Chapter 45 Ruth
Chapter forty-five
Ruth
Two days later—or maybe three, who knows—I hear a key click in the lock of my front door, and then quiet voices creeping closer.
“What in the absolute fuck is going on?” From my spot on the sofa, I mumble the words into the blanket shrouding my entire body, and I hear the distinct sound of both paws and feet on the laminate flooring as whoever has walked in kicks off their shoes.
Whoever the intruder is, at least they’re polite.
And they have a key, which is something only four other people have.
Amie, Katy, Paloma, and I all have keys to each other's homes. It began years ago, as a way to keep our spare keys safe, but now with Maisy spending time at all of our houses, and all of us taking care of her at Amie’s house, we’ve made the unanimous decision to keep the keys.
All four of us keep them on a separate keyring, with individual coloured key caps for each of us. That was Katy’s idea.
Jay also has a key to my flat, although he rarely uses it. Much like me and the girls, he would rather I choose to let him in, than just barge in without warning.
Except for today, it would seem. I hear his rough baritone as he whispers something to Pup, whose harness immediately jingles and then quietens, as I assume he settles down somewhere.
“Rooey?”
“Roo, where are you?”
“Get your skinny little arse out here, Bevan, this is an intervention.”
Jay. Katy. Amie.
“Roo, come on, I need a wee.”
As expected, Paloma is here too. All of my best friends are here, and all of their first words to me encapsulate each one of them perfectly.
A rush of tears sting my eyes. The normality of it all.
The simplicity. The way the world continues to turn for them, effortlessly, whilst it crumbles around me.
“I’m here, idiots,” I mumble. My voice is rough and scratchy, unused for several days.
I lift an arm, poking it out from inside the blanket fort I’ve built for myself on the sofa.
It might be summer, but after spending so much time cocooned, my brief emergence has my wrist immediately cold, and goose bumps rising on my skin, and I pull my hand back in.
I poke my head out, leaving the blankets pooled around my shoulders.
“Oh, Roo.” Katy is the first to cross the open-plan living space, using her knee and the side of her thigh to test for a safe space to perch among the mountain of pillows and blankets covering me.
“Don’t start the intervention without me, I’ll be back in a mo.”
“Lo, I haven’t restocked the toilet paper, it’s in the cupboard next to my bedroom door.”
“Got it!” Lo calls out over her shoulder as she offers a thumbs up.
Pup trots over as soon as Jay makes himself comfortable on the end of the sofa near my feet.
Two paws appear on the edge of the cushion, with the kind of pressure that suggests a small jump might be imminent, and I raise a brow in my brother’s direction.
He might allow Pup to take liberties like hanging out on the sofa, but I definitely do not want furry furniture.
“Down, Pup. Settle.” Pup looks suitably repentant, letting out a tiny whine as he immediately settles by Jay’s feet with his head on those enormous front paws.
“It’s because he’s always on the sofa at home,” Katy says with a roll of her eyes. “We weren’t going to let him, but apparently, we’re both weak for puppy eyes.”
I let out a tiny chuff in lieu of actual laughter.
“Roo, what the fuck is going on in your fridge?” Amie calls from the kitchen. “There’s nothing in it.”
“What’s going on, love?” Katy, again. She leans into me, lifting her socked feet off the ground and resting them in my brother’s lap as she presses her body to mine.
Her blonde hair is soft and cool, and her sweet perfume is a pleasant reprieve from the musty smell attached to my blankets after four days of barely moving from the sofa.
I don’t know what to say. Words have eluded me for days—the days I’ve spent holed up on my sofa, ignoring the buzzing of my phone, ignoring the calls and messages from everyone I love. I’ve hardly even spoken to my husband.
Everett.
I miss him with the kind of ferocity I never anticipated, even after acknowledging that I had fallen in love with him.
Even after agreeing to marry him on a whim, after spending more and more time with him, after loving him so much my heart all but exploded and began to beat only for the cowboy from Texas.
Just at the thought of him, the dam breaks, and in Katy’s arms, I sob.
Amie places four mugs on the coffee table and slides to her knees beside us, wrapping both me and Katy in her arms. Paloma hurries across the room to join the hug, and barely a minute later, I feel Katy peel herself away from me and Jay’s embrace envelop me.
He lifts me effortlessly into a sitting position, hugging me into his chest, and I’m transported back to my teen years, being held by my big brother as I cried before every one of his deployments.
“Talk to us, Ruth.” Amie’s warm hand reaches for mine, gripping it tightly. Katy, who was briefly relegated to the floor, scrambles up to tuck herself against my other side, and Paloma huddles closer, her long arms surrounding Amie as she reaches for me.
“I’ve ruined everything,” I whisper into Jay’s chest.
“Roo…” Katy presses herself against me, squeezing me in the kind of perfect hug only Katy Keller can give.
“Is it Everett?”
“Where’s your phone, babe? Let me give him a piece of my mind.”
“Calm your tiny tits, Lo.” Amie wriggles herself free from Paloma’s hold. “Roo, talk. Is this about Everett?”
Jay holds me with one arm whilst his other moves around, and Katy wriggles before settling again. It’s only when I hear Everett’s voice fill the room that I realise my brother handed his phone to his girlfriend, and she used it to call my husband.
“Jay? What’s—Katy? Where’s Ruth?”
“We’re staging an intervention,” Paloma announces from the floor. Everett can’t see her in the frame. “What’s going on?”
“Ruth, honey…” His voice cracks as Katy settles against my shoulder, and I peek out from Jay’s chest to see his stricken face staring at his phone screen. “Baby girl, what’s going on?”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Amie murmurs to no one in particular. She reaches forward, gripping my chin and turning my head to face her.
“Ruth, you can’t go on like this. Talk to us, babe. Talk to Everett. Talk to someone.”
“Katy?” Everett’s voice is hoarse. “Can you pick me up at the airport?”
“One of us will be there,” Katy promises quietly. “Just text us when you have the details.”
I must have fallen asleep in Jay’s arms. When I open my eyes, they feel like sandpaper, but I’m still safely cocooned in my brother’s embrace, surrounded by the familiar scent of the same cologne he’s worn since I was a child.
I peek out into the room. Paloma is on the floor, legs stretched wide in some kind of impossible-looking split with her torso touching the rug.
Katy is in the corner of my sectional sofa, feet tucked up beneath her, reading something on her e-reader and smiling softly to herself.
Amie is leaning against the breakfast bar, earbuds in her ears, talking quietly at her phone—I assume she’s on a video call with Cam and Maisy.
“Goodnight angel girl, I love you.” Pause. “She’s okay. Well, she’s not okay. But I think she will be.” Then, a moment later: “Yeah, connecting through Charlotte. I got him premium on the second leg. He’ll be here in the morning.”
I turn my head slightly as snippets of Amie’s quiet conversation filter across the room. Jay tightens his hold on me.
“You awake?” I feel his words more than hear them, with my head pressed into his chest.
“Nope.”
“Tough shit.” He adjusts us so I’m sitting up on my own, rather than leaning into him to support myself. “You’re not doing this, Rooey. I won’t let you do this to yourself. Or to your friends.”
“Too late.”
“Ruth.” Jay’s tone is something akin to a warning, but there’s a quiet desperation in there, too. When I lift my gaze to meet his eyes, I see it in his expression. The same kind of pain I felt when he shut down after his leg injury, mixed with the desire and dogged determination to fix it.
My brother huffs out a sigh before wrapping his arms around me again, pulling me back into his chest and dropping his face to my hair.
I take slow, even breaths, and I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m sleeping, because he relaxes his hold on me and twists his hips lightly, trying to adjust his position without jostling me too much.
I know he thinks I’m asleep when I hear the whisper that comes from his lips.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it, Roofus. I’m sorry I’ve failed you.”
You didn’t fail me, I think to myself. This mess is one of my own making, and in spite of it all, my best friends have supported me along the way.
Will they support me now, when I tell them I quit my job and don’t have a backup?
God, I hope so. I keep that hope close as I drift back into the sleep Jay thinks I’m already in.