It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

Ryle’s jaw is twitching. His expression is blank otherwise. He looks at
Allysa and then at Marshall. The tension in the room is palpable, but so is the
support. I could cry, I’m so grateful for them.
I could cry for all the victims who don’t have people like them.
Ryle stews over everything for a long beat. It’s so quiet, but I’ve made the
point I wanted to make, and I’ve made it obvious that there’s no room for
negotiation.
He eventually scoots back from the table and stands. He brings his hands
to his hips and stares down at the floor. Then he drags in a long inhale before
he heads for the kitchen door. Before he leaves, he looks back toward us, but
makes eye contact with none of us. “I’m off this Thursday. I’ll be here
around ten if you want to make sure Emerson is here.”
He leaves, and as soon as he does, my shield of armor collapses, and I
shatter. Allysa puts her arms around me, but I’m not crying because I’m
upset. I’m crying because I am so, so relieved. It actually feels like we
accomplished something significant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you
two,” I say through my tears, hugging Allysa.
She runs her hand over my hair and says, “You’d be so miserable, Lily.”
We both start to laugh. Somehow.