48. Chapter Forty Three
Chapter Forty Three
Wade
That was nothing compared to this.
The parking lot begins to empty. Jae leaves first, chasing after Colt, who'd just had his entire world ripped out from under him because of secrets I'd buried for far too damn long.
A familiar hand finds mine from behind. I know by the way it fits around mine that it’s Maeve.
I look at her over my shoulder, and whatever she sees in my face makes her stop.
I don’t have any words at the moment, so I hold her gaze long enough to say please and I’m sorry all at once.
Her fingers slip from mine, and she turns back toward the bar with Iris following like a shadow behind.
Leaving just me and Ruby standing under the neon sign.
Ruby hasn’t moved.
She’s still on the ground where she put herself. The sobs have gone quieter, but they’re still coming. Her hair has fallen across her face, sticking to her wet tears. The performance is gone, and what’s left is a woman sitting on the cold ground with nothing left to hold onto.
In this moment, staring at her, there’s a part of me that recognises her, parts of the woman she was before trying to peek through.
I loved this woman once, when we were very young. So seeing her like this, even after everything she has just done, breaks me a little more than I would like to admit.
I crouch down beside her.
“Ruby.” My voice comes out quieter than I intend. “Hey.”
She flinches at the sound. Her head lifts slightly, hair falling back from her face.
Up close she looks worse than I initially thought.
Her skin is thin and blotchy. The veins in her hands are raised and dark where she's gripping her own arms. Her eyes, when they find mine, are glassy and unfocused in a way that has nothing to do with the crying.
She needs help.
“Come on.” I get a hand under her arm gently, not forcing, just offering. “Get off the ground.”
She lets me help her to her feet; no fight left in her. I keep a hand at her elbow, and she sways slightly once she’s upright.
“I'm calling someone,” I say.
“Don't.” Her voice is wrecked. “Please.”
I look at her for a long moment. Then I pull out my phone and dial for a taxi. Ideally, I’d like to call an ambulance, but she’d bolt. This is the best option, to make sure she gets to wherever she needs to be safely.
While I wait for the call to connect, I turn back to her. She's standing with her arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing, her breathing slower now.
“Ruby,” I say quietly. “You’ll get something out of all this, ok?
Enough to get you on your feet again and maybe get some help, if you choose to use it that way.
Fighting it in court will cost you more than you'd ever get back.” I pause, letting her read that this is not a threat, but the truth.
“Sign the divorce papers, Ruby. Let this be done with no more fighting.”
For a second, I think she's going to come back with some last reserve of energy, but she closes her eyes instead.
“I didn't mean to say it,” she says finally. Barely above a whisper. “About Colt. I wasn't going to—” She stops. Her throat moves. “I wasn't going to use that.”
“Well, it’s done now.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes open. They're red-rimmed, the glassiness shifting into something that looks almost like a real person underneath it. I believe that she means it, but regardless, I’m the one picking up the pieces again, so I don’t have the words for her.
I give her a weak attempt of a smile and leave it there.
The car I called turns into the lot a few minutes later, headlights sweeping across the gravel. I walk her to it, one hand light on her back, the same way I might guide an elderly lady to her armchair.
Ruby folds herself into the back seat and sits there, staring at her hands in her lap. I lean down to the window before it closes.
“Get some help,” I say. “I mean it. Not for me. For you.”
She doesn't answer, but I pray she listens. The window slides up, and the car pulls away. I stand there, watching the taillights disappear until there's nothing left but the empty lot.
I walk back through the front doors of The Lone Coyote, standing at the threshold to scan around. The night has carried on without us. The music is still loud, the crowd still rowdy, the whole bar carrying on with their evening.
I find Maeve near the bar.
Her arms are folded tight across herself, perched on a barstool, eyes moving over the crowd but never settling. She keeps rubbing at her wrist, skin gone red from it, working at it like she can rub the night away if she's persistent enough. She’strying to hold herself together. I can see it.
“Maeve.”
She spins around, sliding off the stool. I close the distance without thinking, reaching for her in that way I’ve been able to for these past six months. I just want to comfort her. Tell her this isn’t on her. Because I know Maeve, and I know exactly where her mind is right now.
Maeve steps out of my reach. Her head shakes slightly as those blue eyes I’ve come to memorise start to glaze over.
I drop my hands. The space between us feels enormous, despite it being only a few steps.
“It ain’t your fault, angel,” I say quietly. “None of it. It’s mine. I started this mess, and I should’ve handled it a long time ago.”
Maeve looks like she doesn’t know how to approach me, and her voice comes out so careful it hurts to hear. “Are you okay?”
Damn this woman.
After everything tonight. After being dragged through every ugly piece of my drama, she’s still standing here asking if I’m alright.
“No,” I admit. No point dressing it up, not with her at least. “No, I’m not.”
She holds my gaze for a moment before dropping her eyes to the floor. “I should go…”
She turns, but I reach for her before I can stop myself, catching her hand long enough to make her pause. I can see the blame she’s putting on herself, the way she’s holding her breath, waiting for my next move.
“Please, Maeve. Talk to me.”
Iris appears at Maeve's shoulder, her purse hanging from one hand. She gives me a look that's part sympathy, part warning. “Maybe not tonight, Wade,” she says softly.
My eyes have not left Maeve’s; I’m waiting for something, anything that tells me this isn’t as bad as it feels.
But when she finally looks away, the ache in my chest sharpens.
For a second, I think she might turn back, but Iris guides her away from the bar, disappearing through the door moments later.
I drag a hand down my face. If I stay here another minute, I'm going to come apart where everyone can see.
The ranch is a ghost town by the time I get home.
I turned down the lift back with the others and chose to walk instead. I needed it. Needed the cold air in my lungs and the quiet around me so I could be alone with my thoughts.
My phone has been in my hand for most of the walk. Maeve’s messages are open. I keep scrolling back through them slowly, dragging all the memories back up, trying to dull this burning dread that’s been sitting in my chest since the parking lot situation.
I hold onto all the small moments together. The ones that were just ours. When we could pretend the world didn’t exist. It’s only been a week, and I already miss all of it. The teasing. The check-ins. The way she’d know I was having a bad daybefore I ever said a word.
I can't remember exactly when it stopped feeling temporary. Just know that somewhere along the way, she stopped feeling like someone passing through and started feeling like someone who belonged. Not just in the house, not just on the ranch. In my life.
And now it’s over.
I swipe off the screen, and Colt’s name sits underneath hers, making my chest pull tighter for the hundredth time tonight.
Tonight has probably taken whatever chance I still had and absolutely disintegrated it.
Still, I’ve got to keep trying. Because he’s my son—blood or not—and he is going to need to be reminded that now more than ever.
I type. Delete it. Type again several times before finally forcing myself to hit send.
Wade: I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I understand that. I’m sorry. For all of it. I’ll give you space if that’s what you need, but I’m here when you’re ready. Love you, son.
Phone goes straight into the back pocket as my porch light comes into view, that dim hue guiding me in the dark. It feels eerie out here tonight, nothing like the usual warm feeling I get when coming back to the cabin after a long day's work.
I head straight to the kitchen, knowing sleep won’t be taking me under anytime soon. So, I do what I always do—grab a glass, grab the whiskey, and take myself out to the porch.
The chair takes my weight the same it always does, worn into shape after too many late nights out here.
Out past the fenceline, the cattle move softly through the dark.
The barn sits black against the horizon.
Above it all, the stars stretch wide over the land while the moon catches the amber in my glass.
I take a pull, feeling the burn all the way down. Closing my eyes just a second to really feel everything. When they snap open again, I look out over the land, wondering what my father would make of this mess.
He knew exactly what Ruby was like, knew it long before I was willing to admit it.
There were years he was more present for Colt than I was, which is something I’m not proud of, but it’s the truth.
When I told him the ranch needed to go to Colt, that I’d run it until he was ready but needed to be his, the old man never questioned it. Didn’t even ask for an explanation.
We both knew Ruby would come back someday.
Just didn’t think she’d ever stoop this low, taking away the one person who I have loved more than anything in this life. Colt. The look on his face flashes in my vision so clearly, like I’m replaying a movie in high definition. It’s going to stay with me, that’s for sure.
He’s not my blood. I’ve known that since before he was born. Loved him before he even arrived. It never mattered to me. I knew he was going to need someone steady in his corner, to protect him throughout his life.
I’ve been there for every scraped knee. Every bout of sickness. Every horse riding lesson. Every damn second, raising him. I was there for all of it, even when I was acting like a dick on the surface.
Maybe I should have told him sooner, before Ruby ever had the chance to weaponise it. But I thought that she loved him enough to never go there. Even at her worst. I was wrong.
Now I have to figure out how to look him in the eye and explain that I kept it from him out of love, not deception. That there is a difference. And pray that he's in a place where he can hear that.
But then, how am I supposed to explain Maeve? That came from a place of selfishness… and love.
I didn’t mean to fall in love with her. It just happened quietly, even taking me by surprise. And by the time I noticed that she’s become a part of my everyday and a part of my very being, I was in too deep.
My hand tightens around the now-empty glass. I lean forward, forearms resting on my knees, staring at the worn floorboards beneath my boots.
Tomorrow I’ll have to look Colt in the eye and pray to God he looks back. Pray we don’t go straight back to where we started, with him shutting me out and building those walls between us all over again.
And Maeve… Christ.
I already know how that conversation ends.
Goodbye.
Because that’s who she is. If she thinks leaving is the right thing to do, she’ll do it, no matter what it costs her. And I’ll have to let her go despite every part of me knowing she belongs here—with me.
I dread the arrival of tomorrow, because tomorrow means facing the very real possibility that the two people I love most in this world might slip through my fingers. And if I lose them both… I don’t think I’ll survive.