Page 79 of The Way We Fell

“Whatthefuck,Keller?”Ruth’s fury greets me like a punch to the face when I open my front door. She doesn’t say hello—doesn’t let me step aside to invite her in before pushing her way into my hallway, crowding me in the tiny space. I’m barefoot on the plush carpet and Ruth is wearing her office heels, giving her a good five inches over me, and she towers above me, rage blazing in her brown eyes.

“My fuckingbrother? The one man in the entire fucking world who should be off limits and you’ve been screwing him for months?”

No words come out of my mouth. I open and close it like a fish as Ruth’s tirade picks up steam.

“Of all the fucking men in the entire fucking world and you have to fuckmy brother. I leave London for all of five fucking minutes, and you can’t just leave well enough the fuck alone. And you didn’t even have the fucking decency to tell me yourself? I had to find out from Peter fucking Wankle.”

I suppress a shudder. Peter Wankle—Winkle, his name is Winkle—is a man Ruth one set me up on a date with when he first started working in her office, before we knew what a lecherous chauvinist he was. He’s six feet tall and stocky, with rugby player thighs, and his list of red flags is as long as I am tall. Unfortunately, none of them started to wave until we were already out on a date. The real question is, how did Peter Winkle know? I suppose neither Jay nor I have been especially discreet outside our homes. It probably wouldn’t have been difficult to see us somewhere and put two and two together.

I’ve never seen Ruth like this before. She’s practically trembling with rage. She’s always had a short fuse, but she’s also quick to forgive; she’s the pragmatic one. The logical one. She’s the problem-solver; I’m the laid-back one who floats on feelings.

Maybe my feelings are too much for Ruth this time.

Sometimes they’re too big for me, too.

Ruth is my best friend. She’s been my best friend since we were sixteen years old, and Amie and I met her in the sixth-form common room. But the way I feel about Jay—the way he’s come to mean so much, the way he cares for me, the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, cares for me, holds me—I love that man. I already know I could love him for the rest of my life. And if he lets me, I’m pretty sure I will.

My face feels hot and wet. Not the good kind—not the way Jay makes me blush—but the kind that says my emotions are too big. The kind that says I’m crying and I didn’t even realise it. I only notice when a tear drips from my jaw and hits my bare foot on the floor.

Ruth seethes before me, silently urging me to rebuke her rage, to come up with some excuse or lie orsomethingin response to her argument. She wants to present me with whatever evidence she has like she’s in a courtroom trying to get me banged to rights. Ruth hasn’t stepped foot in a courtroom since passing her exams, but I think this is her moment. Slowly, I lift my shoulders in a defeated shrug.

“It just happened,” I whisper. My voice is broken. I haven’t spoken since Ruth barged in, shouting, and her pink face is still inches from mine. “We didn’t mean—we never wanted to hurt you.”

“He’s my fuckingbrother, Katherine. What did you think was going to happen?”

Breath leaves my lungs like I’ve been hit.

“I don’t know.”

“He’s delicate. He’s hurt. Troubled. He’s—he’s—”

“More than you’ve ever given him credit for,” I push. I don’t know where my sudden boldness comes from. I’m quiet, sure. But I’ve never been a wallflower. I’ve never been a pushover. I’m not one to stay silent in the face of injustice or when someone is coming at me the way Ruth is. But with Ruth screaming at me, I want to curl up and wave a white flag. I don’t want this. I want to go back to fifteen minutes ago when she was still my best friend and I could go to her with anything.

Except, Ididn’tgo to her. I didn’t tell her. I kept it a secret, and I broke her trust. I did exactly what she told me not to do. And now she’s looking at me like I broke her heart, too.

“He’shurt, Katy,” she hisses. “He’s troubled, he’s seen things. He doesn’t need you to swoop in and try to fix him. He doesn’t need you fucking with his heart. Or his dick.”

“He’shealing, Ruth,” I say. “He doesn’t need fixing.” Coming to his defence emboldens me. This man—this charming, funny, smart, incredible man—he’s unlocked so much within me. What began as a tentative friendship snowballed into something I can hardly breathe without; his strength, his patience and determination, the set of his jaw when he realises he’s lost in his own head and fights so hard to get out. To come back to me. It’s no wonder I fell so hard, so deeply for him. It’s no wonder that when he wraps his arms around me, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt. Warmer. More loved.

Loving Jay came out of nowhere. I never meant to hurt Ruth. Lying to her and keeping secrets has broken my heart for the last eight weeks. But how could I tell her? She all but forbade all of us from pursuing her brother. Not that I would havepursuedhim as such. It justhappened. If loving Jay means losing Ruth, I don’t think I could survive it. But if having my best friend back means losing Jay—well, that life wouldn’t be worth living, either.

Ruth sighs a loud, angry sigh.

“You’re a fucking traitorous bitch, Keller,” she says quietly. “My fucking brother.Mybrother. The one thing I have in this world that’smine, and you can’t even let me have him. He’s my fucking brother, Katy. Isn’t that girl code? You don’t go after your best friend’s brother?”

Her voice breaks and takes my heart with it. I feel sick—not just to my stomach but to the depths of my bones. I don’t know how to stay upright anymore. My best friend is no longer furious but devastated, and a tear works its way down her cheek. She’s still in my face but I take a step closer anyway and put a hand on her arm. My skin barely makes contact with the cotton of her blouse, and she flinches.

“He’s not a possession, Ruth,” I whisper. “He’s the love of my life.”

I close my hand around her arm and pull her into me. She fights me like a cornered cat, limbs flying, and I’m pretty sure if she had claws, I’d be shredded like a lettuce.

“Don’t even think about it,” she hisses. “We’re done, Keller.Done.”

My front door is still cracked for the whole neighbourhood to hear our feud. Ruth spins on a pointy-toed heel and storms off, stilettos stomping down the driveway. After a beat of silence, I push the door closed with a softclick, and then slide down the wall beside it, hugging my knees to my chest as tears spill from my eyes.

I text Jay a warning, one I know he’ll see when he finishes his therapy session. It’s just two simple words, but those two words could be the start of everything changing. I stuff my phone in my pocket with trembling hands and pull my front door shut behind me. When I get to Amie’s house and stumble up her driveway, barely able to see through my tears, Paloma is just stepping out of the door. Immediately, she unlocks the door again, pulls me inside and shrugs off her coat.

“Amie,” she calls up the stairs. “Amie, S-O-S.”

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