She shot me a glare. “I’m not acting. I’m fine.” She flexed her fingers again, wincing. Her ring finger was bare, but the tan line was still there, faint but unmistakable.
“So your husband, maybe ex. Are you going to tell me what the deal with him is?” I asked before I caught myself.
“Wow,” she said. “How is that any of your business?”
“I’m just making conversation.”
She shook her head, waving me off. “If you must know, Julian is an incredibly involved father. He always has been. Our problems are our own.”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter. “Fair enough. But you didn’t exactly deny that there were complications.”
Ruby’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. “You’re pushing your luck, Kieran.”
I shrugged, refusing to back down. “Maybe. But there’s something you’re not telling me.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “There are a lot of things I’m not telling you,” she replied. “You lost the right to have me tell you anything when you ghosted me. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, and you never will.”
For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—pain, vulnerability, something raw that she didn’t want me to see. But just as quickly, it vanished behind her walls.
Before either of us could say more, the door opened, and the doctor walked in. Ruby’s expression hardened instantly, her back straightening as she masked whatever had been lurking beneath the surface.
The doctor gave us a polite nod. “Ruby Marquez? Let’s take a look at that hand. We’ll need to get some scans to check for glass fragments.”
The doctor prodded around Ruby’s hand, making her wince again. He scribbled some notes on his clipboard, his expression serious but routine.
“What about the antibodies?” I asked. “Is that a thing you do whenever someone cuts their hand?”
“It’s just a precaution,” the doctor answered as Ruby opened her mouth in surprise. “With rare blood types and Rh incompatibility, it's good practice to stay ahead of any potential issues. In case your wife were to ever need, or, if you know, she needs surger--”
“Yeah, I know,” Ruby said softly, too quickly “Just…do whatever you need to.”
The doctor paused but nodded. "Right. I’ll send the nurse in soon for prep." He glanced between us, sensing some kind of tension, but wisely didn’t press. A moment later, he left the room.
I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter.
“Really? You’re keeping this husband thing up?” Ruby asked. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
“I was curious,” I said. “And yeah, maybe a little worried.”
The door opened again before I could press her further, and the nurse walked in with her usual chipper professionalism.
“Let’s get you prepped for the scan,” the nurse said, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension in the room.
Ruby slid off the exam table and followed the nurse, not sparing me another glance. Her shoulders were stiff, and her silence felt like a wall slamming down between us.
I watched her leave, a nagging feeling pulling at the back of my mind. But I brushed it off. Probably just her being weird and private like always. Still, I couldn’t help wondering why the mention of her medical history had shaken her like that. It didn’t make sense. Not yet.
For the first time since I started digging, it felt like Ruby was scared of me knowing something.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
***
So I waited.
I should’ve left. I didn’t.
I sat in the vinyl chair that had probably seen a hundred other assholes try to pretend they weren’t panicking. Scrolled through my phone. Played solitaire. Started and abandoned three different articles. Called Tristan and hung up before it rang. Checked Ruby’s name in my contacts like it might suddenly give me a clue. It didn’t.