Chapter Seventy-Four
Ruby
Later that Morning
Inside, I drop my purse behind the desk and power on the computer, the hum filling the space. The phone rings. I answer. My fingers move across the keyboard without hesitation, the rhythm steady, familiar.
Xavier is at a job site this morning. He didn’t text. Didn’t push before he left. Just… left. And I don’t like it. It hurts. It hurts more than I’m willing to admit.
Sure, he fought against me pushing to end things, but not because he loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me. No…. It’s because he wants to be the one who ends it.
He doesn’t do relationships. He makes the rules. He says when things are done. And if I wait that long, he’ll destroy me, and I’ll never find myself again.
The phone rings again. “Cole Construction.”
Silence. My fingers stop over the keyboard. Then I hear it. Breathing. Slow. Deliberate.
“Who is this?” The breathing stops. Click. I lower the receiver slowly, a chill crawling over my skin. Third time. Once at the gym. Twice here. Wrong numbers don’t follow you to a new job.
Don’t be dramatic. People call the wrong number all the time.
I keep my focus on the screen. Answer another call. Type another note.
I’m starting another pot of coffee for Mr. Cole when the doorbell jingles. Dr. Carter steps inside, boots dusted with dried mud, jacket zipped high against the cold.
After greeting each other, she sets her gloves on the counter, leaving that familiar hint of peppermint in her wake. “I was out at your dad’s place earlier this week. Had to check on a calf that got itself tangled up in a fence.”
My brows lift as I walk toward her. “You were?”
“Mm-hm.” Her dark eyes meet mine. “Your dad said he hadn’t seen you in a while.”
I wince. I rarely go more than a few days without seeing him. But things have been…. Hectic. Intense. And not just between Xavier and me. I haven’t told him about someone leaving me notes. Following me around.
I lean back against the counter. “Yeah. It’s been a couple of weeks.”
“Busy?” She arches an eyebrow and then scans the room as if she’s searching for something. I frown. Or someone.
“Something like that.”
She watches me, not pushing, just letting the implication sit there. “You should get back out there. He enjoys your help, and it’d do you good.”
The paperwork in front of me is a blur. “I’ve been meaning to.” I have. Just not enough to go.
“Still thinking about vet tech?” she asks, casual. “I saw you stop by the other day when I was working.”
“Yeah. I’m thinking about it.” Saying it out loud feels good. Gives me something positive to look forward to.
She nods, approving. “Then you need to get your hands dirty again.”
A faint smile tugs at my mouth. “I grew up in it. I think I remember.”
“Muscle memory. It doesn’t go away, does it? Xavier around?”
“No. He’s at a job site.”
“I need to get with him about adding on to the clinic. Can you have him get with me on an estimate?” She taps a folder she brought in.
“I will.”
“Here are some plans I drew up for him to go off of.” She hands me the folder and walks to the door, the bell jingling once before it shuts behind her.
Dr. Carter is chastising me about not seeing Dad for a while. I should’ve realized it sooner, but I’ve been busy. My head preoccupied with everything going on. Quitting the gym. Working for Cole Construction. Home renovations. Weird notes and gifts. Xavier….
I move back behind the desk, pulling the paperwork closer, pen tapping lightly against the folder as my thoughts drift. Next semester. Something that belongs to me. Something that doesn’t depend on anyone else showing up. Or staying. Something that’s all mine.
Mr. Cole steps out of the back workroom, glasses low on his nose. “Heard Dr. Carter in here.” He tips his head toward the folder. “She needs some work done?”
“Yes, sir.”
He flips through the drawings, grunts once. “We’ll take it. I’ll have Xavier call her.” He pauses for a moment, then says, “You’ve got this place running smoother than it has in years.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “I try to stay on top of things.”
He studies me like he’s deciding whether to say more. “You do great work.” Simple. Direct. No fluff.
“Thank you.” Mr. Cole doesn’t give out compliments, so his praise makes my chest tighten.
He clears his throat like that’s enough and heads back to his desk.
I sit down, fingers hovering over the keyboard. School. A career. Things I can choose. Things I can build without waiting for someone else to decide if they’re staying or going.