Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
I can’t listen to whatever comes next. My whole body has gone hot and shaky and there is a horrible pressure building at the back of my throat, so I turn and push past him, heading back down the hall towards the first bathroom I opened.
“Ruby.”
I ignore him and keep moving, one hand pressed over my mouth as the nausea rises so quickly that I barely make it through the door before dropping in front of the toilet and throwing up.
My knees hit the tiled floor hard enough to hurt, but I don’t care.
I grip the edge of the seat and retch again while tears sting my eyes, half from being sick and half because Bonnie is asleep in Josh’s bed.
In his bed.
After he ignored me for an entire day.
Josh stops in the doorway behind me, breathing like he has run the length of the house even though he has only followed me down a corridor. “Rubes.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stay crouched there, trying to get my breathing under control while another wave of nausea rolls through me. “Please don’t touch me.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
There is silence then, thick and awful, and I can feel him standing there. I know if I turn around and see his face I’m either going to start crying or start screaming, and I don’t want to do either. I want some dignity intact when I leave this house.
“I swear to you nothing happened,” he whispers, voice pleading. “She was upset. She needed somewhere to stay. I slept downstairs.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “You lied to me.”
“I panicked.”
“You lied right to my face.”
“I know.”
“And then you told me you can’t cheat because we’re not together.”
His breath catches behind me. “That was fucked. I know it was.”
I laugh once, wet and humourless, and furiously shove at the hair sticking to my cheeks. “Do you?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“You were trying to stop me from finding her.”
“Because I knew what you’d think.”
“What am I supposed to think? Your ex-girlfriend, who deeply affects you, is in your fucking bed, Josh!”
“And nothing happened!”
The betrayal is cutting me too deep. “I cannot believe you left me to sleep with your ex!”
“I didn’t sleep with her!”
“You left me!” I yell, so loudly it bounces off the marble. “I have been clinging onto the idea of us, pushing for it, but you never let me in. You’re always pushing me away and then you find out the worst thing I ever did and you run back here. To her?”
Josh stumbles away from me, eyes blazing. “I did not run back to Bonnie.”
“She is asleep in your bed!”
“I went to see James!” he roars, then seems to catch himself, dragging both hands through his hair while his chest rises hard.
“I left yours and went to the cemetery because I couldn’t get my fucking head straight, and Bonnie was there.
I didn’t call her. I didn’t ask her to come.
I didn’t even know she still went there. ”
I stare at him from the bathroom floor, my knees aching against the tiles and my mouth tasting disgusting. “What does that have to do with her staying here?”
“Because we talked.”
“About what?”
Josh’s expression closes off and I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I hate that fucking wall. The one I keep crashing into every time I get anywhere close to him. He won’t let me smash it down, no matter how hard I try.
“We spoke about James.” His hands clench and unclench at his sides. “About everything. Bonnie was upset after we talked. I wasn’t going to send her off on her own, so she came back here and we had a drink. That is it.”
“She just happened to end up in your bed?”
“She got drunk and threw up, Ruby. I put her upstairs because there’s an ensuite and I slept on the fucking sofa. I would never do that to you.”
“Oh my God.” I let out another laugh and push myself up from the floor, using the sink to steady myself while my legs shake.
“I feel like such an idiot. I’ve spent months convincing myself that if I kept showing up, eventually you’d stop being scared of whatever this is.
I’ve told myself you cared every time you pulled away because you always came back, and yesterday you literally promised me you would, but the second things got difficult you disappeared and somehow Bonnie ended up here instead. ”
Josh looks stricken by that, but I don’t have anything left in me to protect him from it.
I turn on the tap and rinse my mouth, avoiding my reflection because I already know I look horrific, then grip the edge of the sink while I try to stop myself from crying.
“You never tell me anything. You disappear inside yourself every time I get close. You shut me out.” My voice breaks, body shuddering.
“Yesterday you found out I tried to kill myself and looked at me like you’d never seen me before.
Now you’ve wound up here with her in your bed? ”
“Nothing happened!”
“You’re bullshitting yourself and you’re bullshitting me. The obvious truth here, Josh, is that you’re in love with her and I was the placeholder until you worked your way back to the person you actually want.”
Josh steps towards me, pain encompassing his features. “None of that is true.”
I feel delirious. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Josh.” A bleak sort of triumph courses through me. “You won’t let me in. You can’t. But you can let her in, you can confide in her, can’t you?”
“I’m not in love with Bonnie.”
“Then why does she have this hold over you?”
His shoulders lift a little. “She just does. It’s complicated, alright?”
“No. No, it is not alright. I can’t do this anymore.” I shake my head. It feels like something is dying between us, all that love and emotion decaying in the room.
Josh’s voice is low. “I told you I couldn’t be what you needed.”
I feel tears slide down my face, and I furiously try and bat them away. “All I needed was for you to be honest and you never are. All I wanted was you to want me the way I want you. I would kill for you to feel the same way about me that I do you.”
Josh’s entire expression contorts. “You have no fucking idea how I feel about you.”
A horrible laugh tears out of me because he is proving my point. “Exactly. I have no idea, Josh. That is the fucking problem.”
His mouth opens, but whatever is sitting behind his teeth stays there.
I watch him fight with himself, eyes wet and jaw tight, and some pathetic part of me waits for him to finally say it.
To tell me I’ve got this wrong. To tell me he wants me.
To give me one clear, undeniable thing I can hold onto after months of trying to translate every touch and look and almost-conversation into something that means he feels what I do.
“Ruby, there are things you don’t know.”