Page 41 of Daddy to Go

I was tense, angry and now heartbroken with what had just happened. I needed to go home and let it all out but for some reason, I could not get my body to do what it was supposed to do. It was shutting down, and refusing to listen to me.

Just start the car, Abby. Start the damn car and go. There is nothing left here for you.

Hearing those words in my head started an instant flood of tears. The key was in the ignition, though, and my fingers turned it automatically. I just needed to make it home.

After all, I should have known that what I had was a pipe dream. Ryder Rivington wasn’t some movie hero. He was a normal man in town for a gig, and he warned me about his itinerant lifestyle. In fact, I was prepared to let him go, and to say goodbye if needed. I just didn’t expect for it to happen like this.

Five minutes later I found myself sitting in the parking lot of the donut shop in town, eating my feelings, and sobbing on the phone with Mary.

“Abby,” she said kindly.

“Yeah?” I sniffled.

“I need you to take a deep breath because honestly, I think out of everything you just sobbed in the phone I heard “wrinkled,” “doorstop,” “brownies,” and “donut cream,”” she replied.

I threw my donut back in the box and wiped my nose on my sleeve. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and took in a raspy deep breath. Slowly I let it out from my drooping lips and started to talk again.

“Ryder’s gone,” I whispered. “He is just gone. He left and didn’t tell me anything.”

Mary was silent for a moment. “Oh girl, I’m so sorry. That is not right. Fuck. Why are men such assholes? Why are they always such huge dickheads? Why can’t they just be honest with us?”

I sniffled, my breathing calming down. “I don’t know. I guess they’re too chicken shit to see a couple of tears or get yelled at. I didn’t ask for this. All I wanted was a goodbye.”

“Aw, I know sweetheart,” Mary said sympathetically. “Listen, I know a couple people here who can take him out. What do you say? Ryder Rivington, subject of the next murder mystery on TV? Either Dirty Joe or Top Hat Harry would be happy to make a couple bucks as a hired killer.”

I laughed and cried at the same time. “Thank you.”

“That’s what you pay me for,” she said. “Why don’t you come over and we can get that ice cream and wine? We can kill two birds with one stone.”

I half smiled and put the box of donuts in the other seat. “No. I need to go home. I just want to be alone for a while to clear my head and get through this mess. I appreciate it though. Maybe tomorrow. My weekends for the rest of eternity are now free.”

Mary scoffed. “Please girl, we will fill those date nights right up. When you’re ready of course.”

“Which will be when I’m seventy,” I said morosely. “I don’t know why any woman would go searching for this kind of misery.”

“Because it’s like a drug. And once your heart heals, you magically forget all of the pain you just went through. It’s gross and mean, and genetically fucked up.” Mary was pissed, but I could tell she was holding it back for me.

I sighed and started the car. “I love you Mary Berry.”

“I love you too, Snickers,” he replied with my old nickname. “Call me tomorrow.”

“I will,” I whispered, hanging up the phone.

I was calm enough to make it back, which was the best that I could do at that point. The shock of the rejection had started to wear off and, in its place came self-disgust. How could I have possibly been that stupid? I told everyone that they were wrong, when in fact, they were right. They all warned me and I sat back all smug thinking about how lucky I was. Meanwhile Doctor Evil was planning my heartbreak from the beginning. How could anyone be so cruel and uncaring?

Because while I thought we had something special, it was actually the opposite. Ryder gave zero shits about me or my feelings. He left here in his fancy car, with his fancy job, while I melted into a giant puddle of regret and heartbreak. This is not the way it should be. I would never,never, let anyone treat me that way again. I was going to be smarter and I was done crying.

* * *

Later that night…

Okay, maybe done with crying wasn’t really in the cards. Melody plopped down on my bed and looked at me partly as if I were an alien or disgusting bug, and partly as if she pitied me. What did I care? I pitied myself at that point.

My sister handed me a tissue.

“Pull yourself together, Abby.”

I took the tissue and wiped my nose.