Love's Sins (Sequel to Silent Cries)

Chapter Three - No Time For Lies.

Ryan's POV

I sit in the recliner, my palms already well sweat drenched from the anticipation of Rory's return. I haven't been here long, literally I just stepped inside only minutes ago. The clock on the wall ticks rhythmically with the seconds passing as if to mock me. I honestly have no idea how this all is going to play out when Rory gets home. Will I throw him out? Will I cry? Both? I just don't know.

I groan in compliance with the chair as I rise to my feet, brushing the sweat from my palms off and onto my pants. I hear the car pull up in the drive and my body tenses quickly, like a spring coiled to release. I learned in college that this is part of my body's fight or flight assessment, the shaking and the stiffness. Though I do know that I can't and I won't run from this.. I'm done with the knife that's been shoved in my back digging in deeper and deeper the longer this continues.

I hear the door knob turn, the door opening slowly it seems from my far off mental state. I hear feet pacing forward on the floor and they grow louder with his approach. I shiver in disgust when his breathe is felt against the back of my neck, "Hey you." He says, making an attempt at hugging me from behind, but I push him off of me before he can. Turning on my heel to face him, his face reads a clear expression of pure confusion, clearly at my rejection to his advances. Taking a step back, I breathe in and my next breath shakes on its way out in a hiss between my clenched teeth, "Get out." I hear myself say in a low and barely audible whisper.

Rory puckers his eyebrow in further confusion, making it impossible for me to steady myself, the bile rises in my throat when he asks in an innocent tone why. Straightening up to my tallest, I take a firm step forward so that I tower over him, "I want you out. I don't want a cheater here." I hiss. Rory's expression falters, his eyes growing wide for half a second before he regains his closure and clears his throat, "Bryan, what in the world are you talking about? Cheating?" He says in a thick fake voice. I dig through my pants pocket and retrieve the note I had found, the one that began this all. I drop it to the floor in front of him and watch in a growing rage as he picks it up, skims it with his eyes then makes his case.. And that's when any self control I have goes out the window.

I stalk him across the room, my eyes burning bright with tears of rage as I screech to him, "Get the fuck out! I know what you did! I saw you both in the coffee shop!" His back hits up against the wall in a thud, he side steps me and begins to plead with raised hands, "Bry! You have no idea how crazy this all has been! I broke it off with him because I love YOU and YOU only! What I did was scummy but you know I feel awful!" He says in a high pitched voice, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy. I'm just about to show remorse but that's when the memory of his mischievous grin appears.. How he enjoyed seeing the home wrecker burst into tears. He's sick.

"Out! Fucking out! I never wanna see you again!" I roar at him. He turns at this and runs to the front door with fear written all over him in the way he stumbles and hits the door frame. I grab the door knob and kick the door open before he has the chance. Still towering over him, I step forward as he trips and falls flat outside the doorway. Within a few moments those brown eyes lock on mine, there look simply begging for me to show mercy and normally I would give a second chance but my conscience however has other ideas, "You are pathetic.. You kiss him and then dared to touch me.. You lied for so long and now this is where the shit hits the fan.. We are done." I say, the last three words with extra care and articulation, before turning my back on him and shutting the door behind me.

Falling back against the door, I slide to the ground as the tears prick my eyes. I don't have time for the lies, the games, the overwhelming emotions of this all. My body begins to shake with the urges I used to feel after my mother would hit me or say something hurtful. I haven't cut in years or done anything of the sort. I know now that it was only bad for me in the long run but I'll always have to live with the choice I made. The day I took that blade to my wrist there was no going back completely. At some point the tears spill over, I don't really know how or what to feel so I just sit there for what seems like ages, wallowing in my own self pity.