40. Rue
rue
. . .
the tragedy of time
Sitting in a towel on the edge of my bed, I laugh to myself as I listen to River shower as fast as he can. A bottle hits the tub with a dull thwack. He curses. Ceramic squeaks under his feet.
“Payback is coming, Ruin!”
When I hear his teeth chattering, my smile congeals. I’m not afraid of his retribution—quite the opposite—but I do feel a little guilty. I know exactly how freezing that water is.
The shower shuts off and the curtain screeches. My heart races with anticipation. I grab the edges of my towel, prepared to throw it off as soon as the bathroom door opens, then stiffen at the sound of multiple sets of feet crossing the porch.
Voices float through the kitchen’s open window.
“What if she’s sleeping?”
Dan.
“She’s not sleeping.”
Maya.
“River’s in there.”
“I don’t care.”
Dan coughs. “What if they’re…”
“I. Don’t. Care. I need to see her, Dan. I just need to.”
The waver in Maya’s voice hauls me to my feet. I throw on loose shorts and a T-shirt and run to the front door, unlocking it so fast I chip a nail. I yank it open and Maya throws herself at me, hugging me so tightly I wheeze.
“You bitch, I thought a bear ate you.”
Her voice is thick with tears. I hold her to me, briefly meeting Dan’s concerned gaze.
“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you take the saucepan or the crochet needles.”
I snort. “Trust me, they wouldn’t have helped.”
The floor creaks behind me.
Maya’s head lifts an inch, then lowers fast. She whispers, “Um, hello? How have you not hit that?”
I glance over my shoulder. River stands in the middle of the room, a towel held tightly around his waist. He looks embarrassed and awkward as hell, but there’s no denying his physical appeal.
After a month of regular meals and a more relaxed workout routine, I think he looks even better.
More like the River I’ve known for a decade.
Dan peers past us. “What the hell, man? Put the muscles away.”
River gives me a wince of apology. “I didn’t have clean clothes.” His eyes flicker to Maya. “You guys should spend the afternoon together. Book some massages, do some ecstatic dance or whatever. Bonding shit.”
Maya laughs and releases me.
I smile at her. “What do you think?”
She glances at Dan. He gives her an encouraging smile, but when she looks back at me, her eyes are teary again.
I reach out and squeeze her hand. “What do you need?”
“Would it be weird if we all hung out together? Just chill by the pool or something?”
“Not weird at all.”
Dan wraps an arm around Maya’s waist. “You know I’ll take every second with you I can get.”
An electric pulse down my spine warns me an instant before River’s chin lands lightly on my head.
“I’m in.”
Maya sweeps her fingers under her eyes. “Thanks, guys. I think it’s hitting me that we only have twelve more days, and I’ll be locked in my studio for most of it. The camping trip felt like our last chance to relax and have fun together.”
Dan kisses her temple. “Afternoon of relaxation coming up.”
River presses closer, snuggling his cock into my ass, and the contact sets off a chain reaction in my body that reminds me I’m tragically—once again—sans underwear. By the amusement lacing his voice, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“How about we skip dinner at the Lodge and use one of the grills by the pool instead?”
Dan nods eagerly. “And when it gets dark, we can do s’mores at the fire pit.”
Maya grins. “And play Never Have I Ever?”
The men groan.
The afternoon is idyllic. Perfect in a way that makes each moment feel both transitory and eternal. Not a single person intrudes.
The sun is golden and warm, the sky a placid blue. No wind. Glittering water. So much laughter.
For hours, I forget.
For hours, everything is simple. I’m his and he’s mine.
We swim and talk. Nap on the loungers. Eat and drink and laugh more.
I take mental photographs. Thousands. Click, click, click. The seasons of River’s smiles. The sun setting in his eyes. His waterlogged fingertips. The hair at the base of his neck as it dries curlier than the rest.
But time is a tragedy ever unfolding, destined to take more than it gives.
As River lights the fire pit for s’mores, Dan asks about his plans after PAC, and the first crack appears on my glass house of happiness.
I feel the brush of River’s gaze but pretend I’m enamored with the sunset. Mauve and orange dance on the horizon. Fading. Sinking. Savoring their final twirls before they’re smothered.
“I’m contractually obligated to do a photoshoot and some interviews for Claudia, so I’ll be sticking around a few more days than the rest of you.”
River’s voice sounds normal, but I’ve known him too long not to pick up on its underlying tension.
Maya laughs. “No shit?”
The flames kick up. He settles back into his chair with a wry smile. “That was the price for letting me crash your party, along with attending a gala in LA this fall. They’ll be auctioning off art to raise money for PAC to expand into other cities. I’m the, uh…”
“Meal ticket? Moneymaker? Gravy train?”
River grimaces. “Yeah.”
Dan laughs and rips open a pack of marshmallows. “I keep forgetting you’re kind of a celebrity.”
Maya snorts. “Kind of? He has half a million Instagram followers.” She steals a marshmallow and nibbles on a corner. “Is any of your art going to be in the auction, River?”
He nods. “I have a few paintings in storage that I’ll donate.”
“What about the one you finished last week?” asks Dan.
My eyes swing to River. His jaw is sharp, lashes at half-mast. The tendons in his forearms pop against his tanned skin.
He shakes his head. “Not that one.”
I speak before I think. “You finished a painting.”
Bronze eyes meet mine, warming as he smiles softly. “You finished a book.”
Dan passes around metal skewers and the bag of marshmallows. I seize the distraction, stabbing a fluffy white cube and leaning forward to angle it over the fire.
Maya’s chair creaks. “But you’re staying here, right? In the US?”
Dammit, Maya.
I concentrate on the fire, measuring time with the rapid thumps of my heart. Five thumps. Ten thumps.
“For a few weeks. I, uh, need to be in Copenhagen at the end of August for the opening of a four-month exhibition. I’ll be back here for the PAC gala in September, then Paris in November for an art fair.
After that, I’ll probably take some time off.
Wrap up loose ends in London, figure out what’s next. ”
Dan whistles. “That’s the life I want right there.”
Maya nods. “Same.”
Crack.
Another fissure opens.
Time slips. A memory whispers.
“What if we never know, Rue?”
“Know what, Teddybear?”
“What it’s like to measure time with good memories instead of bad ones.”
“We will. It won’t always be like this. One day, we’ll be far, far away, drinking margaritas on a beach with turquoise water tickling our toes.”
“Will you tell me that story? Our story?”
“Sure. Once upon a time, there was a prince—”
“Hey, I’m supposed to be a king.”
“I’m starting at the beginning!”
“Can… can you start at the end? When we’re already happy?”
“Yes. Yes, Teddy. Of course I will.”
“Rue?”
I blink at Maya. “Yeah?”
“Your marshmallow is done.”
Dan chuckles. “I think you mean cremated.”
As I examine the lump of crusted black on my skewer, a chunk falls off and hits the flames. The sound of it sizzling distorts until all I hear is shattering glass.
I throw my chair back and jump to my feet. The skewer drops from my fingers, clattering to the flagstones. Clumps of blackened sludge land on my sneakers.
As I turn toward the dark, someone touches my arm.
“Princess? Are you okay?”
His fingers burn.
“I—I have to go.”
I yank my arm free and run.
And run.
“Next time you run, you shouldn’t come back. Just keep running.”
“I’m not leaving you, Teddy. Not ever.”
“But it hurts, doesn’t it? To feel so free, only to end up right back where you started?”
“I don’t think of it like that. When I climbed the maple out front, didn’t I always come down to you? It’s the same with running.”
“But—”
“No. No matter how far I go, I’ll always run back to you.”
Darkness sinks through the trees. I fall, scramble to my feet, and keep running. Solar lights blur into streaks.
Lenny joins me, silent and swift, her fur occasionally brushing my leg. For a while, there’s relief. We’re shadows floating across the world, free of time and memory.
I don’t notice she’s herding me until it’s too late.
When I see the cabin and the figure sitting on the steps, my muscles lock in refusal. My sneakers skid across dirt and lose traction. As I topple, Lenny slams into me from the side. Instead of landing on hard dirt, I hit grass, roll a few times, and finally stop on my back.
Stars bleed into comets every time I blink. My body shakes. My throat burns. Past the roar of blood in my ears, I hear sounds. They’re coming from me, but I can’t tell if I’m laughing or crying or screaming.
Lenny whines.
I flop an arm in her direction, finding coarse fur. A wet nose presses to my cheek.
A man-shaped black hole takes over the sky. I want to fall into him and let his gravity take me; I want to scream until the world cracks with me. All because I’m relieved—and devastated—that he’s the one I’ve run back to.
“I’m here, Rue. I’ve got you.”
One moment, I’m weightless. The next, I’m sitting in a warm bath fully clothed. River sits behind me, his arms around me, his legs framing mine.
“You’re safe. I won’t let you go.”
His voice rasps like he’s said the words a hundred times. A thousand.
Time slips.
“His name was Teddy. He was born on the spring equinox, and he had curly blond hair and blue eyes.”