Chapter 47 Ruth
Chapter forty-seven
Ruth
The six of us—seven, if you count Pup—sit quietly for a while.
Pup snores; sweet, snuffly little snorts coming from his nose with every breath, and both Paloma and Katy watch him with heart-shaped eyes as he adjusts his head on his paws.
Amie is engrossed in something on her phone, leaning against the breakfast bar, and periodically glancing around the room.
I’ve been sandwiched between Jay and Everett for over an hour, safe in the arms of two of the three men I love the most. Taking strength from them both as they hold a hushed conversation above my head.
I turn my face into my husband’s solid chest and he dips his head, pressing a kiss into my hair.
A quiet jingle cuts through the quiet as Pup wakes and stands, shaking his entire body before he trots over to Jay.
He stands at my brother’s feet and stares up at him, lifting and replacing a paw impatiently.
“Gonna go take him out,” Jay says, carefully pushing himself to his feet.
He takes a few unsteady steps, using the back of the sofa for support, before shaking out his right leg and continuing.
He crosses the room to kiss Katy before leaving, Pup hot on his heels.
As the door clicks shut, Amie looks up, and Paloma swings her feet from the sofa to the floor.
“Come on, then,” Paloma pats Katy on the thigh. “Let’s sort this place out.”
Katy washes the breakfast dishes while Paloma gathers my blankets from the sofa and throws them in the washing machine, along with my bedding.
She replaces the sheets with my favourite set—burgundy brushed cotton—and then wipes down everything in my bathroom whilst Katy does the same in the kitchen, before vacuuming.
Jay returns from walking Pup just as Amie looks up from her phone.
“It’s coming between three and five, Roo.
Go and shower, get some proper sleep. In a bed, please, not on the sofa.
And order yourself some real food. There’s thirty quid on the coffee table, that’ll get you a pizza.
Everett, make sure she eats something.” She’s like a drill sergeant, barking orders in her mum voice.
“What’s coming? What?”
“Groceries. Your fridge is empty, Roo.”
“But—how did you—”
“Ruthy…” Amie crosses the room and wraps me in a tight hug, her fingertips pressing hard into my shoulder blades. “We’ve been best friends for sixteen years. I know what your weekly food shop looks like.”
“I love you,” I whisper into her hair. She kisses the side of my head.
“Love you too, you big dumdum. Let Everett look after you now; we’ll get drunk and talk everything out soon, okay?”
I nod tearfully and she releases me from her embrace, only for Paloma to pull me into another hug. “Love you, Roo,” she whispers, kissing my cheek. As soon as I’m out of her arms, I’m tugged into Katy’s.
“No matter what, Roo, okay? I love you. We all love you.” Katy releases me after a long moment, and clips a leash to Pup’s service dog harness while Jay wraps his arms around me. I feel my pulse begin to slow as my brother drops his face into my hair.
“I know I’ve been a shit brother recently, but I always love you, Rooey.
You’re my Roofus.” At the same time—connected by blood, or by some kind of cosmic intent, I’m not quite sure—we pull apart just enough to tip our heads and make eye contact.
“Whatever comes next, Roo… you’ve got this. And we’ve got you. All of us. Always.”
“Thank you, Jay-Jay,” I whisper. “I love you. All of you.” I turn to my best friends, stood together near my front door. Katy runs back towards me, pulling me into one more quick hug, while Paloma holds up her hands in the shape of a heart and Amie blows me a kiss.
Then, the three of them leave, with Jay and Pup in tow, and Everett and I are alone.
We address each other at the same time and a small laugh bubbles out of my throat. He gestures for me to speak first.
“Ev… I’m sorry,” I say quietly. I take one hesitant step towards him, then two. “I’m sorry I’ve ignored all of your calls. I’ve been an awful wife.”
“You’ve been going through it, honey. You don’t need to apologise for that.” He closes the remaining distance between us in a single step, sweeping me into his arms. One hand tangles in my hair and he tugs lightly, using it to angle my face to his. “Don’t ever apologise to me for that.”
He leans down to press his lips to mine. It’s a chaste kiss; intimate and sweet, and a small spark comes to life and simmers quietly in my veins. Something I haven’t felt for a little while now.
“Come on, baby girl,” he says, tapping me on the hip. “Let’s get you showered. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell could use a nap.”
The last time Everett and I showered together, it looked a lot different to this.
We face each other under the spray coming from the enormous rainfall shower head.
Everett trails gentle kisses along my cheekbones and shoulders as he massages shampoo into my hair, and then rinses it with the handheld spray.
And he does it all over again before conditioning it.
He wraps me in the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find, warmed by the heated towel rack, and his kisses follow the same path again as he gently rubs my skin dry.
He helps me into clean pyjamas before we crawl under the fresh sheets.
And then—although I can sense that he wants to, and I know that I want to—we initiate absolutely nothing, and he simply holds me instead.
“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way.”
“You don’t have to apologise, Ev. It’s not you who made me feel like this.”
“I know.” His eyes are so desperately sad; a lump rises in my throat and tears prick at my eyes.
I didn’t think I had any more tears left to cry, but when Everett’s thumb brushes across my cheekbone, they spill over, unbidden.
“But that doesn’t make me any less sorry about it.
I love you. You are the sun, Ruth, and my heart beats for your light. ”
I lean in then, trapping his hand between our bodies, and crush my lips against his.
It’s been too long since I’ve felt the friction of his tongue against mine, the slide of our lips, the taste of his kiss.
It’s been too long, and I’ve been too sad.
But speaking the words out loud, letting them no longer be a secret like a noose around my neck, has me feeling lighter than I have for weeks. Months, even.
We kiss lazily for what feels like hours. There are no frantic hands tugging at clothing, just the safe security of Everett’s arms wrapped around me and his body pressed against mine.
“Is there anything you wanna talk about?” Everett asks gently. He has one arm slung across my shoulders as I rest my head against his chest, comforted by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His voice rumbles through his ribcage as he murmurs.
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
“That’s okay. Just start anywhere, we can figure it out together.”
“I never wanted to be exploiting loopholes for rich white dudes,” I say. I’m not sure where it comes from. It’s the truth—it’s why I resigned from Trenton Langley—but of all the things I thought I’d start with, this isn’t it.
“Understandable,” Everett says. He drops a soft kiss to the top of my head. “It just got too much, huh? Did something happen, or was it just time to move on?”
“I just couldn’t do it anymore,” I whisper. Tears sting my eyes, like I haven’t already cried enough of them. My throat tightens in that telltale way that says I’m about to break down and sob again. I inhale deeply, sharply, lifting my head just enough to catch Everett’s eye.
“That’s okay, honey,” he says. “You don’t have to.”
“But what—if I quit, what does that say about me?”
“It says you’re strong. It says you know your worth, and that you won’t jeopardise your integrity for some old white asshole who wants you to fuck the little guy to make the rich richer.”
A small hiss escapes me, a laugh not quite fully formed.
“I feel like a failure.”
“You’re not a failure, Ruth.”
“But I am. I failed at this. This job. This career.”
“Resigning from one job doesn’t mean you’ve failed at it. Sometimes, it’s just time to move on, honey. And knowing when that time comes? That’s not failing. It’s thriving.”
“But all I’ve ever wanted and worked for is to be a lawyer.”
“And you still are, Ruth. You still can be. You can get another job. You can work for yourself. Honey, just because you’ve left this job, it doesn’t mean you’re not a lawyer anymore.
You’re still Ruth. You’re still the smart, sexy, beautiful badass I fell in love with.
You’re just no longer working for an asshole. ”
“Maybe I’ll work for myself.”
“Sounds like a plan to me, baby girl.”
“Maybe I could—maybe I could help people like Reston. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll set up my own firm.”
“See, thriving, baby girl. Thriving.” He kisses my temple and then my lips, softly probing at the seam of my mouth with his tongue. I open for him with a quiet whimper, a sound he swallows greedily as he threads his fingers into my hair.
His large hands cradle the back of my head as we kiss, content to go no further—just me, and Everett, and our mouths. The firm muscle of his chest is warm beneath mine as his arms hold me tighter.