Page 189 - It Ends with Us

R yle walks over and drops down to hi s knees in front of me. “Lily,”

he says. “I kne w it would des troy hi m. I knew ex actly wha t tha t little
boy was feel ing . . . bec ause tha t’s wha t ha ppened to me. To Allysa’s
and my older brother . . .”
I can’t ho ld in the tea rs. I just start crying and he wraps hi s arms
tight ly around my waist and lays hi s hea d on my lap. “I sho t hi m, Lily.
My bes t friend . My big brothe r. I was onl y six yea rs old. I didn’t ev en

kno w I was ho lding a rea l gun. ”
His who le body beg ins to shake and he grips me ev en tight er. I
pres s a kiss int o hi s ha ir bec ause it feel s like he’s on the verg e of a
brea kdown. Just like tha t ni ght on the roof. And whi le I’m still so
ang ry at hi m, I also still love hi m and it absolutel y kills me to find thi s
out about hi m. About Allysa. We sit quiet ly for a long time—hi s hea d
on my lap, hi s arms around my waist, my lips in hi s ha ir.

“She was onl y fiv e when it ha ppened . Emers on was sev en. We were
in the garage, so no one hea rd our screa ms for a long time. And I just
sat there, and . . .”
He pulls away from my lap and stand s up, facing the other
direc tion. After a long stret ch of silenc e he sits down on the couch
and lea ns for ward. “I was trying to . . .” R yle’s face cont orts in pain

and he lowers his hea d, cover ing it with hi s ha nd s, sha king it back and
forth. “I was trying to put ev erythi ng back ins ide hi s hea d. I tho ught I
could fix hi m, Lily.”
My ha nd flies up to my mouth. I gasp so loudly, there’ s no way to
hi de it.
I ha ve to stand up so I can catch a brea th.
It does n’t hel p.

I still can’t brea the.
R yle walks over to me, taking my ha nd s and pulling me to hi m. We
hu g ea ch other for a solid minu te when he says, “I would nev er tel l
you thi s bec ause I want it to ex cuse my beha vior.” He pulls back and
looks me firml y in the ey es . “You ha ve to bel iev e tha t. Allysa want ed
me to tel l you all of thi s bec ause sinc e tha t ha ppened , there are thi ng s

I can’t cont rol. I get ang ry. I black out. I’ve been in thera py sinc e I was
six yea rs old. But it is no t my ex cuse. It is my rea lity.”
He wipes away my tea rs, cradling my hea d agains t hi s sho ulder.