It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

“Thank you.” I lean against the ledge, waiting for him to speak up about
whatever is bothering him.
“Did you just get back from a date?”
“I had an event.” I go along with Allysa’s lie. There’s no point in being
honest with him, because it’s too soon to know if this thing with Atlas is
going anywhere yet, and the truth would only upset Ryle more. I press my
back against the ledge and fold my arms over my chest. “What is it, Ryle?”
He waits a beat before he finally speaks. “I’ve never seen that cartoon
before tonight.”
Is he just trying to make small talk or is he angry about something? I’m
confused by this whole conversation.
Until I’m not.
I swear, I can be such an idiot sometimes. Of course he’s upset. He once
read all my journal entries. He knows how much that movie means to me
after having read everything I wrote about it, but I guess now that he’s finally
seen it, he’s connected the dots. And by the looks of it, he’s added some dots
of his own.
He turns now, facing me with an expression full of betrayal. “You named
our daughter Dory?” He takes a step closer. “You chose my daughter’s
middle name because of your connection with that man?”
I feel an immediate pulsing in my temples. That man. I break eye contact
with him while I think of how to properly communicate this. When I chose
the name Dory as Emerson’s middle name, I didn’t do it for Atlas. That
movie meant something to me long before Atlas came into the picture, but I
probably should have thought twice about it before going through with
naming her that.
I clear my throat, making room for the truth. “I chose that name because
the character inspired me when I was younger. It had nothing to do with
anyone else.”
Ryle releases an exasperated, disappointed laugh. “You’re a real piece of
work, Lily.”
I want to argue with him, to further prove my point, but I’m getting
nervous. His demeanor is bringing back every fear of him I’ve ever held. I try
to defuse the situation by escaping it.
“I’m going home now.” I start to head toward the stairs, but he’s faster
than me. He moves past me, and then he’s in between me and the door to the