I Suck at Goodbyes （28）

Wednesday, November 24

c/o Ryan Baylor

Effective Immediately:

Please be advised that you have been reassigned to the Worcester Railers by the Bridgeport Islanders.

You are expected to report to practice in Worcester on Friday, November 26. Details about when and where have been sent to your team email.

An update on your progress will be provided two weeks from the date of this letter.

Tomas Sellars, General Manager

Bridgeport Islanders

Amara stared in horror at the piece of paper that he'd left on the kitchen counter, as she'd just got home from picking up a few things at the grocery store. "Oh my God," she said aloud, covering her mouth and setting her bag down. She heard heavy metal music blasting from his bedroom, which meant that he wanted to be left the fuck alone.

She immediately called Tyler, but he hadn't picked up, so she shot him a quick text.

A: Call me the actual SECOND you can. We have a lot to talk about.

She couldn't help but feel like this was somehow all her fault. If they'd just gone home after the game, none of this would have happened. She hadn't even spoken to Tyler since everything went down at the party, which was not normal. She chalked it up to the fact that he was on the road with New York in Dallas and was trying her best not to read too much into it. But it'd been over two days, and she'd never gone even a day without talking to him before.

Not to mention, tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and not only would Ryan be traveling to Massachusetts, but now she'd be spending it completely alone. Nick was headed to Long Island to visit Mark's family, and of course, he'd invited her to tag along. She declined, still planning on spending the day with Ryan, even though they still hadn't talked since the hotel room.

Well, fuck. This just keeps getting better and better.

Just then, Tyler texted her back.

T: Just touched down at MacArthur. Headed back to the apartment. I'll come by in a bit if you'll be home.

A: Working tonight at 8. Biggest party night of the year. Ugh. Come by before, or I'll just call you when I'm done. Things just went from bad to worse.

About two hours passed, and Amara had just nodded off on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. She got up to answer it, and there stood Tyler, dressed in khakis, a red polo shirt, Vans, and of course, his signature wool hat. "Well, don't you look dapper?"

"Dapper? Thanks, Grandma Ethel. Got any Werther's Originals for me? Some rice pudding, perhaps?"

"Fuck off," she said, opening the door as he waltzed in, slapped her ass, and helped himself to a beer from the fridge.

"So," he said, cracking it and sitting down. "I guess we‘ve got some shit to talk about, eh?"

"You really didn't even attempt to contact us at all, after what went down at the party? That's messed up, Ty."

"Oh, you mean after Rook got jealous seeing you with another man and decided to beat him into the fuckin' ER? By the way, what the fuck happened to your face? He better not have hit you, too."

She shook her head. "You have no idea what happened, do you? Guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering you were coked out of your goddamn mind."

"I was waitin' for that. You never disappoint, woman. Yes, I fuckin' got high. Ninety percent of the people there were high, OK?"

"Since when are you such a good little follower?"

"Don't be a bitch."

"Don't call me a bitch."

"Then don't fuckin' act like one."

"You didn't even call or text, Tyler. Once."

"First of all, do you know how busy I was? The NHL isn't the fuckin' AHL, Amara. Between practices, appearances, press, interviews…"

"Rippin' lines of coke out of strippers' asscracks."

"OK, that's a very specific accusation. There was one trip to a strip club. There may have been some coked-up sex, but I assure you, no asscracks were involved."

"So proud of you, Ty. You've really made it." She rolled her eyes and walked over to the sink, distracting herself by drying dishes and putting them away.

"What's up your ass? Seriously, why are you being so cold to me?"

She slammed a mug on the counter, shattering it and startling him. "Why am I being so cold? This bruise?" she yelled, pointing to her face. "Is from Neil Halloway. When we went upstairs to hook up, I found out he was married and tried to stop it, but he wouldn't let me. I tried to fight my way out and got punched in the fucking face! That's why Ryan beat his ass, and that's why he's been reassigned to Worcester, for sticking up for me when they just wanna sweep it under the rug. All the while, my best friend, the only person in this fucking world I trust, has ghosted me for almost three days. So, forgive me for being so cold, Tyler. I was physically assaulted and nearly raped. But hey, I'm sorry for being a bitch."

He had a look of complete shock on his face, then folded his arms and dropped his head onto them against the counter.

"You better fucking say something. You've had three days to be quiet."

He picked his head up and wiped his eyes. "Amara," he said quietly. "I didn't know. I swear to God, I didn't fuckin' know."

She'd only seen him cry one other time.

"Well, now you do. And Ryan and I haven't spoken since that night. I've been…completely alone to deal with this, Ty."

He got up, walked over to her, and wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm a dick. And I'm sorry."

She hugged him back, melting into his arms and inhaling his intoxicating scent deeply. She'd missed it so much.

He pulled away after a few moments. "So, when's he gotta be in Mass?"

"By Friday."

"Shit. Where is he? How is he?"

She shrugged. "I told you, we haven't talked. He left this," she said, holding up the letter, "on the counter today, and that's the only reason I know. He's been in his room all day."

"Should I try to go talk to him?"

"I mean…"

Just as she said that, his door opened, and he came down the hallway struggling with three huge bags. Tyler went over to help, grabbing one from him.

"Hayes. Back already?"

"Yep. They only wanted me to stay for two games, try me out. I may get called up again if there's an injury, but for right now, roster's full, so I'm back in Bridgeport."

"You going home?"

"Nah. We have a game Friday. Wouldn't be worth it."

"Well, I'm on my way to Worcester for at least two weeks, so hi and bye, I guess."

"That's shitty, man. Amara filled me in, and you did what you had to fuckin' do. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, well. No good deed goes unpunished, right?" He put his two bags down on the floor. "Amara, I need to talk to you before I leave."

"You're not leaving until tomorrow, right? I thought we'd spend Thanksgiving here."

"I'm leaving right now."

"Now?" she yelled. "Ryan, you're gonna be alone for Thanksgiving?"

He shrugged. "I don't…have a whole lot to be thankful for right now anyway. Hayes? Give us a minute?"

"I got you." He walked into Amara's bedroom and closed the door, giving them some privacy.

Ryan and Amara stood face to face. "Ry, I've hated not talking to you, but what you said really hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I was completely out of line, and I'm sorry. I'm gonna say some things and then I'm just gonna leave real quick because I suck at goodbyes."

"This isn't goodbye, Ryan."

"For now it is. Listen, I've got a rough two weeks ahead of me, and as much as it kills me to say this, Amara, I can't talk to you for these two weeks. At all. Not a text, not a phone call, not FaceTime, nothing. I want these next two weeks to be like we never even met."

"Oh. Wow. Speaking of things that hurt."

"Amara, stop. We broke up, but you keep leading me on, making me think there's hope when there's clearly not. I love you, and I'd get back together with you yesterday. But that's not what you want, so you've gotta give me some space. I'm sorry, but I have to leave now." He picked up all three of his bags and wrestled them out the door. "Tell Hayes I said bye."

The door closed, and she stood there staring at it for a few moments, hoping he'd come back in and take it all back.

But he was gone.

And as much as it hurt, she knew it was probably what was best for both of them.

"You OK, babe?" Tyler came around the corner and put a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded. "What other choice do I have?"