Chapter 11 Ruger
Ruger
I step into the kitchen. There’s no shift for me to pick up at the conservation office today. But there’s also no Wrenley, and maybe that’s for the best.
Ever since she told me the whole story about her ex, something in my brain has felt off.
Like I’ve emotionally crossed a line I can’t uncross.
I thought it would feel easier once she settled into the town a little more.
Instead, it’s making it worse. I can’t seem to stop picturing her in Alpine Harbor for longer than it takes to get her green card.
I scrub a hand over my face. I need to distract myself. I grab my jacket off the hook and head for my truck. Walter’s coffee shop isn’t far, and right now, a change of scenery and time with a friend feel like the only things that will keep me from unravelling completely.
Inside the coffee shop, a few locals are scattered around, sipping their drinks and chatting. I nod at a few familiar faces, then head straight to the counter, where Walter is scrolling on his phone.
Hey, I say once I’m in front of him.
Is $9,000 for a two-year-old quad that says it was only used on Sundays and has 280 engine hours a bad deal? he asks, not looking up from his phone.
Yes, I say, deadpan. Because whoever’s selling it definitely drove it every weekend for hours. You could get a new one for that price.
Damn. Walter sighs, setting down his reading glasses and phone. That’s what I figured.
I didn’t realize you were looking for a new quad.
I’m not—well, not really. The missus wants one so we can do some adventuring together, but honestly, I doubt she’ll drive it much, he explains. Coffee?
The usual, I say. Walter starts pouring, adding a generous splash of cream. You know, you’re always welcome to borrow mine if the two of you want to get out for a ride, I offer. Just say the word.
As generous as that is, I’d rather not borrow something that expensive. If anything happened to it, I’d feel awful. I know how much you use that thing.
I shrug. Things can be replaced.
Walter hands me the cup, and I raise a brow. To-go cup? You trying to get rid of me?
Figured you were just popping in between things with Wrenley. Need anything for her?
I shake my head. She’s working.
He blinks. Working? On the show, they’re not allowed to work.
You really need to find something else to watch, I say, shaking my head. She’s not working-working. It’s a volunteer thing. Audrey needs help with the school play costumes.
Walter hums, wiping down the counter. So now you have time for me since Wrenley is busy volunteering? he says, and I hear what he’s really saying: Why aren’t you at home ripping each other’s clothes off every second?
I’ve visited you since Wrenley got here, I point out. We played pool.
Walter raises an eyebrow. Wasn’t she busy that night too?
I open my mouth to protest, then remember that’s true.
Walter points at me. Ah! See? He waves a dismissive hand. I’m just teasing. If the missus wanted me home, I’d be tripping over myself to get there.
It’s hard to know what to say. Because when I’m home with Wrenley, we’re not having sex. But that doesn’t really matter to me. I just enjoy being with her.
I like that she’s building a life here, I say finally. We have our whole lives for me to ‘trip over myself getting home.’
Walter chuckles softly, then studies me for a second. You look… content, he says. Like you’re sure of your choice.
In a lot of ways, I am. Especially after hearing the full story of Wrenley’s ex. I want to see her stand back up after what that motherfucker put her through. Just taking this chance, coming here, starting over, she already is.
I nod. I am.
At least I’m not fully lying to Walter when I say that. I do want to help Wrenley rebuild her life. The only part that isn’t true is that the rebuilding doesn’t involve me further than a marriage certificate and eventual divorce papers.
But I can’t put Walter through that. I can’t put him in a position where he has to decide whether to stay quiet or report us.
It wouldn’t be fair. And I can see on his face how much it means to him to think I’m happy and building the kind of life he has with his wife.
When you have a marriage like theirs, it’s no surprise he wants the same thing for the people he cares about.
Which is why this whole thing needs to stay between me, Wrenley, and Remi.
Don’t let regular life creep in too quickly, he says. These early days are limited. You blink, and it’s ten years down the road—maybe with kids, maybe not—but either way, it gets easy to start feeling more like roommates than lovers.
He points at me with the rag in his hand.
Use this time to build a solid foundation so you can always find your way back to each other.
Thanks, Walter.
No problem, he says, dumping an old coffee filter into the garbage.
I take a sip of my coffee.
Personally, he adds, I’m a big fan of toys.
I drop my head because of course this conversation can’t end on an actual meaningful moment between friends.
Hear me out, he continues. They really spice things up. You can use them on each other. Together. Mutually. He leans across the counter. Want me to send you some links?
You know, Walt, I really don’t.
He shrugs. Your loss.
The door to the coffee shop opens just as I say, I’m going to go home and plan a delicious dinner for Wrenley, but I’ll keep what you said in mind.
I wouldn’t get too excited about planning dinner.
Walter and I both turn our heads to see Audrey walking toward the counter.
Why not? I ask.
Remi dropped by earlier and invited me and Wrenley over for dinner, she says. Something about famous veggie burgers.
Disappointment washes over me, which is ridiculous.
That sounds fun, I say, trying to keep my tone even.
Did you want me to tell Wrenley you were hoping she’d go home?
No, I say quickly. I want her to spend time with friends. I’ll just miss her.
If you’re sure, Audrey says slowly.
I’m sure.
Walter looks weirdly disappointed on my behalf. Like he genuinely thought after the sex-toy conversation, I’d be rushing home to spend the evening with my fiancée. It’s not particularly an expression I enjoy seeing directed at me.
Audrey turns to Walter. Can I get one small black coffee and another with lots of cream, please?
You got it, Walter says, reaching for the cups.
Watching Audrey order coffee for her and Wrenley is kind of nice. I like that people are learning about her and making space for her in their routines the way they would anyone else in town.
Fuck.
The fact that my mind can so easily place her as a fixture tells me I need to get out of here.
I should get going, I say, patting the counter. Thanks for the coffee. And Audrey? Take care of my wife tonight, yeah? Don’t let her get too drunk. She and Remi have a history.
I wink and offer Audrey a wave as she raises her brow and gives me a confused thumbs-up. Have a good day, Ruger.
I step out of the coffee shop, trying to outrun whatever the hell is happening inside me right now.
Back at the house, it feels emptier than when I left.
I toss my keys on the counter and wander aimlessly from room to room, trying to distract myself, but everywhere I look, there’s evidence of her now.
I’m a chronic bachelor, and my house is far from pristine, but I do tidy up enough to be presentable.
But I find that I don’t care to tidy up the things she leaves around the house for fear that it’ll be the last time I have to do it.
I scrub a hand over my face and wander down my hallway, this time stopping at the closet under the stairs. I open the door, and it’s a disaster. Cleaning it out isn’t something I want to do, but it will kill time.
I set my coffee down, pull out my phone, and put on some random Spotify playlist. A syncopated piano riff plays, my head bobbing to the music as I start digging through the mess of old coats, worn boots, and stuff I don’t even remember keeping.
I reach up to the top shelf and pull down a few boxes.
A bag tumbles and lands at my feet. I pick it up and run my hands over the smooth fabric of my sleeping bag.
I try to remember the last time I used it.
Early summer, maybe? A scouting expedition.
Maybe that’s what I need. To get away for a night in the outdoors and clear my head.
I pull out my phone and shoot Wrenley a text.
ME: Hey Wren
I’m going to go camping tonight.
I watch the screen, and after a beat, the three dots appear.
WRENLEY: Okay?
Am I supposed to go with you?
God, I wish she would, but it’d be selfish to ask. That’s not what this is.
ME: No.
You have your work and dinner with Remi.
I just feel like getting out before winter sets in.
WRENLEY: Ok.
Be safe.
I stare at the last two words.
Be safe.
I want them to mean something. I want it to be a sign that she feels this pull between us too, but I know better. That’s just me being foolish. And that’s exactly why I need to get away.