“No idea. I decided not to ask. But her friends gushed about you. Especially Alison.”
Thank goodness it wasn’t Ruby—their Ruby—or I might’ve started believing the universe had a dark sense of humor.
“I’m sure they’re great and all, but I told you—”
“Yeah, I know. Too soon,” he cut in.
“Not just too soon, Nath.”
“I get it, buddy. It stings.”
“Like a motherfucker.” My jaw tightened. I glanced out my side window at the cars sitting in traffic next to mine.
“You did your best. You can’t make someone—”
“I know, Nath. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s her loss,” he said anyway. It was the kind of thing people said when they didn’t know the other person—or how bigyourloss was. Ruby, despite the years of keeping it casual, was my soulmate. I felt it—that deep, bone-level connection neither of us had ever managed to have with anyone else. Neither of us had even looked for nor were interested in having it with anyone else. Because without even realizing it—we already had it with each other.
“Yeah, totally her loss,” he repeated.
“Nath.” He meant well, but I didn’t need the pep talk. I just needed the woman I loved, the only one who could quiet my head and ignite my body with a single look, the only one who made everything sharper and easier at the same time.
“We’ll be here. Me, Hilly, the women of Houston.” He chuckled at his own joke, and I let myself laugh too.
A few days later, a message from Dave pinged on my phone—three pictures of the inn. One of the finished roof, one of the upstairs walls now closed in, and a close-up of the corner that had needed the most work. His note read:“Hey, Superman. Take a look at that. Paint is next and we’re done.”
43
Ruby
THE NEEDLE BIT INTOmy skin, a hot, buzzing sting that should’ve made me flinch. But compared to the phantom ache I’d been carrying—the bone-deep throb of missing him—it was almost a relief. This pain was sharp, real, something I could see and name, not the invisible kind that wrapped around my ribs and pulled tight for weeks. The buzz of the machine was an anchor; every line the artist inked settled into me before I could admit what it meant. Before my mind caught up with what my body already knew—that Icouldbear hurt, maybe even make it mine.
Jump, Ruby. Goddammit, jump. Superman will catch you. He won’t let you fall.
HALLOWEEN CAME ANDwent. I threw myself into inauguration prep—guest lists, menus, decorations, staff, spreadsheets—anything to keep my head down, my heart numb. When my friends asked about meeting up, I dodged,claiming the inn as an excuse. It wasn’t a lie, not really. But it was also easier than facing them and myself.
I evaded reality, but every time my shirt brushed against my ribcage, the skin reminded me—still tender, still too new to ignore.
When I couldn’t escape the meaning behind the sting anymore, I finally messaged them.
“Can we meet tonight instead of tomorrow?”My fingers trembled, like even just reaching out to them was too much, because I knew they wouldn’t let me slip away easily. I was scared of that. But I needed it.
It felt like watching the sea pulling back, knowing the wave was gathering force, knowing it would soon crash me—and needing someone there beside me when it did. My friends.
“Sure.”Evangeline, angelic Eve, replied immediately.
“Let me text Owen, I need to check something first,”Rio wrote.
I had a feeling she read between the lines of my request. She’d tried to pry the truth out of me for days, even threatened to come over herself or send Eve to the inn. When I’d shot back,“Rio, cease and desist,”she’d only answered,“Fine. But you know we’re here.”
Now she added, “I’m free. Where?”
“My place?”Eve offered, just as I’d hoped.
I had to get out of the inn, and I didn’t feel like facing strangers. Eve’s house was cozy and quiet, and a short drive from here.
“Perfect,”I responded.“@Daphne, will we see you?”I added, hoping she’d catch the message in time.
