Soulmates ✓

15 | We're In It Together

Somehow Ryan ends up parking outside her apartment building once again. He doesn't have any excuses to knock on her door tonight, only that he needs to see her. After the coincidental encounter with Shay at the restaurant, Ryan can't seem to gather his mind around the whole fiancé thing.

"She was letting him hurt her," Matt had said earlier.

"Yeah, but that doesn't make it right." Ryan poured some of the whiskey over his bleeding palm. That shit burned like hell but not more than watching Arnab's tight hold around Shay. "He can't treat her like that. No one can treat Shay like that. I won't allow it."

Matt cursed under his breath, eyeing Ryan's injured palm warily. "I don't know what history y'all share, but it's not your place, man. She doesn't want you to get involved, and you're not getting involved." He placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder and shook his head. "I can see that she means something to you, but it's her business. Let her be if she doesn't acknowledge the connection between you two. It's her choice, Ryan."

"It's always her choice, but not in this one." Ryan pushed his hand away and got inside his car, not knowing where exactly he would go. Definitely, not his apartment.

"I'm just saying, you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved," Matt waved his hand before heading towards his car. He sighed a defeated breath knowing Ryan won't stop until he proves him wrong. "And try not to get your feelings hurt while you are at it."

Matt is wrong. Ryan is not here to save her; he's here to save himself. Ryan is here to get rid of an old spasm of guilt. Moreover, there's nowhere he would rather be, except, of course, outside her building or maybe inside her apartment.

Ryan doesn't want to return to his cold, vacant apartment where only loss and loneliness accompany him to sleep. He is here to convince himself that Shay doesn't need him anymore. That's what he's been doing for seven years, trying to convince himself that he didn't need her. Only now it seems impossible that Ryan has met her, seen her scars, and delved into the emptiness of her eyes. He has fresh images of her, a much-needed smell of her scent, and the softness of her touch that tingles through his every nerve endings, and it's not a choice anymore.

Maybe that's what pushes him out of his SUV and towards her building. Before he can dread his decision, he's climbing the stairs and tries not to carry his restlessness on his sleeves. In his defense, he is only there to collect his suit jacket, the one he forgot on the stand.

Her apartment door is slightly ajar, and a flicker of light radiates through it. He can hear the muffled voices coming from inside and it worries him that something is wrong. He doesn't hesitate to pass the threshold, but stops when he sees a pair of male dress shoes by the door alongside her heels. A burn spreads across his heart, and that dies out only when he hears angry voices coming from her bedroom.

"You can't just walk out on my mother like that. It's disrespectful." Her fiancé's voice rings through the room.

Shay releases an angry laugh. "So it wasn't disrespectful when she pointed out how ugly my face looks with my scars."

"She wants to help, Shay. What's so wrong with that?" His voice is low but irritated.

"If my scars bother you so much, why are you with me?" She sounds exasperated. "Also, you hurt me tonight, Arnab. My arm still hurts from your grip. What's wrong with you? Why are we even getting married?" She lets out a sigh. "I think we should reconsider."

"This is so stupid." He carries dry humor in his words. "You can't be mad over something so stupid. I didn't mean to hurt you and you know it."

"It's not stupid. You think I don't know how difficult it is for you to look past my scars." She sounds so small and hurt that Ryan has an urge to charge into her bedroom to knock some sense into her fiancé or maybe knock him out altogether. Instead, he stands by the door, with his blood shimmering and heart thudding in his ears as she says, "I've seen the embarrassed look on your face. Hell, the two times we kissed, you had to keep your eyes closed the whole time."