Chapter Thirty-One
These are feelings , not breaks .
Ruby
“Ruby?”
Sol’s voice. Not Elodie’s. Where is Elodie?
“Hey,” I sniff. “Is El working?”
The café is quiet. Only a few murmurs come from a back corner, and music playing softly from the ceiling speakers gives life to the place. If El’s working, she should be able to take a break.
“She’s off today,” Sol answers. “Can I… can I help?”
What is definitely not a tear, because I am absolutely not crying, falls from my eye. Why is nobody where they’re supposed to be today?
“That’s okay,” I answer. “Is she at home?”
“She should be. If you can wait just two minutes, I’ll walk you over, yeah?”
My head is shaking before he’s finished speaking. I swipe at my face. Stupid not tears. “You don’t have to do that. I can make it.”
There’s a crosswalk on the corner that’s usually safe. I speed-walked it to get over here. I don’t love taking it by myself, but I love even less the idea of inconveniencing Sol. It’s not his fault I showed up in speed walking whirl not crying and asking for his sister in the middle of his shift.
“Ruby, you don’t even have a coat on, and I saw someone run a red this morning at the stop light that you need to use. It makes me uncomfortable that you had to use it to get over here. I’m definitely not letting you go back through on your own in the cold without a coat. What kind of person would that make me? What kind of friend?”
I sniff, then wipe my nose with my… bare arm. Because my suit jacket is in the bin in Will’s office, covered in silly string, and my coat is hanging on the hook beside the door in my own office. It’s probably a miracle that I even have my cane on me, honestly.
It hits me suddenly that I am cold. Alone. Speed-walking through the streets.
Thank goodness I’m not crying, too. That would be embarrassing.
“Okay,” I whimper, then take in a shuddering breath. “If you’re sure it’s okay?”
Sol assures me that it is, then disappears into the back for several minutes before returning.
“Here,” he mutters, coming up beside me. “I have on a sweater. You take my coat.”
I want to argue. I really do. My bare arms, though? They do not.
I hand him my cane so that I can shrug into his coat. It swallows me, enveloping me in pine-scented warmth that is almost painful against my frigid skin. I pull the sleeves up and button myself in, then grab my cane.
“Ready?” Sol asks, gentle big brother voice in full effect.
I nod, holding out my elbow for him to lead. His arm hooks through mine, and then we’re off.
The walk is quiet, broken only by my sniffles and whimpers, which are surely caused by the cold and not by the crying I’m not doing. Occasionally, Sol asks if I’m okay. I tell him yes, obviously, but could we please walk a little faster? I’d like to have my breakdown with his sister, if possible, not him.
We speed up.
“Sol?” Elodie calls from the depth of their apartment. Her voice gets closer as she continues. “Aren’t you supposed to be at- Ruby? What’s wrong?”
I burst into what are, unfortunately, most definitely tears.
“Oh, hun. Here, come with me.” She guides me to her room and settles me, bawling, on her bed. “I’ll make you some tea, then we’ll talk. Okay?”
I nod, wiping snot on Sol’s coat sleeve. Then I cry harder, trying to relay an apology through my tears.
“That’s okay, Rubes. He’s got another coat,” Elodie assures me. “Let’s take that off and lay you down.”
That sounds like an excellent idea, so I follow her directions, tossing Sol’s coat at the foot of the bed and rolling into a sad, blubbering mess in the middle of El’s puffy quilt.
She leaves, and the muted sounds of conversation in the hall reach me, muffled through the door and my sobs.
Annoying.
I’m supposed to be not crying.
Minutes pass. A door outside the room opens and closes – Sol going back to work, I assume. A vintage tea kettle screams. And through it all, my stupid, stupid, stupid tears keep coming.
My face is bloated and swollen by the time Elodie returns. My breathing positively ragged.
What a stupid freaking mess.
She comes to me, perfect and wonderful and having never been mean to anyone in her entire life – except for Roman, but he deserves it for being a pompous jerk to her.
“Here,” she comforts, voice of an angel. “Sit up. Have a drink of this.”
I would just about rather tear out my own fingernails than sit up right now. I’m quite comfortable in my ball, nails digging into my skin as the beginnings of a headache form in my cry-stuffed brain. Still, I listen.
“That’s it. Chamomile,” she coos. “Your favorite.”
I nod, snuffling, and hold out my hands. Warm porcelain greets me as she places an antique, scallop-edged teacup on them, and steam wafts into my face. I hold it there, letting the heat offer comfort.
The bed dips beside me as Elodie sits, and her hand falls on my back, rubbing consoling circles.
My breath stutters. “He- he- he- he said,” I whimper. “He said he’d lay his face in my palms, and then he said make me see and I said in- in- insensitive and then he said these are my feelings and then he left and the- the meeting happened and he di-didn’t sit with me and Mr. Warrick had Secret Cupid done in braille and I’m an awful, terrible person!” I blubber, bursting into even more violent sobs.
Elodie hushes me. “Take a minute, Ruby. We have time. Focus on your breathing for now, yeah? In – one, two, three, four. Out – one, two, three, four.” Her hand moves with her counting. Down my back on in, up on out, and then repeat.
It takes seventeen cycles before I can breathe fully, the crushing weight of my suckiness abating. Thirty cycles before my tears turn from sobs to simple trails of wetness on my cheeks. Sixty before I try to talk again.
“El,” I croak. “He hates me.”
“Will?” she asks.
I nod, hugging my teacup to my chest.
She snorts. “I promise you, nothing you could possibly have done would make that man hate you.”
“You weren’t there, El. He was… He kissed me in the elevator, and it was…” I trail off, unsure how to exactly describe the best kiss I have ever received. Shaking my head, I decide not to. “And then later, he said he wants to kiss me more and that he loves me and that he wishes I could see that and I made a stupid blind joke and he’s mad at me, El. Really mad at me.” Tears well, and my lungs tremble on an inhale.
Elodie’s hand falls away as she shifts on the bed, moving until she sits in front of me. “Why’d you make the joke?” she asks, not unkindly.
I groan.
“I don’t know! I shouldn’t have. It was so stupid , El. He was right in front of me, being so… so raw , and I just. I didn’t know what to say or how to handle it and I wanted to kiss him so bad and he wasn’t kissing me and so I made a joke.” My fingers tighten around the porcelain, threatening to crush the delicate teacup.
Wouldn’t be the first thing I crushed today.
I’m so stupid .
“You wanted to kiss him?” she asks, and I blink.
“Elodie!” I moan. “Did you hear anything else I said? He’s angry with me. We had a meeting, and he-”
“He didn’t sit by you. I caught that. And he normally sits by you?”
I nod. “Always. He always sits by me so that he can pester me.” And maybe so that I can pester him, it seems, based on how many times I turned, expecting him to be there.
And then he wasn’t.
“Ruby…” she hesitates. “This is kind of an extreme reaction to a guy you can’t stand, don’t you think?”
I sniff. No, I do not think. This is a perfectly reasonable reaction to being suddenly hated and ignored by a man who has been professing his love for you for fifteen years – a love that it turns out might actually be real. Totally normal. Zero percent extreme.
I mean, he’s my friend. My friend who is in love with me. My friend who confessed his feelings for me in such a genuine way, to which I responded with a joke.
Why would I do that?
What is wrong with me?
“I think,” she continues. “That perhaps it’s time to admit that Will means a little bit more to you than you thought.”
More to me than I…
Oh.
Oh .
Oh no .
Elodie snickers. “You should see your face right now.”
“Absolutely not,” I declare. “Absolutely not .”
Tinkling laughter. “I don’t think you have a choice at this point, girlie. You’re bawling in your best friend’s bedroom in the middle of a workday over him. That’s, like, girlhood basics when it comes to lo-”
“Don’t say it!” I hiss. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Your eyes are all puffy and red, and you’ve got snot all over my blanket. You’re seriously going to try denial right now?”
I scowl.
I huff.
I shove my teacup at her so that I can cross my arms and pout.
“Coming to terms with it yet?” she asks, snorting.
“This is wildly inconvenient,” I complain, wiping angrily at my face to get rid of any trace of tears left there – and trace of evidence .
“Mm. Yes. Very inconvenient to be in love with a man who has loved you and only you for half his life. I can see how that would be a problem.”
“Thank you,” I sniff. “I appreciate your support in these trying times.”
She giggles as the mattress shifts, and the teacup clinks when she sets it on her nightstand.
“So,” she says, settling back in front of me. “He kissed you?” she squeals.
“Elodie,” I groan. “I am in crisis here!”
“Pfft. We solved your crisis. He’s in love. You’re in l-”
“Elodie!”
“- ove . Happily ever after. Boring. Lame. Status quo romance. I want to know the good stuff! How was the kiss?” She gasps. “Or was it kiss es ?”
She is sounding way more hopeful than my current emotional state can take.
“I’m taking a nap,” I decide. “And when I wake up, we will pretend this never happened.”
“When you wake up, I’ll have your wedding dress and florals picked out.”
“I think you’re forgetting that he hates me right now,” I remind her. “Hence the whole… thing.” I gesture to my face, which seems to be swollen to five times its regular size. I feel like one of those giant marshmallows you roast for s’mores.
“Will’s fine,” Elodie dismisses. “You can apologize, tell him you’re madly in love with him, and then have his babies. He’ll forgive you for sure .”
“I wish you’d stop saying that,” I grumble.
She laughs.
I do not.
“Call Will,” she tells me. “Apologize. Kiss some more. Give me a little niece I can teach to make bad decisions.”
Hmph. “I don’t wanna.”
“A nephew, then,” she suggests. “I’m not picky.”
I huff. “I can’t call him.” Ugh. “And also, I have to quit my job.”
She hums an amused noise, then leaves the bed.
I flop to the side, Disney princess-style lamenting my own idiocy.
I pop back up when Elodie’s phone rings through the speaker.
She didn’t.
“El?” Will answers, gruff. “Is she ready to go home?”
Excuse me!
“Yeah, if you’re done with work,” the traitor answers. “She said she wanted to talk with you.”
Excuse me!
A knock sounds at the door, and Elodie laughs. “It’s unlocked,” she says.
The phone beeps off at the same time that the front door opens.
I stand. Take a step toward the door, then remember that is the direction Will’s in. Turn around. Remember there’s only wall that way.
“I have nowhere to flight!” I panic.
“Guess you’ll have to fight then,” Elodie replies. “Fight for your looo-”
“Stop that!” I hiss.
“Stop what?” Will asks from the doorway.
“Nothing!” I squeak. “Hi! Hello!” I giggle nervously.
Giggle .
Someone shoot me.
Silence falls in the room. Likely because we are all very busy wondering if that noise actually left me , Ruby Camilla Vann. If they conclude that it did, I’m going to have to gaslight them into realizing that I would never do such a moronic thing as giggle.
Obviously.
“Welp!” I clap my hands. “Bye, Elodie! Thanks for hanging out!”
I scuttle toward Will, holding my breath as I approach. “Ready?” I chirp.
One. Two. Three beats.
His throat clears.
“I’m ready,” he answers.
“Bye, Ruby! Have a good talk!”
I push Will out the door, tucking one hand behind me with a singular finger raised.
Tinkling laughter echoes in my ear as we pause just long enough for Will to wrap me in his warm, cedar-scented coat before heading out into the cold.
“Let’s get you home,” he says. “Then we can talk.”
I gulp.
How… wonderful.