This here is war. The same battlefield I grew up on.
Finally, Mom clears her throat, sets her napkin down, and rests both of her wrists against the edge of the table. “You’re an attractive man, Ryot. Clearly successful, with a large bank account.” Oh no, where is this going? Please . . . please don’t break me even more. “So I’m wondering what you’re doing with someone like my daughter, who is average at best, has yet to pick a career path, and from my knowledge, still shares an apartment with her friend because she can’t afford to live alone?” Mom stares at us. “It’s pretty obvious why she’s barking up your tree. I can’t possibly see why you’re interested in her.”
Old wounds are split open.
The past floods my brain, and what minimal confidence I had walking into this house is washed away as self-doubt and hate pulse up my spine.
And this is exactly what I feared about bringing Ryot here. This disdain my mother has for me. This hatred. It’s coming through in such an evil, awful . . . humiliating way that I can barely look at him as I shrink into my chair.
What Ryot must be thinking of me right now.
“Verna,” Dad chimes in. “Why don’t we change the subject? Tell Myla about the knitting club you joined.”
“I’d rather not. She won’t be interested in it. She doesn’t quite understand what it means to have a hobby, other than the hobby of following her friend around, looking for attention.”
“She’s the most unique person I’ve ever met,” Ryot says, drawing attention back to himself. He sets his fork down and looks my mom in the eyes. “That’s what first attracted me to her. Then it was her eyes, the color of the sky on the sunniest of days. After that, it was her voice, which has an edge to it, an edge that says she’s been through a lot in her life, but she’s persevered.”
“Ryot,” I say, tugging on his hand. “You don’t have to—”
“Then it was her body, which I’m not ashamed to say, because she’s sexy. The curves you describe as ‘packing on weight’ are my favorite parts of her body. She’s a real woman, a woman I love touching, feeling, and worshipping. Easily, without a doubt, the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with. So sexy, Verna, that I can barely keep my hands off her.” Oh God. I gulp. “She’s everything I would want in a woman, and it took me so goddamn long to find her. And when I got to know her better, I realized just how funny she is. Smart. Kind. She would do anything for anyone if she knows what she does is appreciated. I’m jealous of her courage and her strength and wish I possessed even half of it.” He rises from the table, and I look at him, shocked as he grabs my hand and pulls me up from my chair as well.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Your daughter is special, and it’s pathetic that, as her mother, you can’t see that.”
“How dare you?” my mom huffs as Dad stands from the table as well.
Addressing my dad, Ryot says, “Mr. Moore, I apologize for the outburst, but I can’t sit here and listen to your wife denigrate Myla with every word she says. That’s unpardonable and disgusting. I can’t and won’t remain silent when someone I care about is being torn to shreds. However, I hope you and I can share a meal in the future.”
He then turns to my mom and says, “I have simply no idea how you were ever employed as a therapist when you are so capable of such monstrous and hateful words, knowing the ramifications. No. Idea. Thank God you weren’t able to destroy this precious woman by my side, emotionally . . . or physically.”
With that, he leads me to the entryway, where he picks up our shoes but doesn’t even bother putting them on before we are out of the house and heading to his car. He doesn’t say a word, just opens my door, helps me in, and then tosses my shoes in as well. When he opens his car door, he shoves his shoes to the back, buckles up, starts the car, and drives.
Nothing is said.
And as we drive through the suburbs of Chicago, all I can think about is what my mom said . . . what Ryot said. Did he really mean all those things? I want to say he did, and that’s why he stuck up for me, but the little girl inside me, the one that’s been abused repeatedly by her mother, mentally and physically, she’s the one who is suffering the consequences. She’s the one feeling the doubt. She’s the one who wants to crawl into a hole and never be seen again.
I don’t pay attention to where we’re going until we’re pulling into the private parking lot of Ryot’s apartment building. He finds his spot, shuts off the engine, and then grabs his shoes from the back. He slips them on quickly and then exits the car. I slip my shoes on as well just as he opens my door and holds his hand out.
Unsure of what else to do, I take it and allow him to guide me up to his empty apartment. He doesn’t bother turning on any lights as he brings me to his bedroom and shuts the door.
“Ryot,” I finally say, my voice tight from holding back tears.
He doesn’t look at me, just charges toward the bathroom, where I hear something crash to the floor. The sound startles me.
He’s angry.
Very angry.
What do I do?
I peek around the corner and catch him leaning forward, gripping the counter while breathing heavily. When he notices me shift, he turns so his eyes are on me.
“Come here,” he says in a menacing tone. When I don’t move, he softens and says, “Myla, come here.”
But I don’t listen. Instead, I twist my hands in front of me and say, “I know what you must be thinking.”
“Oh?” He moves so now he’s in the archway of his bathroom door. “What is it that I’m thinking, Myla?”
“That you . . . uh, that you feel sorry for me, that you think my life is a total disaster and that I’m probably not worth sitting through another one of those attempts at a dinner.” I glance away, unable to look him in the eyes. “I, I don’t know what to say about my mom other than I hate her. I hate that she has power over me, that she makes me feel so weak, so unwanted, that some of the things she said were true—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. Everything your mom said tonight was a blatant jab to demean you. Crush you. She attempted to poke every single wound you have, and it was spineless. People like her love to control others. They will do everything they can to make sure they continue to hold that power.”
“Well, she does, and now she’s dragged you in. So I can understand if you just want to . . . I don’t know, go our separate ways—”
“You’re joking, right?” he asks, his eyes narrowing. “Are you really attempting to tell me I can break up with you?”
I toss my arms up in the sky. “I don’t know what to do, Ryot. You’re clearly angry, everything that she said was humiliating, and this was a total disaster. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to walk away.”
“I’m angry because I can’t believe a mother can speak about her daughter like that. I’m angry because your dad barely interjected to stop her yet, you think he’s the greatest thing that’s walked this planet. I’m mad because instead of spending one of my nights off with my girl, I had to spend it with two people who can’t see the goddamn beauty that I see in you every day. I’m not angry with you, Myla. I’m angry with the people who should be loving you, supporting you, defending you, and rooting for you.”