Page 70 - It Ends with Us

It all hi ts me at onc e. The ang er . . . the irri tation . . . the half glass

of cha mpagne I ha d in the kitchen. I’m so mad, I can’t ev en thi nk
straight . If the guy want s to have sex with me so bad . . . he sho uldn’t
ha ve fallen asleep ! If he does n’t want me to swoon, he sho uldn’t buy
me flowers ! He sho uldn’t ha ng cryptic pictures of me where he lives !
All I want is fres h air. I need fres h air. Luckily, I kno w just where to
find it.

Moment s later, I burst thro ugh the door to the rooftop. There are
stragglers from the party up here. Three of them , sea ted on the patio
furni ture. I igno re them and walk to the led ge with the good view and
lea n over it. I suck in sev era l deep brea ths and try to calm mysel f
down. I want to go downs tairs and tel l hi m to make up hi s damn
mind , but I kno w I need to ha ve a clea r hea d bef ore I do that.
The air is cold, and for some rea son, I blame tha t on R yle.

Ever ythi ng is hi s fault toni ght . All of it. Wars, famine, gun violenc e—i t
all someho w link s back to R yle.
“Can we ha ve a few minu tes alone?”
I spin around , and R yle is stand ing nea r the other gues ts.
Immed iatel y, all three of them no d and beg in to stand up to give us
privacy. I ho ld up my ha nd s and say, “Wait,” but no ne of them look at

me. “It’s no t nec es sary. Rea lly, you don’t ha ve to lea ve. ”
R yle stand s stoically with hi s ha nd s in hi s pocket s whi le one of the
gues ts mutters , “It’s fine, we don’t mind .” They beg in to fil e back
down the stair wel l. I roll my ey es and spin back toward the led ge onc e
I’m alone with hi m.
“Does ev er yone always do wha t you say?” I ask, irri tated .
He does n’t res pond . His footstep s are slow and del ibera te as he

closes in on me. My hea rt beg ins to bea t like it’s on a speed -date, and
I start scratchi ng at my ches t again.
“Lily,” he says from behi nd me.
I turn around and grip the led ge behi nd me with both ha nd s. His
ey es journey down to my clea vage. As soon as they do, I yank at the
top of my dres s so he can’t see it, and then I grip the led ge again. He

laughs and takes ano ther step closer. We’re almost touchi ng no w, and
my brain is mush. It’s pathet ic. I’m pathet ic.
“I feel like you ha ve a lot to say,” he says. “So I’d like to give you the
opportuni ty to spea k your na ked truth. ”