Page 126 of Fighting Spirit

“I thought we were a team.” Her whisper leaves me shattered.

“Please, Ruth-”

“Just leave me alone,” she sobs. “You don’t need to keep pretending that this is something it isn’t. I can take a hint.”

Her head turns and she makes as if to leave, but her hand stays clinging to my shirt, her fingers still latched on as if they’re reluctant to break that final point of connection.

“Please,” I whisper. My brain is such a mess that I can’t find any other words. None that could fix this, none that could make her stay.

She peels her hand away, removing each finger one by one as if they were welded there.

After she’s gone, I look down at the fabric and see the creases she’s left behind.

Chapter Fifty-Two

RUTH

Tears blur my vision as I fight to get the key in the lock. It scrapes against the metal as I try again and again. I hear a shuffling and the door swings open, a sleepy Georgie on the other side.

“Ruth?”

I can’t stop the tears that come when I see her.

She pulls me in by the hand, bustling into action, and before I understand what’s happening, I’m set up on the couch with a blanket around my shoulders. It’s a shame she and Rowan never got to be closer, they’re both such fixers.

Georgie’s in the kitchen putting some mugs of tea together, when she returns, her face is creased in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” My response is automatic, leached of emotion.

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs, “I just wasn’t sure when I was gonna see you again.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” I say bitterly.

She sits on the coffee table in front of me. Her position reminds me of the one Rowan took that night in the frat house. I have to lock the memory in a steel box, not ready to think aboutit. She doesn’t pay any mind to what I said, just pressing one of the mugs into my limp hands.

“Drink that,” she commands.

I do as she says, numbness fully taking over.

“Did something happen?” She braces herself on her knees, face held close to mine.

“I think we broke up.” I bite down on my lip, trying to stem the tears that won’t stop coming.

“Shit.” She scoots forward and squeezes my elbow. “What happened? You guys were great together.”

I shrug, not sure how to explain it. I don’t even understand it. My feelings are too much of a web, and the thought of trying to pick them apart seems utterly overwhelming.

“Did he do something?”

“It’s kinda… It’s more what he didn’t do.”

She holds her hands up in surrender. “You gotta give me more than that. You showed up out of the blue, looking like the sky fell down.”

“I can’t ‘show up out of the blue’ to the place that I live.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve not exactly been acting like you live here.”

I reel back, indignation bubbling in my chest. “Are you seriously acting like you get to be the one who’s mad right now? I am the one who gets to be mad!”

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