Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Ruth
My heart feels heavier than ever when I wake. I trudge through my morning in slow motion, dressing in my rattiest, most comfortable clothes, and choking down a piece of dry toast for breakfast. It feels like the appropriate kind of punishment for the last two weeks of my life.
I woke with a new kind of clarity. The understanding that if I want to rid myself of the rage and the pain that has me in its grasp, then I have to do the thing I fear. And so, I shove my feet into my shoes and pocket my keys.
The lights flick on in the window as I hammer my hand against the door.
Katy opens it as my fist is raised, ready to strike against the wood again.
A million words and thoughts swirl around in my head, and I can’t for the life of me straighten them out for long enough to figure out what to do or say next.
What I really mean to do is apologise for being such a tremendous bitch, but that’s not what comes out of my mouth.
“He’s the one thing that’s mine,” I say as she looks up to meet my eyes.
I know what she’s thinking. I know her too well.
She’s thinking that I have Everett. She’s thinking that Jay isn’t a possession, he’s a man, he’s not something I could or should own…
and she’s right. She’s looking at my oversized sweatshirt and worn out shoes and she knows I haven’t worn either since we were in university.
She probably also knows just how much my heart hurts right now.
She’s thinking I’m unravelling, and she might just be right.
Sometimes, having an empath for a best friend really sucks.
She moves towards me hesitantly, and then reaches out to pull me into her arms. I try to resist, but the truth is, I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her silly jokes and her earnest gaze. I’ve missed her summery perfume.
I’ve missed my best friend.
I can only resist for a moment before I let myself fall into her embrace.
“He’ll always be yours,” she says, pushing onto her tiptoes and resting her chin on my shoulder. Her arms squeeze around me. “He adores you, Roo.”
It takes a moment, but eventually, I lift my arms to return the hug.
Katy’s hugs have always been the best. Lo is too bony and angular, and Amie can squeeze a little too tight, fingertips leaving tiny round bruises where they’ve dug all the way in.
But Katy’s hugs are perfect. I feel the tension leave both of our bodies as we hold each other, and tears prick at my eyes.
“Is it serious?” I pull back, searching Katy’s face. If I had to describe her expression, I’d call it guarded optimism. She’s only quiet for a moment before more tears fill her eyes, and her lips twitch in that telltale way that says she’s fighting a smile.
“I love him,” she says, with the smallest of shrugs and a tiny smile threatening to lift the corners of her mouth, even through tears.
It’s as simple as that. She loves him. I haven’t spoken to my brother since I kicked him out of my flat ten days ago, but he said the same thing then, and in every message he’s left me since. He loves her.
“Okay,” I say, finally. “Okay.”
I hold Katy at arm’s length for another long beat, and then I back away, pulling the door closed behind me with a soft click.
I hear nothing from inside the house as I stand there for a moment before shoving my hands deep into my pockets and walking the few yards down the road to my car.
Before I even turn on the engine, I pull my phone from my pocket.
ROO
I’m sorry.
The response is almost immediate, and it sends a storm swirling into my belly that lifts half of the weight settled there just as soon as it swoops through.
Jay
me too. I love you rooey.
I beeline straight for the shower when I get home.
I feel like I haven’t slept for days—and I definitely haven’t had a proper shower since the post-flight rinse after I got home from Austin.
I take my time to shave and exfoliate, and by the time I emerge, I feel like a whole new woman.
Almost. I’ve just finished blow-drying my hair when there’s an insistent buzzing from the door intercom.
Katy’s face fills the small screen, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and I press the door release button without a word.
By the time she gets to me, I’m standing in the doorway of my flat.
It’s cold in the hallway, and I wrap my arms around myself for warmth.
I want to make a snarky comment about letting the cold in as Katy trudges slowly up the last few steps, but I don’t think we’re there yet.
She’s still in the same leggings and sports bra she was in when I saw her earlier, which isn’t unusual—she often dresses in lounge or athletic wear for comfort.
But her trainers and her pink face tell me she’s run all the way here.
I take a moment to take her in before stepping aside wordlessly.
The tornado of thoughts still swirls through my head, and instead of putting my enormous feet in my mouth again, I choose silence as the safest option.
Katy drops onto the edge of my sofa, sitting like an awkward guest. She’s never been awkward in my home.
I hate this. I want to rewind time, give myself a good talking to, completely change the way I reacted to the news.
I want to not be a massive bitch who runs her mouth without thinking and ruins one of the best things in her life.
“You love him,” I say. It’s not a question. Almost like clockwork, like I could’ve predicted it, a tear spills from Katy’s big brown eyes and makes its way down her face.
“I really do, Roo. I’m sorry I—”
“Please don’t.” I interrupt her with a whisper, holding up my hand and showing her my open palm.
I don’t need to know the nitty gritty of it.
I don’t want to. I just want my best friend and my brother back.
“I don’t need details. I don’t need apologies.
I just—promise me you’ll take care of him, K. ”
Fuck, please look after him. There’s no one in the world more special to me than my big brother. Not my parents, not my best friends, maybe not even Everett. Jay has been with me since day one. He’s been my guardian angel, my friend, my guide.
I never told anyone how scared I was when I heard about his injury.
I never told a soul how I trashed my flat that night, before drinking an entire bottle of tequila, so angry at the world, so terrified of losing him.
So desperately sad for his best friend’s family, but so selfishly grateful that my brother had survived what Caleb didn’t.
I drank until I made myself sick, and then I laid in bed for two days and turned off my phone, unable to speak to a single soul.
I didn’t even tell my best friends about his injury until two days later, when I emerged from my pity party.
“With everything I have, Roo. I promise.” We both sniff loudly as I pitch forward, landing on my knees in front of her.
I fling my arms around my best friend, and she slides down to meet me on the area rug, wrapping me in her arms and burying her face in my hair.
Her ponytail tickles at my nose as I squeeze her tightly, and I take several deep breaths, seeking comfort in the familiar orange of her perfume, before I whisper, “I’m sorry, Katy. ”
“I know, Roo. Me too.”