Page 145 - It Ends with Us

“Tha t place we went to tha t one time with your mom,” he says.

“Bib’s? I made res er vations for six o’clock.”
My hea rt feel s like it slink s down my ches t. My mother says, “Oh,
good cho ice. ”
“Yea h. If you like stale brea d. Bye, Mom.” I ha ng up and look at
R yle. “I don’t want to go back there. I didn’t like it. Let ’s try
somet hi ng new.”

I fail to tel l hi m why I real ly don’t want to go back there. But ho w
do you tel l your brand -new boyfriend tha t you’re trying to avoid your
firs t love?
R yle pushes off the wall. “You’ll be fine, ” he says. “Allysa’s ex cited
to ea t there, I told her all about it.”
May be I’ll get lucky an d Atlas won’t be working.
“Spea king of food,” R yle says. “I’m star ving .”

The cas serole!
“Oh shi t!” I say, laughi ng .
R yle rushes to the kitchen and I stand up and follow hi m in there. I
walk in just as he pulls the oven door open and waves away the smoke.
Ruined.
I get dizzy all of a sudden from stand ing up too fast after ha ving

three glasses of wine. I grab the count er bes ide hi m to steady mysel f,
just as he rea ches in to pull the burnt cassero le out.
“R yle! You need a . . .”
“Shi t!” he yel ls.
“Pot ho lder.”
The cassero le falls from hi s ha nd and land s on the floor, sha tteri ng
ev er ywhere. I lift up my feet to avoid broken glass and mushro om

chi cken splatter. I start laughi ng as soon as I rea lize he didn’t ev en
thi nk to use a pot ho lder.
Must be the wine. Thi s is some seriously strong wine.
He slams the oven shu t and moves to the faucet , sho ving hi s ha nd
und er the cold water, mutter ing curse words. I’m trying to suppres s
my laught er, but the wine and the ridiculousnes s of the last few

sec ond s are making it ha rd. I look at the floor—a t the mes s we’re
about to ha ve to clea n up—a nd the laught er bursts from me. I’m still
laughi ng as I lean over to get a look at R yle’s ha nd . I ho pe he didn’t
hu rt it too bad.