Ruth’s POV
The car ride home was a slow suffocation.
Emmett didn’t say much at first. Just occasional glances, quick, assessing, trying to read me like he always did. But I didn’t give him anything. I kept my eyes on the window, though I wasn’t seeing the trees, or the road, or the moonlight bleeding through the windshield. My arms were crossed so tight I could feel the ache in my shoulders, but I didn’t shift. Didn’t relax. I couldn’t. Everything inside me was twisted too tightly around Marcus’s voice.
He tried. He asked what I thought of the food, and he brought up my unfinished canvas. He even commented on the weather. But every word died between us like smoke hitting glass. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t pretend I was okay, not tonight. Not after what I heard. Not after what settled in my chest like rot.
My mind replayed every syllable Marcus had said. The slow, deliberate way he mentioned Emmett’s sister. The way he talked about her tears like they’d meant nothing. The implication, the tone, that haunting phrase about my brother: “he had your eyes.”
He knew, he knew things he shouldn’t have. And the worst part wasn’t the fear. It was the fury, hot and ugly, rising from a place I hadn’t touched in years. I wanted to believe he was lying, that he was just manipulating me to get under Emmett’s skin. But some part of me, the part that remembered how my wrists felt in those years I never talk about, believed him. I wanted to scream, I wanted to hurt something, I wanted blood, and that terrified me most of all.
When we pulled into my driveway, I didn’t wait. I unbuckled, stepped out, and walked to the porch without a word. My keys slipped in my sweaty fingers. I cursed under my breath and tried again. That’s when I felt him behind me.
His hand touched my shoulder, light, careful, almost hesitant. “Ruth,” he said softly. “What happened?” I didn’t answer.
The door opened, and I walked inside. I didn’t close it behind me, and he followed. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. The house was dim, lit only by the moon pouring through the windows. I walked past the kitchen, past the couch, and stopped at the edge of the hallway.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” There was no emotion in the words. Not fear. Not longing. Just need. Simple. Stripped down. I didn’t owe him more than that, and I didn’t explain. He nodded, no hesitation. That was enough.
I turned and walked toward the bedroom. I didn’t look back. I heard him behind me, his footsteps muted against the floor, close but not touching. Inside, everything felt louder. The quiet was sharper. My own heartbeat sounded like it was coming from the walls. I stood in the middle of the room for a second and breathed. My silence wasn’t emptiness, it was the only thing keeping me from breaking apart.
Something had shifted tonight. Or maybe it had been building for a long time, and I just hadn’t noticed until it cracked wide open. I didn’t know what exactly broke, just that something did. And it wasn’t over, not with Marcus. Not with the things I remembered. Not with whatever was unraveling between Emmett and me.