Page 13 of Golden Ruin

Because it would’ve interrupted her new schedule.

“We’ve been doing this long-distance thing for what… four months now?” I remind her. “You said you went back to Florida to clear your head and figure things out. What happened last night doesn’t change that.”

There’s nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Tiff’s a huge romantic, so I can almost read her thoughts. To her, this would’ve been a great moment to profess my love, to say I’m not sure how I’ve lived without her for so long, to beg her to come back.

But that shit’s not real life.

Real life is messy, it’s complicated, and it doesn’t always work out how you imagine it will. We’ve learned that the hard way.

“For what it’s worth… I miss you,” she says softly. So low that I almost don’t catch it.

My pace slows as I pass in front of Lexi’s door again. I open my mouth to say it back, but no sound comes out. My feet stop moving, and I stare at the gray and white tile but don’t speak, which probably says more than words ever could.

Four months is a long time. A long time to think, a long time to guess whether you still have a relationship, a long time to learn to live without someone. And whether she likes it or not, after being apart for so long, I didn’t have much choice but to get good at that last part.

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, and it only takes a sec for it to register that she’s sniffling, trying not to cry into the phone. It’s hard to pinpoint how we got to this place where we feel so disconnected, but despite our best effort, I swear the void grows deeper and wider every day.

Her question from yesterday comes back to me… Are we still even trying?

And the sad part is, I feel like the answer is already so obvious.

That, if we’re honest, we stopped trying a long time ago.

“I should go.”

She doesn’t say anything back right away, just holds the phone, still fighting back tears. I try not to picture her, try not to think about what us falling apart is doing to her, but I feel it all.

“There’s a lot going on right now,” she says. “I won’t press, but… it’s probably time we talk about things. Soon,” she adds softly.

“I agree. And we will.”

She takes a breath into the phone, says goodbye, then the line goes dead.

Too many feelings force their way in–guilt, exhaustion, worry. But I can’t let my mind go there. I’ve got too much other shit to worry about, too many people who need me right now. So, I shut it all off, quiet the noise.

Including Tiffany’s voice cycling on repeat in my thoughts.

My phone’s in my hand again, and I tap out a quick text as I settle against the wall beside Lexi’s room.

Sterling: Sorry for the short notice, but I’ll have to miss the workout today.

Coach: No need to explain. I heard about the fire. Take care of your family and let Meg and I know if there’s anything we can do.

I tuck the phone away, taking a breath as I try to dismiss all the outside interference and focus on exactly what Coach just suggested.

Taking care of my family.

Because after yesterday, if I didn’t already know what’s important, I sure as hell do now.

***

Lexi

“Let me get that.”

My mother hasn’t had a chance to baby me in years, so she’s milking this moment for all it’s worth. She holds my sleeve open, so I can slip into Benny’s oversized hoodie she brought from home. She pulls the hem down to the waistband of a pair of stretch pants before popping the tag off them, then pulls my hair free from inside my shirt.

I catch another whiff of it–smoke and burnt strands that will have to be cut sooner rather than later. I catch her staring at it, the charred ends, and then I catch her blinking away tears. I don’t ask what she’s thinking, because I know this is already hard.