It Should Have Been Like This (The Revised Version)

Chapter 88: Rylee's Crossroad

I stepped quietly into Rylee’s bedroom, the familiar scent of black cherry with a subtle touch of ‘black rose’ filling the air. My hands were shoved deep into the kangaroo pockets of my hoodie, fingers curling into fists. I stopped at the foot of the bed, watching her fragile figure huddled in the middle, clutching her knees to her chest, her face buried in the folds of her arms. The bedsheets, deep red with scattered flaming stars, were tangled around her legs, a stark contrast to the gray sadness that seemed to engulf her.

Seeing her like this—so vulnerable—twisted something deep inside me. Rylee never showed her softness, not to anyone. But I knew better than to offer comfort too soon; she would push me away. Being sweet didn’t work with her. When she felt cornered, she lashed out.

I exhaled a heavy sigh, the kind that weighed more than just air. I sat down at the edge of the bed, my body turned sideways so I could still see her face, or at least what was left of it beneath the veil of misery. As if she’d been waiting for my presence to break the silence, Rylee lifted her head, her gray eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Her face was a wreck of emotions—her cheeks stained with dried streaks of black where her makeup had run, her lips trembling like fragile leaves in the wind. She looked like she had cried for hours, drowning in her own sorrow before finally surfacing here.

“Do you admit it’s your fault, and you acted foolishly?” I asked, my voice steady but low.

“Foolish?” she repeated, disbelief sharpening her words. “What’s so wrong about taking care of a nightmare?”

“Rylee,” I sighed again, “don’t call your child a nightmare. This is supposed to be good news.”

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile, the kind that barely touched her eyes. “You call this a blessing? How is it good, Lavender? How? I’m carrying a man’s child, a real living child,” she said, her voice so fragile it felt like she could shatter under the weight of her own disbelief.

“Except that man is Phineas, the love of your life—”

“The reason I still breathe, my everything,” she interjected, her voice rising with intensity. “And that is what terrifies me. For so many years, I’ve selfishly held him back. I never wanted marriage, never wanted children, never even wanted love. But I ended up falling so deeply for him, that I couldn’t breathe without him. I love him selfishly, greedily, to the point where letting go would be like cutting off my own air.”

Her voice broke as fresh tears poured from her eyes, her hand flying to her forehead as though she could press the pain away. “I’m a terrible lover,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anguish. “A terrible person, not even worthy of being his friend. I know how difficult I’ve been, how awful I am to him most of the time, but even knowing that, I can’t let him go.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, lifting her gaze to meet mine, her eyes glassy with a plea for understanding. “Lavender, do you know how many times I’ve turned him down? Twenty-seven rejected marriage proposals, and fifteen rejections when he asked about having a family. Yet he stays. He never gives up on me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with regret and self-doubt. I stood up and moved closer to her, sitting beside her now, trying to absorb the weight of her pain. Rylee was unraveling before me, and I could feel the storm of emotions swirling in her heart.

“Phineas has always wanted a family with me,” she continued, her voice breaking. “But I’ve pushed him away over and over, and yet he stays. He loves me, just as much as I love him, maybe more because his love isn’t selfish. He doesn't stay with me for selfish reasons like I do. But look at me, Lav, do I look like a wife? A mother?”