It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

gripping my neck, and there’s a struggling sound coming from him, as if he’s
trying not to cry.
It takes me back to the last night he hurt me. The apologies he was
whispering as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m
sorry.
My heart is shattered, because Ryle hasn’t changed at all. As much as I
hoped he had, and as much as I know he wanted to, he’s still the same man
he’s always been. I somehow held on to a sliver of hope that he had become
stronger for Emmy, but this is absolute confirmation that I’m making the
right choices for her.
Ryle is clinging to me like I can make this better, and at one point in time I
thought I could. He’s a broken man, but he isn’t broken because of me. He
was broken before he met me. Sometimes people think if they love a broken
person enough, they can be what finally repairs them, but the problem with
that is the other person just ends up broken, too.
I can’t afford to allow anyone to break me anymore. I have a daughter I
need to be whole for.
I gently press my hands against his chest and urge him back into the
hallway. When I’m finally in a position where there’s enough space between
us to shut the door, I close it and lock it, and then I immediately call my
mother and tell her to put Emmy in the car and meet me at the park. I don’t
want them to be at her house if Ryle still plans on showing up there.
After I end the call, I move with purpose through my apartment. If I stop
and allow myself to get lost in what just happened, I might cry. I don’t have
time to cry right now. I get dressed to go to the park because I need to be
present for my daughter in every way that I can be.
Before I walk out the door, I grab the note Atlas wrote me and tuck it into
my purse. I have a feeling his words are going to be the only bright spot to
this day.
My premonition is coming true. I hear a loud clap of thunder as soon as I pull
into the parking lot of the park. There’s a storm brewing to the east, and it’s
heading this direction. Fitting.
It’s not raining yet, though, so I scan the playground until I spot my
mother. She’s holding Emmy, and they’re going down the slide together. She