, no. Keep walking.
In what becomes one of the most dreadful moments I can imagine, he
spins around and strides toward Ryle, grabbing him by the collar of his
shirt. Almost as soon as it happens, Ryle forces Atlas back and slams him
against the opposite wall. Atlas lunges for Ryle again, this time shoving his
forearm against Ryle’s throat, pinning him against the wall.
“You touch her again and I’ll cut your fucking hand off and shove it
down your throat, you worthless piece of shit!”
“Atlas, stop!” I yell.
Atlas releases Ryle forcefully, taking a huge step back. Ryle is breathing
heavily, staring at Atlas long and hard. Then his focus moves directly to
me. “Atlas?” He says his name with familiarity.

---

Why is Ryle saying Atlas’s name like that? Like he’s heard me say it before? I’ve
never told him about Atlas.
Wait.
I did.
That first night on the roof. It was one of my naked truths.
Ryle lets out a disbelieving laugh and points at Atlas, but he’s still
looking at me. “This is Atlas? The homeless boy you pity-fucked?”