My heart hiccupped in my chest as my eyes met the blonde and ebony-haired women. “Nice to meet you,” I mumbled, shaking hands, feeling like some new product on a shelf.
“Let’s get you wine,” the not-Ruby one said, already pouring.
“Babe, Seb got this for you,” Nathan said, pointing at the gifts on the counter while giving me a look that said,sorry I didn’t warn you,clearly referring to the Ruby thing.
Dinner was lively. A little too chatty for me, but the food made up for it. Nathan was clearly in love in a way I hadn’t seen in years. And every time someone said Ruby, a jolt shot straight down my spine. Hillary’s Ruby wasn’t my Ruby—but that didn’t matter.
I sat trapped between Hillary's entourage with Nathan and her across the table, constantly kissing, holding hands, rubbing noses. I felt like throwing my napkin at him. The blonde, thankfully, was Alison, because if she were the Ruby one, I’d—well, I didn’t even want to imagine it. She and the black-haired Ruby leaned in, taking turns asking me questions while Nathan and Hillary were busy being sticky.
“So, you build rockets or ...?” Ruby asked.
“No. I mostly calculate stuff.” I watched her face fall, exactly the effect I wanted.
“And you’re from California? I was born there, but moved here when I was one,” Alison said.
“Great.” I smiled automatically and threw Nathan a look.
“You know Alison’s from California?” he said, clearly missing the awkward conversation because he was busy whispering something to Hillary.
“Yes, we established that,” I replied, sharper than necessary.
Just then, Hillary popped up at our side of the table, phone in selfie mode. “Nath, get over here, babe!” She leaned over me and her friends, angling the camera. Nathan joined, and she snapped a picture. I gave a stilted smile. I was there, but my heart and brain were elsewhere.
“Dessert time!” Hillary called.
I pushed my chair back. “Why don’t you three stay here, and Nathan and I can bring it?”
In the kitchen, Nathan grinned. “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to ambush you like that, but they’re really great women. What do you think about Hillary?”
“That she’s perfect for you. Really. You need someone like that. But Nath, I haven’t told you yet what happened with Ruby—myRuby.”
She wasn’t mine. She’d made sure of that. But my chest wouldn’t listen. Everything outside me was normal.Ibehaved normal. But inside, she was all I felt.
41
Ruby
I MANAGED TO MAINTAINsome version of calm for a week. The inn kept me busy—workers and Dave to wrangle, renovations in the final stretch, advertising to push, vendors to charm, my staff to prepare, art and décor to pick. My days were loud with tasks, and there was also my newfound nightly hobby—more a necessity than a hobby—I’d walk the beach for hours until exhaustion was heavy enough to knock me out after a quick shower.
I even drove to my mom’s house for an afternoon. Another day, I visited Aunt Amy in Riviera View to give her the renovation update. Anything to avoid sitting still long enough to think about Sebastian and the frostbitten pit where my heart should have been.
When my friends asked about him, I flipped the conversation. Encouraged Rio to monopolize it with wedding plans until she forgot to breathe, let Evangeline spam it with flower arrangement ideas, and Daphne to send eye-rolling emojis about all of us.
And through all of it, I was having phantom pain.
I missed more than his touch, his scent, his smile. I missed his steadiness. His eyes, the look in them. The way he saw straight through every flimsy thing I pretended not to feel.
No, I can’t see my life without him, I wanted to shout my response to Evangeline’s unforgotten question.But I have to. At least until we could go back to normal.
Yeah, I still believed in that. Or tried to convince myself I did. I kinda had to.
At one especially low point, I opened Tinder, my go-tolet’s-have-funapp. The low point wasn’t opening it. It was realizing I couldn’t even remember why I’d ever wanted to be with someone who wasn’t him.
Worse. I couldn’t picture myself with anyone else.
So what’s your problem, idiot?I yelled at myself in my head.Catch a flight to Houston, or at least pick up the goddamn phone.
What we had was supposed to be a fun ride, smooth and safe. But staring at the phone now felt like standing in a plane’s open door—parachute on, everyone swearing I’d be fine if I jumped. I wanted to. God, I did. But all I could see was the terrifying drop, the endless sky, the splintering impact waiting below. Logic whispered I’d survive. My gut swore I wouldn’t. So I froze, fingers inches from the phone, too unsteady, too not enough to bridge the distance between my heart and my courage, between me and him.
