Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Helen

I stand at the kitchen window, watching Ruby and James make their way up the path. The late afternoon sun is gentle, casting a golden glow on the garden, but all I can see is the weight James is carrying. He’s trailing behind Ruby, his shoulders hunched, looking so much smaller than he did even a few weeks ago. Ruby’s hand brushes his arm, but there’s something in the way he walks that tugs at me—a heaviness that’s impossible to miss.

I still can’t shake the shock of seeing him yesterday. The bruises, the way he looked so worn down... Angus and I exchanged glances over dinner, both of us quietly horrified. We didn’t push, didn’t ask too many questions, but we both knew it: he couldn’t go back to that house. Not after everything with Mortimer. And with Lydia at Ophelia’s... where was he going to live?

As they step inside, Ruby calls out, “We’re back!”

I turn, offering a smile that I hope hides the worry in my chest. “Perfect timing,” I say, drying my hands on a towel. “Ruby, could you pop down to the shop and grab some milk for tea? I completely forgot earlier.”

She frowns a little but nods, tossing her bag on the floor. “Sure, be back in a bit.”

I wait until the door swings shut behind her before turning to James. He’s standing there awkwardly, still by the doorway, like he’s not sure if he should come in further or make himself scarce. He’s always been a bit shy around us, but now... well, he just seems lost.

“James,” I say, giving him a soft smile, “could you help me with something? The backdoor’s been sticking again, and Angus swears it just needs a good shove, but I thought you might be able to take a look.”

He nods, grateful for something to do, gets the toolbox and follows me to the back. I lead him to the door, but my mind is already on what I really want to talk about. I watch as he fiddles with the latch, his fingers deft but slower than usual, his concentration a little fractured.

“So...” I start, keeping my voice light, “where are you planning to stay now?”

He pauses for a moment, his hand still on the latch, and looks up at me with a bit of confusion. “Um... I haven’t really thought about it,” he mutters, his voice low. “I guess Alistair’s?”

I nod slowly, though I know that’s not really the answer. I can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he’s trying to piece together a plan that doesn’t exist yet.

“I understand,” I say carefully. “But, James... you don’t have to go to Alistair’s.”

He glances up, his brow furrowed, not quite sure what I mean.

I take a deep breath, stepping closer. “We’ve been thinking, Angus and I... You’re welcome to stay here. It’s not a big house, and you’d have to share Ruby’s room, but... we’d like you to be here. For as long as you and Ruby want that.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at me like he’s not sure if he heard me right. “You mean... here?”

I nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yes, here. We care about you, James. And we know... well, after everything, we just want to make sure you’re somewhere safe. Somewhere where you’re cared for.”

He blinks, his throat working as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “I... I don’t want to impose. I didn’t even think—”

“You’re not imposing,” I cut in gently. “Not at all. This is Ruby’s home. And for as long as you’re with her, it’s your home too.”

James swallows hard, looking away for a second, his fingers clenching around the door handle. “I don’t know what to say...”

“There’s no need to say anything right now,” I tell him softly. “Just... think about it. We’d love to have you here.”

After we head back into the kitchen, I watch James move with the toolbox, his movements a little slower, like he’s still processing everything I just said. He opens it quietly, organizing the tools with more care than usual, and I can tell he’s trying to gather himself.

Ruby sets the milk on the counter with a bit of a thud, looking between me and James, her brow furrowed. “What’d I miss?” she asks again, her voice light but tinged with curiosity.

I give her a soft smile, glancing over at James before turning to face her. “I just had a little chat with James about where he’s going to stay.” 

She looks at me, puzzled for a second. “Stay?” 

I nod. “I asked him if he’s thought about where he’s going to live, especially now with everything going on at home.” I pause for a moment, letting her catch up. “Your dad and I... well, we’ve decided that he’s welcome to stay here. For as long as you two want. It’s a small house, and he’d have to share your room, but—”

Ruby’s eyes widen, and a slow smile spreads across her face. “Mum, really?”

I nod again, my smile growing. “Yes, really. We want him here, Ruby. It’s not right, him trying to figure out all this on his own.”

I watch her expression shift—first surprise, then something softer, warmer. She glances over at James, who’s still standing by the toolbox, his back to us but his shoulders tense, clearly trying to stay out of the conversation.

“James?” Ruby calls softly, stepping toward him. He doesn’t turn around right away, just nods slightly, his hand gripping the edge of the toolbox.

“I told him just now,” I add, my voice gentle. “He can stay here with us. As long as he wants.”

Ruby takes another step toward him, and I see her hand reach out, resting on his arm. James finally turns, his eyes meeting hers, still a bit unsure but with a look of quiet gratitude in them. She gives him a small, reassuring smile, and he exhales slowly, nodding once.

I step back, giving them a moment, my heart warming at the sight of the two of them standing there together. It feels right—him being here, being part of this home. As I turn to put the milk away, I can hear Ruby whispering something to him, her voice low and comforting. 

Angus

I roll into the pharmacy, the faint hum of the wheels on the linoleum floor filling the quiet space. The visit to the doctor went as expected—another confirmation that my body’s slowing down, and I’ll have to keep adjusting. No surprises, but still not easy to swallow. As I approach the counter, I spot James at the far end, his back to me, hunched over like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

At first, he doesn’t see me, and I watch him for a moment, wondering how long he’s been standing there, clutching that little white bag like it might slip out of his hand. He looks… different. More worn, more frayed around the edges. Ruby had told us what happened, and I saw him each day for dinner, but seeing him like this, when he thinks no one‘s watching him, I get the feeling it’s only part of the story.

“James,” I say, breaking the silence as I wheel up beside him. 

His head snaps toward me, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe, but also something more. Embarrassment? He tenses up like I’ve caught him in the act of doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Angus.” He clears his throat, standing straighter but still looking uneasy. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I glance at the prescription bag in his hand, and I can’t help the small frown tugging at my lips. “Doctor’s appointment,” I explain, motioning vaguely with my hand. “You?”

He looks down at the bag, then back at me, his expression tightening for a second. “Just picking something up.”

He doesn’t offer more than that, and I don’t press him. It’s clear enough what kind of “something” he’s here for. Pain management, probably. And judging by the shadows under his eyes, the kid’s dealing with a lot more than just physical aches.

“Headed back?” I ask, keeping my voice casual. 

He nods, shoving the bag into his jacket pocket as if that’ll make it disappear. There’s an uncomfortable silence between us, but I’m not letting him walk away just yet. “You got time for a cup of coffee?” I ask, glancing down the street. “There’s a place around the corner. I could use a break.”

He hesitates. It’s subtle, but I catch it. He’s torn between wanting to leave and not wanting to seem rude. After a beat, he nods. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

We walk together—well, I roll, he walks—toward the café, and I’m thinking hard about what to say next. James looks like he’s carrying a mountain on his back, and I can’t ignore it. Once we sit down outside the café and order our coffees, I take a moment to look at him. Really look at him. He looks exhausted, worn down, and I know it’s not just from the fight with Mortimer. There’s more under the surface.

I lean back in my chair, keeping my voice as gentle as I can. “You alright, lad?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes, just stares at the table like it holds all the answers. “I’m fine,” he mutters, but I can hear the lie in his voice. 

I nod slowly, taking a sip of my coffee. “Saw you picking up a prescription in there. Pain management, I’m guessing?”

His jaw tightens, and he finally looks up at me. “Yeah. For my ribs.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then I decide to say it. “James… you need to file a report. With the police. You can’t just let Mortimer get away with this.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. It’s bitter, hard. “You really think that’ll help, Angus? You think a man like Mortimer doesn’t have ways to wriggle out of something like that? The police, a report… that’s not going to stop him.”

I frown, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. “Then what’s the plan, James? Just keep taking painkillers and hoping it all blows over? You can’t carry this alone.”

He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. “That’s why I did what I did. Confronting him, blackmailing him… I didn’t see any other way. Boardroom showdowns, police reports—they don’t work on people like him. But now I’ve gotta live with the consequences of that.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. There’s a heaviness to what he’s saying, and I can see the toll it’s taking on him. I feel a mix of things—admiration for his courage, frustration that he’s in this position, pity for the weight he’s carrying—but mostly, I just feel the need to help.

I lean forward, placing a hand on the table between us. “You don’t have to do this alone, James. Whatever happens, you’ve got people in your corner. You’ve got Ruby, you’ve got me, Helen. You don’t have to keep fighting like this.”

He looks at me, and for the first time, I see something crack in that wall he’s been holding up. He’s not as strong as he’s pretending to be. 

“I appreciate that,” he says quietly, “but this is my mess. I’ve gotta deal with it.”

I nod, not pushing further. Sometimes support doesn’t need words—it’s just about being there. So that’s what I’ll do for him, for Ruby, for all of them.

Chapter Text

Alistair

I let myself in without knocking. I never knock here. Not at the Bells’ house. It’s not like James needs me to, and if anyone in this house is offended by a door opening, I’ve yet to meet them. 

He’s on the couch, flipping through channels, looking a bit lost. I drop the duffel bags down in front of him, watching as his eyes dart toward them. 

“Figured you might want some of your stuff,” I say, smirking. “Clothes, lacrosse gear, school stuff. You know, the essentials.”

He stares at the bags like he wasn’t expecting them—like it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He looks at me, frowning slightly. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, shrugging it off. “But you weren’t going to go back to that house, were you?”

Silence. He just stares at the bags for a beat too long, and I see it—the flicker in his eyes. I know him better than anyone else. I know what’s going on in that head of his. The mansion’s off-limits in his mind now. I didn’t need him to tell me that to figure it out.

He finally mutters, “You didn’t have to.”

Of course, I didn’t have to. But when have I ever needed asking to help James out? I sink into the couch next to him, stretching out, like this is just another Tuesday.

“You’d do the same for me,” I say, because that’s the truth of it. He’d drag my crap halfway across the world if I asked. 

James doesn’t argue, but I can tell he’s thinking. A lot’s been sitting heavy on him lately, and not just the bruises. Living here—at the Bells’—that’s new for him. I can see the wheels turning in his head, can almost hear him worrying if he’s imposing or something equally stupid. It’s ridiculous, really, but that’s James for you.

After a long pause, he finally speaks. “Feels... easier than I thought it would.”

I glance at him. “What does?”

“Living here.” He’s still looking at the bags, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I thought I’d feel like a burden. Or like a fifth wheel.”

I snort. “In this house? Mate, you’d have to try to feel like a fifth wheel around here.”

He chuckles, and I can see the tension in his shoulders ease a little. “It’s just... they’re so different from what I’m used to. Quirky. Loving. Funny. It’s like... it’s the kind of family you only see in films, you know? Always laughing, teasing each other. Pet names, cuddles, inside jokes.”

He’s smiling now, softer, like he’s let his guard down. 

“And you’re part of it,” I say, nudging his shoulder. “They’ve even got you in on the pet names, don’t they?”

He laughs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, don’t remind me.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. James is looking at the duffel bags again, his face softening. “I thought it’d be awkward,” he says, quieter now. “But it’s not. It’s... it’s like I belong here. Mock-fighting with Ember over the bathroom, getting teased by Ruby’s dad over cooking and cleaning the kitchen... even the chores. It feels... good.”

“Like you’re part of the family?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

He nods, and I can tell it’s a relief for him to say it out loud. “Yeah. Like I’m part of the family.”

James

When I wake up on Saturday morning, Ruby is still lying next to me, her body tucked against mine, and the weight of her hand resting on my chest is the only thing keeping me grounded. The air is calm, too calm for me, and the weight of everything outside these four walls is somewhere out there, but for the first time, it’s distant. 

Ruby stretches beside me and props herself up on one elbow. “You should stay in bed a little longer,” she says, voice soft and easy. “Dad’s making breakfast—he always does on Saturdays. Mom‘s already gone for her morning shift, and either Ember or I handle Sunday.”

I blink, trying to process. Angus cooking breakfast . It’s a world apart from what I’m used to. The idea of a father being the one to cook for his family in the morning is foreign to me. 

“I’ll survive,” I murmur, but Ruby’s already slipping out of bed, padding softly across the room in her pajamas. She leaves the door slightly ajar, the soft sounds of the house seeping in, and returns a few minutes later with two mugs of coffee.

“Here you go,” she says, handing one to me as she climbs back into bed. 

I sip gratefully. “So, your dad cooks breakfast every Saturday? Like, not just toast or cereal, but cooking?”

“Yeah, always. I’d offer to make you something, but he’s kind of territorial about it,” she says with a grin. “And don’t worry about anything—just stay here a bit longer. I’ll keep you company.”

There’s a strange comfort in the routine she describes. I don’t have to figure anything out right away—no pressure to perform, just the space to rest and heal. Speaking of healing, I wince slightly as I shift, the dull ache in my ribs reminding me that I’m still not out of the woods yet. My painkillers are due soon, and I know I’ll need them to get through the day.

When I finally make my way downstairs, following the smell of fresh coffee and something sizzling on the stove, I find Angus at the kitchen counter, stirring a pan of scrambled eggs.

“Morning, James,” he says, looking up with a welcoming smile. “Ruby told me you were up. How’re you feeling?”

I shrug, trying not to make too much of it. “Better than all week.”

“Well, take it easy today. No rush.”

I sit at the table, feeling a bit awkward as I watch him work. Ruby joins us after a few minutes, and Ember drifts in, sleepy-eyed and yawning. The morning unfolds slowly—something I’m not used to. 

Halfway through breakfast, as we’re finishing off the eggs and sausages with all the extras, Ember looks at me with a straight face and says, “Alright, hand over your clothes.”

I choke slightly on my coffee. “Sorry?”

“I’m not asking you to strip naked. Your dirty clothes. It’s my turn for laundry this week. I’ll wash and iron yours too, if you want, but you’re on your own with the underwear.”

Ruby grins into her mug, clearly enjoying this. I blink, not quite sure how to respond. Laundry. Right. I’ve never even considered who handled that before—it was just always done. 

Ember shrugs. “You’ll learn. You’re up next week. And just a heads-up, if you shrink anything, you’ll have to deal with the consequences.” She grins wickedly.

“Consequences?” I ask, already feeling my face flush. “Like what?”

Ruby chimes in. “Like having to wear whatever disaster you create.”

I feel heat rising to my face, but before I can respond, Angus jumps in, grinning. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll give you some tips when it’s your turn. Just... maybe stick to towels for your first go.”

The conversation somehow spirals into jokes about laundry catastrophes, and despite the mortification, I can’t help but laugh along. It’s surreal—this blend of humor and mundane tasks—but it’s also oddly freeing. It’s the kind of casual, everyday life I’ve never really had.

After breakfast, Ruby asks me to help with the groceries. “It’s a weekend thing,” she says as we head to the car. “Ember and I are in charge of stocking up for the week.”

Driving is easy. My ribs still ache, but the painkillers have kicked in, and I feel steady behind the wheel. Ruby handles the list like a pro, guiding me through the aisles of the grocery store. We’re stocking up on everything from vegetables to cleaning supplies. I follow her lead, pushing the cart while she picks out everything we’ll need for the week. I‘m kind of a hopeless case when it comes to the finer details of washing powder and self-raising flour, but I‘m good at picking tomatoes.

By the time we get back, the kitchen’s filled with the clatter of bags and the low hum of conversation. Ember’s perched at the counter, scrolling through her phone while Angus clears space to start cooking chili for dinner. 

“Take a break when you’re done,” Angus tells me, glancing over as I help Ruby unload the groceries. “I’ll be upstairs for a bit, and you’re welcome to crash on the couch. Helen will be home soon, and we’ll get dinner going.”

I’m not used to being told to rest, but I’m not about to argue. Once the groceries are sorted, I find myself stretched out on the couch, the soft chatter of the house swirling around me. Ruby curls up at the other end of the couch, a book in her hands, her feet tucked near mine. It’s quiet, peaceful in a way that I don’t know how to describe. I close my eyes, just letting the moment sink in, drifting off a for a while, Ruby’s hand warm on my leg.

When Helen comes home, she brings leftover cake from the bakery, and suddenly, everyone’s gathered around the table again. It’s an impromptu feast—cake and laughter filling the kitchen as we all indulge. 

Then, out of nowhere,  Alistair shows up, grinning as usual. “So, who’s inviting me to dinner tonight?” he asks, hands in his pockets as he leans against the doorframe.

Ember volunteers with a big grin. “Don’t worry, you won’t be the third wheel with these two lovebirds anymore now that you’ve got me at your side.”

Alistair winks, sliding into the fold of the evening effortlessly. Before long, we’re all sitting down to Angus’s chili, the conversation rolling easily between jokes, plans for Sunday, and the kind of mundane talk that feels like a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

By the time dinner is over, I’m exhausted, though I try to hide it. Helen notices, of course. “James, you look like you’re about to drop. Go on, get some rest and go to bed.”

I blink, caught off guard by the kindness in her tone. “Thanks. I think I will.”

As I head upstairs, I hear Ruby offer to walk Alistair to his car. For a few minutes, I’m alone, standing at the window in the dim light of the room. I think about the day—the laundry, the groceries, the laughter at dinner—and how, for the first time in a long time, I’ve felt something resembling normalcy. It’s strange but also… beautiful. It’s like learning a new language. I know the words. But I still have to figure out how to piece together a whole sentence.

When Ruby comes back into the room, she doesn’t say anything at first. I’m standing by the window, lost in my thoughts, trying to wrap my head around the day. It’s been… a lot. A strange mix of unfamiliar routines, gentle kindness, and moments where I felt like a complete outsider, fumbling to find my place.

I hear the soft creak of the floorboards behind me, then feel Ruby’s presence. She slips her arms around my waist, resting her head gently against my shoulder. The warmth of her body pressing into mine pulls me back into the present, grounding me. Her breath is soft and steady against my back, and I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

For a moment, we just stand like that, quietly wrapped up in each other. It feels good—natural, easy. Like she knows exactly when I need her without me having to say a word.

“Hey,” she murmurs softly, her voice warm and low, „you okay?“

“Hey,” I reply, feeling a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Just… thinking.”

“Good things, I hope.”

I nod slightly, leaning into her a little more. “Yeah, mostly.”

She tightens her hold on me for a second before letting go and slipping around to face me. Her eyes are soft and knowing, and without saying anything, she takes my hand and leads me to the bed. We settle under the covers, the day’s weight finally starting to melt away.

“How was today for you? First weekend here?” she asks, her head resting on the pillow beside me, her hand still intertwined with mine.

I let out a small laugh. “Honestly? A little overwhelming. I had no idea how to handle… any of it. The breakfast routine, the grocery shopping, the laundry .” I emphasize the word, grinning at her. “I’m a hopeless case in the kitchen, and I’m pretty sure Ember thinks I’m going to burn the house down next time I touch a washing machine.”

Ruby chuckles, the sound light and comforting. “You’ll survive. Dad will have you cooking chili like a pro in no time. As for the laundry… well, just stay on Ember’s good side, and you should be fine.”

“I’ll try my best,” I say, mock-serious, but it’s a relief to joke about it, to feel the tension ease. I glance at her, half-teasing. “What do you think I should do? I mean, I can’t just sit around all day. I need to help out somehow.”

Ruby smirks, rolling onto her side to face me. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Ember will find plenty for you to do once she thinks you’ve had enough rest. Trust me, she won’t let you get away with being idle for long. For now, just enjoy the break while it lasts.”

I let out a sigh of contentment, feeling the exhaustion creep in now that I’m lying down. “I’ll take that advice.”

——

I wake up, disoriented for a moment, the room dim and quiet. I must’ve only slept for an hour or two, but when I feel Ruby’s hand on my arm, I remember exactly where I am. Her touch is gentle, grounding, like always. She’s still here, sitting next to me, reading with one hand while her other rests softly on me. I let that feeling sink in for a minute—no sneaking around, no stolen moments. I’m here, really here, walked in through the front door in broad daylight, and this is our reality now.

When she notices I’m awake, her lips curve into a soft smile. “Look who decided to join the land of the living again,” she teases, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“Hey.” I smile back, feeling the warmth of her presence flood through me, making me wanting to tease her a little.  “Remember when I used to sneak in here at night?”

She raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Oh, I remember. Very well.”

“Yeah, well... I’m here now,” I say, a touch of amusement in my voice. “But I don’t think I could pull off what we did back then.”

Ruby laughs softly, closing her book and leaning closer. “Oh? You think you’ve lost your edge?”

“More like my ribs aren’t exactly up for it,” I reply, grinning despite myself. “But back then, that secret making out… well, it was something else.”

She gives me a playful look, leaning in until our faces are almost touching. “I could always be on top again,” she teases, her voice low and smooth. “You didn’t seem to mind the last time. Not at all.”

Her words send a rush of heat through me, a bittersweet ache mingling with the desire. I miss that—us. The ease of it, the freedom. I let out a small sigh. “I miss it.”

Ruby’s eyes soften, and she leans in, brushing her lips lightly against mine. “Impatient,” she murmurs, her breath warm on my skin.

“Maybe,” I admit, my hands gently running over her back, feeling the familiar curve of her body. “But I think I know something we can do…”

With that, I sit up on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, while she stands, stripping off her own shirt. She moves with a grace I’ve always admired before settling in my lap, straddling me. 

There’s something about the way she fits so perfectly against me, facing me, her legs wrapped around my waist. It gives me a sense of control, allowing me to hold her the way I want, but without putting any strain on my ribs. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she understands. Somehow it matters—being active in this, not just receiving, having a say in how this goes.

I slide my hands to her hips, feeling the warmth of her skin under my palms. “You know,” I say, my voice low, “you look incredible right now.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replies, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

I shift slightly, pulling her closer as she kisses me again, deeper this time. I let her guide me, and even though I’m still aching, it feels good—her touch, the way she’s with me. I lift her just enough to slide her underwear down, letting it fall to the floor before tugging my PJ bottoms down too, just far enough to free myself.

Her breath hitches as I lift her again, positioning her over me. My hands rest on her ass, guiding her slowly, lowering her onto me inch by inch. The feeling is intense—she’s so warm, and the way she fits around me, the way her body moves against mine—it’s intoxicating. I can feel her shudder as I fill her, her breath catching in her throat as she sinks down fully. 

“James…” she whispers, her voice breathless, and I swear it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.

I grip her hips, holding her steady as we move together, slow and deliberate. Every motion sends a wave of pleasure through me, but more than that, it’s the way she’s completely with me in this moment. I whisper against her ear, my voice rough with emotion.

“You’re perfect. Always.”

Her forehead presses against mine, her breath coming in soft, quick gasps as we find our rhythm. I can feel her getting closer, her body tightening around me, her movements more urgent. My hand slips between us, my fingers finding her center, circling in time with our movements. I can feel her unraveling, her body trembling in my lap as I push her over the edge.

She comes with a soft cry that I silence with a kiss, her body shaking in my lap, and I hold her through it, my fingers still working her, guiding her through every wave. Watching her fall apart like this—knowing I’m the one doing it—it’s overwhelming. It takes everything I have not to follow her right away, but when she starts moving again, I’m right there with her, the pleasure building quickly in my own body.

I grip her hips tighter, pulling her down onto me as I thrust up into her. Every inch of her, every motion drives me closer to the edge. I can feel it coming, the tension building until I can’t hold back any longer. My head falls against her shoulder as I let go, the release crashing through me, leaving me breathless and shaking.

Even afterward, when we start to untangle ourselves, Ruby keeps the moment from slipping into awkwardness. She moves with ease, helping me redress without any rush, no awkward fumbling. There’s nothing embarrassing here, nothing that feels out of place. She just... loves me through it. She pulls me close, snuggling into my side, her body soft and warm against mine.

I wrap my arm around her, holding her as she nestles into me, and I can feel the exhaustion setting in again. But this time, it’s different. This time, I fall asleep with her in my arms, no fear, no hiding—just us, together.

_______

But: The thing about healing and recovering has a catch. When you have a particularly good day and start thinking that from now on everything will be better—well, the next day is guaranteed to be bad. It will be so bad that you won't believe it will ever get easier again. 

Angus

Early Sunday morning, I wheel into the kitchen, the soft whir of my chair barely breaking the quiet. It’s still early—too early for anyone else to be up, except maybe James. I’d heard him moving around the house, quiet as he tries to be, and it didn’t surprise me to find him sitting there by the window, staring out into the dark garden. 

He’s got a cup of coffee in his hands, the steam rising up in lazy swirls, but he’s not drinking it. Just holding it, like it’s something solid to anchor him. His eyes are far away, somewhere I can’t quite reach.

I pause in the doorway, watching him for a moment. He’s been here with us for a little over a week, but I can still see the rawness in him, the weight of what he’s been through clinging to him. And it makes my chest ache, seeing a young man like him carry so much. More than anyone should.

I clear my throat gently, enough to let him know I’m here. “Morning, James.”

He startles slightly, but his expression softens when he sees me. “Morning, Angus,” he replies, his voice quiet, almost like he’s trying not to disturb the peace of the early hour.

I wheel closer, stopping beside him at the window. The garden is barely visible in the early morning light, a deep blue hue casting everything in shadows. For a few moments, we sit in silence, just the two of us, watching the world slowly wake up.

“You’ve been up for a while,” I say, keeping my tone light.

James shrugs, still staring out the window. “Couldn’t sleep.”

I nod. I know something of sleepless nights. “I get that. Sometimes... the mind won’t let you rest, even when your body is screaming for it.”

He glances at me briefly before looking back outside. I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders are hunched just a little, like he’s carrying something he can’t put down.

I take a deep breath, debating how to approach this. I’ve been where he is, in my own way. I’ve sat in the dark with thoughts that I didn’t know how to share, thoughts that felt too heavy to burden someone else with. But I also know the value of someone being there. Even if you don’t talk.

“It’s not easy, what you’re going through,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “What happened... with your father.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, but I can feel the shift in him, the way his grip tightens on the coffee cup. 

“I know we haven’t talked much about it,” I continue, my voice low and steady. “But if you ever want to... I’m here. I’ve been through some dark times myself. Not the same, but... I understand a bit of what it feels like to have the ground pulled out from under you.”

James lets out a slow breath, but he still doesn’t look at me. His eyes are fixed on the garden, like he’s trying to ground himself in the stillness of the morning.

“I appreciate that,” he says finally, his voice hoarse. “But... I don’t think I can talk about it. Not yet.”

There’s no anger in his voice, no resentment—just a deep, quiet sadness. And my heart goes out to him. I know what it’s like to want to open up, to want to let someone in, but not have the words. Not know how.

“That’s alright,” I tell him softly. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready to. Just know that you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. Not here.”

He nods, still staring out into the darkness. “Thanks, Angus.”

We lapse into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. There’s something... solid in just being here together, in the quiet. I may not be able to fix what he’s feeling, but maybe just being here is enough for now. 

I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s young, far too young to have seen the kind of things that leave marks like that. And I wonder how long it’ll be before he can let some of that go, if ever. But I also see the strength in him, the quiet determination. He may not feel it now, but it’s there. I can see it.

A few minutes pass, and then I hear soft footsteps behind us. I turn my head just as Ruby comes into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, her hair messy from sleep. She looks around, her eyes landing on James, and I see the relief wash over her.

“There you are,” she says, her voice soft but laced with worry. She walks over to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

James looks up at her, his expression softening. “Sorry. Didn’t want to wake you.”

She shakes her head, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “It’s okay. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

For a moment, I watch them together—my daughter and this young man who’s become like another part of our family. There’s something between them, something strong and deep, and it gives me hope that maybe, in time, he’ll heal. Maybe, with Ruby by his side, he’ll find a way to move forward.

Ruby straightens up, giving me a small smile before turning her attention back to James. “Want some breakfast?”

James shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks.”

She nods, then glances at me. “What about you, Dad?”

I smile at her. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

As she moves around the kitchen, I look back at James. He’s still quiet, still processing. But I can see the smallest shift in him, a tiny crack in the walls he’s built around himself. And maybe that’s enough for today.

We’ll take it one day at a time. 

Chapter Text

James

Week two at the Bell’s, and I’m finally settling in. The place feels more and more  like home, more than anything else has in a long time. It’s good to have somewhere I can just be. Relax. Recharge. And, of course, there’s Ruby. That’s the best part of it all—having so much time with her, not just the chance to have that closeness, though, yeah, that too. But it’s more than that. It’s the little things, like hanging out together, watching movies, finally returning to reading Harry Potter. Making her laugh at some dumb joke I crack just to see her smile. 

I love it. I love giving her all the snuggles she’ll let me, and she never seems to mind, even when I’m practically glued to her. We have all this time, and it feels... easy. It’s everything I’ve always wanted, everything I was afraid I’d never have.

But there’s this... shadow hanging over it. We haven’t managed to talk about that night. It’s like we locked it away after that first conversation, like some kind of unspoken agreement. And now it feels harder to go back to it every day that passes. The weird part is, I can’t even complain. She’s here for me, in every way I can dream of. She makes me feel so loved, so safe. I’ve never felt this... seen before. Like every part of me that’s been broken and bruised is somehow understood and cared for.

But what about her? That question keeps gnawing at me. Am I doing the same for her? Am I supporting her the way she’s supporting me? I don’t know. And the thing is, I’m not even trying hard enough to find out. 

Some part of me is terrified of bringing it up again. I’m scared of the confrontation, scared of what she might say, or worse, what she won’t say. So I let it slide. She’s got so much on her plate—exam prep, her job, life in general—and I tell myself this isn’t the time to bring up something that feels so... heavy.

But sometimes, at night, when we’re together, when I’m holding her and everything feels perfect on the surface, I get this feeling that there’s a part of her I can’t reach. Like she’s holding something back. And it haunts me. Because I want to know her fully, every bit of her. But instead, I just keep quiet. I don’t even know how to start the conversation, and every time I think about it, the words seem to vanish.

So I tell myself tomorrow. I’ll ask her tomorrow. And then I don’t. And the days go on, and I’m still here, still waiting, feeling more at home in her life than I ever have anywhere else, but still afraid I’m not giving her what she needs.

Ruby

I keep telling myself it’s okay. That it’s better to focus on the present, on the fact that James is here with me, in my life, in my bed, in my arms. And it is okay, right? He’s healing. We’re healing. We’ve built something good together. I don’t want to lose that by going back to that night, to the lies, to the things that still feel too raw to touch. 

I can feel it sometimes, though. This unspoken thing between us. I see it in the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not noticing, that flicker of something unresolved. But then he smiles or makes some joke, and I push it aside. I’ve convinced myself that it’s more important to give him space, to let him recover without digging into the ugliness of what happened. He’s been through enough already. 

And honestly? I don’t even know if I’m ready to go back there. I think about that night, and it’s like a knot tightens in my chest. I don’t know if I can handle reliving it, not when we’ve come so far. He’s been doing better—so much better—and I’m terrified that dragging this back up will undo everything. 

So I try to keep moving forward. I throw myself into my exams, into work, into us. I focus on the way he holds me at night, the way he makes me laugh, the way he’s always there, giving me all the love I could ever ask for. Sometimes I wonder if that’s enough. Sometimes I wonder if he’s waiting for me to say something, to give him a way back into that conversation. But I can’t. Not yet. 

Maybe I’m just relieved. I’m relieved he’s here, that he’s safe, that we’ve made it through so much already. Part of me thinks he needs more time. Another part of me wonders if we’ll ever be ready to talk about it. It’s like there’s a crack in the foundation, and I’m afraid that poking at it will make everything crumble. 

So I let it go. I keep quiet. And I hope, for now, that what we have is enough to keep us moving forward. But in the quiet moments, when we’re lying together and I feel him stir beside me, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s missing. That we’re still carrying this weight, both of us, pretending it’s not there. 

I don’t know. Maybe we’re not ready yet. Maybe we’re both just holding on to what we have and hoping it’ll be enough to heal the parts we’re still too afraid to touch.

James is trying. I see it in all the small things he does for me, the things that don’t need to be said. He shows up outside the deli where I work twice a week, leaning against the lamppost like he’s been there forever, waiting for me to finish my shift. He walks me home, sometimes quietly, sometimes with that easy banter we’ve always had, his hand brushing mine, fingers warm even in the cold. And when it rains, he’s there with the car, ready to drive me home so I don’t have to walk in the downpour. It’s sweet, and it makes my heart swell in ways I can’t even begin to explain. 

He helps Ember with her homework too. I often see them bent over a book or her notes, James’s concentration intense as if he’s the one preparing for an exam. He does it so I don’t have to, so I can focus on my own studies without worrying about anyone else. I know he’s trying to make things easier for me, giving me all these little acts of love, making sure I feel supported. And I do. God, I do. 

But then there are the days when he disappears for a few hours, spending afternoons at Alistair’s or somewhere else, saying he wants to give me space. He says it like he’s casual, but I know it’s because he thinks he’s hovering too much, taking up too much room in my life. And I get it. I love having him here, every moment of every day, but I can’t deny there are times when I feel like I’m holding my breath. Like there’s so much we’re not saying. And maybe he feels that too.

When he leaves for those few hours, I miss him. I miss his presence, the way he fills the space with his quiet strength and his warmth. But I know why he’s doing it, why he’s giving me that time to myself. He thinks I need a break from him, and maybe sometimes I do, but it’s never because I don’t want him around. It’s because I’m still figuring out how to process everything, how to move forward without digging up the past.

And through all of it, I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing the same. If he’s giving me space, not just physically, but emotionally, waiting for me to come to him. Waiting for me to be the one to break the silence.

But I don’t. Because as much as I love him—and I do, so deeply—I’m not ready to go back to that night, to the weight of everything we haven’t said. So I let him wait for me outside the deli. I let him pick me up when it rains. I let him help with Ember’s homework. I let him think that giving me space is what I need. And in a way, it is. 

But more than that, I need to feel like we can keep moving forward, even without talking about the things that still hang between us. For now, it’s enough that he’s here. That he’s trying. That we’re trying.

Ember

James is… different from what I expected. I mean, I thought he’d be this super intense guy who’d take up all of Ruby’s time and attention, and, well, he has done that. Ruby’s always with him, and I guess that’s normal—they’re in love or whatever—but I used to have more of her to myself. We’d hang out after school, watch dumb TV shows, talk about stuff. Now, James is just always there.

But the thing is, he’s not bad. Actually, he’s pretty great most of the time. He’s easy to be around, which surprises me. Like, he’s funny in this dry, sarcastic way that always catches me off guard. And he helps me with my homework—especially math, which he’s scarily good at. We’ll be stuck on some impossible algebra problem, and James will just look at it for like five seconds before he’s solving it. It makes me roll my eyes, but it’s also a relief because, honestly, I don’t think Ruby’s ever had the patience for algebra. 

The best part? He includes me. Like, genuinely. Ruby used to do that too, at least recently, but now it feels more like it’s him making sure I’m part of things. When they go over to Alistair’s place on weekends, James never even questions whether I should come along. It’s just expected, like I’m part of the group. I think that’s because of his relationship with his own sister, Lydia. He’s close to her, like really close, and I guess he sees me and Ruby that way too, even though Ruby’s, you know, my big sister, not my twin. Still, it’s nice to feel included. I didn’t expect that from him. 

And their friends? They’ve just accepted me like I’ve always been there. Alistair, Wren, Lin—all of them. Maybe it’s because I’m younger, or maybe it’s because I’m Ruby’s sister, but no one ever acts like I’m tagging along or out of place. That’s something James has done for me. He’s made me feel like I belong, not like an annoying kid sister, but like someone who matters to him. That’s more than Ruby’s doing, if I’m honest.

But sometimes… I don’t know. There’s this thing about him I can’t quite figure out. Like he’s here, but also not here, if that makes sense. He’s always physically present, like making breakfast or helping with chores or picking Ruby up from work. But it’s like part of him is somewhere else, his mind in another place. I notice it sometimes when we’re all hanging out, laughing at something Alistair said, and James will just get quiet for a second, this weird look in his eyes. He snaps out of it pretty quickly, but I see it. I don’t think Ruby notices, or if she does, she doesn’t say anything.

It’s hard to explain. I know he loves Ruby, and I know he cares about me too, but there’s a part of him that feels… distant. Like he’s holding back something, keeping it just out of reach. I don’t know what it is, but sometimes it makes me wonder if he’s really okay, or if he’s just really good at pretending to be.

James

Ruby's been off for a few days now, but today… it’s different. She’s barely functioning. After breakfast, she just quietly tells me she’s going back to bed, and I can see it in her face. She’s exhausted, and not just the “I stayed up too late” kind. It’s like everything has caught up with her, like she’s hit a wall. 

I try not to show how worried I am, but the second she’s curled up under the covers, my heart sinks. For the last few weeks I’ve relied on her to be… well, Ruby. Steady. Strong. The one who keeps me grounded, who’s always there, supporting me no matter what mess I drag us through. And now, seeing her like this—barely able to keep her eyes open, so wiped out—something inside me twists with guilt.

I grab my flash cards, but I’m not really reading them. I’m lying next to her, flipping through them more out of habit than anything, trying to keep myself busy. But all I can think about is her. Her steady breathing, the way she’s curled up on her side, clutching the pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her afloat. She’s always been my rock, and now it feels like she’s slipping away, even though she’s right here.

I know it’s my fault. How could it not be? Everything we’ve been through—the stress, the drama, the lies I told her. She was there for me through it all, and now it’s catching up to her. I didn’t think about what it would cost her to carry so much of my burden, to always be the one holding me together. And now she’s paying for it, and I don’t know how to make it better.

I keep glancing at her, hoping she’ll wake up soon, so I can hold her and tell her it’s okay, that it’s fine if she’s out of spoons. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to be strong right now, that it’s my turn to be there for her. But every time I open my mouth to say something, the words just don’t come. How do you even begin to tell someone you’ve relied on too much? That maybe you’ve leaned so hard on them that they’ve finally broken a little?

I let out a breath, flipping over the same card for the tenth time, still not reading it. She’s always been the one holding me when I fall apart, and now it’s her turn to be held. So I’ll wait. I’ll be here when she wakes up. I won’t push her, but I’ll let her know I’m here, no matter what.

She stirs a little in her sleep, and I brush a strand of hair from her face. It’s okay if she’s not okay today. It’s okay if she’s out of spoons. I’ll be her steady for once, like she’s been mine. 

She deserves to be taken care of, too. And I just hope I can do it as well as she’s done it for me.

Ruby

When I wake up, the room is quiet, and for a second, I forget where I am. It’s that kind of sleep—the deep, heavy kind where you lose track of everything. My body feels like lead, but when I roll over, James is there, lying on his side, his head propped up on one hand, watching me. 

He smiles, soft and warm, and his free hand moves to brush my hair back from my face. “Hey,” he whispers. His voice is low, gentle, like he’s afraid of disturbing something fragile.

I blink slowly, still half-asleep, trying to process the fact that I’m here, that he’s here. And then it hits me, that tiredness, that weight pressing down on me like I’m carrying the world on my back. I’ve been so wiped out lately, and I hate that he has to see me like this—exhausted, drained, barely able to function. 

But he’s not saying anything about it. He just pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I can feel his warmth, steady and real. I sink into it, letting the tension in my body melt away, my head resting against his chest. For a moment, I don’t have to be strong. I don’t have to hold everything together. I can just… be.

“It’s okay, you know,” he says softly, like he’s reading my mind. “If you need a break. If you need… time.” His hand rubs slow circles on my back, and I close my eyes, soaking in the comfort, the reassurance in his voice.

I don’t respond right away, but I feel the knot in my chest start to loosen, just a little. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. That it’s okay to not be okay. That I don’t always have to be the strong one. I don’t have to carry everything by myself.

He’s still here. He’s not going anywhere.

“I’m here for all of it, Ruby,” he continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not just the fun parts. Not just when everything’s good. For this too. You don’t have to hold it all together by yourself.”

I nod, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. I don’t have the energy to say much, but I think he knows. He always knows.

For a long time, we just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the house quiet around us. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek, his heartbeat calm and constant. And for the first time in what feels like days, maybe weeks, I start to relax.

“Can you read to me?” I ask after a while, my voice muffled against his skin. I know he’s been studying, that he’s got a million other things he could be doing, but right now, I just want to hear his voice. Something familiar. Something that feels like home.

“Harry Potter?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

I nod, and he shifts us both so he can reach for the book on the nightstand. I stay curled up in his arms, my head resting on his chest while he opens the book and starts reading. His voice is low and soothing, and I lose myself in the familiar story, in the comfort of it, of him. He reads for hours, stopping only to kiss the top of my head or adjust the blanket around me, like he’s making sure I’m as cozy as possible.

I drift in and out of sleep, listening to the sound of his voice, the steady rhythm of the words blending with the warmth of his body against mine. And every time I wake up, he’s still there, still reading, his voice as calm and steady as ever.

By the time the afternoon starts to fade into evening, I feel like I can breathe again. I’m still tired, but it’s a different kind of tired. The weight is still there, but it feels a little lighter now, like maybe I don’t have to carry it all alone.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, just before we get up for dinner. I look up at him, and he smiles that soft smile of his, the one that makes me feel like everything is going to be okay, even when it’s not.

“For what?” he asks, his hand brushing lightly over my arm.

“For today. For… just being here.”

His smile deepens, and he kisses my forehead. “Always,” he says. And I believe him.

As we head downstairs, I hold onto that feeling—the warmth, the safety of being wrapped in his arms, the quiet comfort of knowing he’s here, not just for the good moments, but for all of it. For me, no matter what.

James

I lie there, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. It’s shitty timing—of course it is. Ruby’s just starting to get some rest, and here I am, wide awake, caught in this cycle of thoughts that won’t quit. I know what’s bothering her, what’s weighing her down, even if she hasn’t said it yet. And I know, I have to ask. I have to bring it up, name it. But the words feel stuck. Like they’d only make things worse if I say them out loud.

She stirs next to me, shifting in her sleep. I glance over, watching her eyelashes flutter against her cheek, her breathing soft and steady. She’s right here. I could wake her up and just... talk to her. But that feels impossible, too. How do I start a conversation like that when she’s so worn out, so fragile right now?

Her eyes flutter open, and for a moment, she just looks at me, those big, expressive eyes searching my face. I try to hold her gaze, but I don’t have the words. Nothing feels right to say. So, I reach for her instead. 

My hand finds hers, fingers threading together, and her lips twitch into a soft smile, still sleepy, still half lost in dreams. I don’t need to ask. Not now. Not with words. There are other ways to say what I need to say.

I shift closer to her, pulling her gently toward me until her body presses against mine. She sighs, a soft sound of contentment, and I brush my lips over her forehead, then down to her cheek, her jaw. There’s no rush, no urgency, just a quiet need to connect, to remind her of everything that’s unsaid between us.

Slowly, I let my hand drift down her side, feeling the curve of her hip beneath my fingers, the familiar warmth of her skin. She moves with me, tilting her head back slightly, offering her throat as I kiss my way down, savoring the way her body responds. 

I ease myself on top of her, careful, mindful of the aches in my body, but God, it feels good to be here again, to feel her beneath me. It’s the first time since... since everything. And as I settle my weight over her, supported on my elbows, I can see her eyes flutter shut again, that trust in her expression, like she knows this is what I mean. This is what I’m trying to say.

I let my hands roam, tracing the soft line of her collarbone, the curve of her waist, my touch light but deliberate, every movement saying, I’m here. I see you. You’re not alone. 

Her breath hitches when I find a sensitive spot just below her ribs, and she shifts beneath me, arching her back slightly, inviting me closer. 

My mouth finds hers then, slow and deep, a kiss that holds everything I can’t put into words. She responds in kind, her hands slipping into my hair, pulling me closer, her body yielding beneath mine like she’s been waiting for this as much as I have. There’s no rush, no frenzy, just the steady rhythm of our breathing, the quiet connection that builds between us, unspoken.

I ease a hand between us, slipping it down, feeling her body open to me, soft and ready. Her breath stutters, and I take my time, savoring every little reaction, every quiet gasp, the way her body fits against mine like we were made for this. 

When I finally move inside her, it’s slow, deliberate, and I feel her exhale, a shuddering breath, her hands tightening around my shoulders as she pulls me closer. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, the warmth of her skin, the way her body moves with mine, in perfect rhythm. 

We move together like that, slow and tender, no words needed. Just the feeling of her beneath me, her breath in my ear, the soft gasps that escape her lips, the way her body responds to every touch, every shift. I can feel her heart beating against my chest, the steady thrum of it matching my own, and I know—this is how I tell her. This is how I show her that I’m here, that I’ll always be here.

Her legs wrap around me, pulling me closer, and I lose myself in her, in the warmth of her body, the soft sounds of her pleasure, the way she clings to me like she needs this as much as I do. I move slowly, deliberately, savoring every second, every small reaction, the way her body trembles beneath mine as we build together, the tension between us growing until it’s almost unbearable.

When she finally comes, it’s quiet, soft, just a whispered gasp, her fingers digging into my back as she holds me close. I follow her a moment later, burying myself deep inside her, letting the release wash over me, pulling her even closer as I lose myself in her.

For a while, we just lie there, tangled together, our breathing slowly evening out. I press my lips to her forehead, then to her temple, whispering a soft, “I love you” against her skin. She smiles, her eyes still closed, her arms still wrapped around me, holding me like she never wants to let go.

Ruby

I lie there in the quiet, my body still humming from what just happened, feeling the weight of James on top of me, his warmth sinking into my skin. My breath is still uneven, but it’s starting to steady, and as I open my eyes, I can see the faint outline of his face in the dim light, pressed close to mine, his lips still brushing my temple.

He’s trying. I can feel it in the way he’s holding me, in the care of every kiss, every touch. It’s like he’s reaching out to me without words, pouring everything into this moment—his worry, his love, his need to be close, to show me that he’s here, that he sees me.

For today, that’s enough.

I close my eyes again, letting out a long breath, sinking further into the bed, into him. I’m tired, in every possible way, and it’s been so hard to keep it all together lately. I know he knows. He doesn’t have to say it, and neither do I. There’s this unspoken understanding between us, something deeper than words. 

And as much as I feel like I’m falling apart sometimes, like all the things that happened are finally catching up to me, I know James is trying to catch me. He’s doing what he can, in his own way. And tonight, his way was this—showing me with his body, holding me close, being here in the way that only he can.

He shifts slightly, pulling the blanket over us, and I feel his lips press softly to my forehead again, that quiet gesture that always makes me feel safe. I turn my face into his neck, breathing him in, his familiar scent, his warmth. There’s something so comforting in the weight of his body on mine, the way he’s always been able to ground me, to make me feel like I’m not lost, even when everything feels like too much.

His arms tighten around me, and I snuggle deeper into his embrace, letting myself just be for a moment—no pressure, no expectations, no pretending to be okay when I’m not. Just me and him, here, in this quiet space we’ve carved out together.

I feel him exhale, a long, slow breath, like he’s trying to let go of some of his own worries too. His hand moves gently up and down my back, soothing, steady. I can feel the care in every movement, the quiet reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this.

It’s enough. For today, it’s enough.

Maybe we’ll talk tomorrow. Maybe we won’t. But right now, in this moment, I don’t need to say anything. I just need this—his closeness, his love, the way he’s always tried to make me feel like I’m enough, even when I’m struggling to believe it myself.

I press a soft kiss to his chest, right where his heart is beating, and he murmurs something against my hair, his voice low and sleepy. It’s not much, just a quiet acknowledgment, but it’s everything I need.

I know he’s worried, that he feels like he needs to do more. But tonight, what he gave me is exactly what I needed. And as I drift back to sleep in his arms, I let myself believe that, for now, it’s okay. 

James

I lie there in the dark, my eyes tracing the outline of the ceiling, the faint shapes of the furniture, listening to Ruby’s slow, steady breathing beside me. She’s asleep now, curled into me, her body warm and soft, her hand resting lightly on my chest. I should be asleep too, but instead, I’m just...thinking. Watching. 

Taking stock.

Physically, I’m okay. More than okay, actually. It feels ridiculous to admit, but being on top of her again tonight—feeling her beneath me, the weight of my body pressing into hers—it meant something. Something important. I’ve always liked it when it’s like this, the closeness, the connection, the way we move together. Maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it’s about control, about being in charge of something, anything, when so much of my life has felt out of control for so long. 

And yeah, sure, there are still some things I can’t quite do yet. I’m not at full strength, but I’m getting there. Just the fact that I can roll onto my stomach now, prop up on my elbow without wincing, feels like a win. It’s the little things, right? 

But I’m out of shape. I haven’t run in what feels like forever. Maybe I’ll start again. Maybe lacrosse again, once I’m feeling stronger. It’s funny how something as simple as physical fitness feels like such a huge victory now, but that’s where I’m at. Gotta take what I can get.

Mentally, though...well, that’s another story. 

I’m avoiding things. I know I am. Certain thoughts, certain memories, they creep up on me when I’m not paying attention. At night, especially. Like now. Or sometimes during the day, out of nowhere. I’ll be doing something completely normal, something simple, and suddenly it’s there—the weight of everything. The things I don’t want to think about. The things I haven’t dealt with. 

But I can’t let that fall on Ruby. She’s already carrying enough, and right now, she’s barely holding it together herself. The last thing she needs is me dumping my mess on her, adding to her burden. That’s my job to sort out. My mess to deal with.

I glance down at her, her face peaceful in sleep, her breath warm against my skin. She’s been my rock through all of this, steady and strong, always there when I needed her. But now, she’s the one who’s exhausted, who’s running on empty, and it’s my turn to be here for her. I need to be the one holding her up this time. 

But I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing enough. 

I brush a strand of hair from her face, careful not to wake her, and let out a quiet breath. I’m still here, though. I’m still fighting. And for now, that has to count for something.

Tomorrow, maybe we’ll talk. Or maybe we won’t. But tonight, I’m here, making sure she can rest.

Chapter Text

Helen

It’s strange sometimes, seeing Ruby and James together like that—so close, so comfortable with each other. I mean, I know they’re adults now, and I’m grateful they’re so considerate when anyone else is around. They’re discreet, always careful, but still, I’m her mother. It’s hard not to think about it. Sometimes, it’s the little things—a glance, a touch on the arm, the way they lean into each other when they think no one’s paying attention. It’s sweet, but it’s still new to me. I guess it’s always a bit of an adjustment when your child becomes someone else’s person in that way.

I do love seeing them together, though. They’ve built something solid between them, something real. There’s this gentleness in the way James is with her, like he’s always tuned into her, always watching out for her without making it obvious. I see it in the small things—the way he hands her a cup of tea when she’s too focused on studying, or how he instinctively reaches for her hand when she’s had a rough day. He loves her deeply, and I know Ruby feels safe with him, but I also see the toll it’s all been taking on her.

She’s been so tired lately. Today, she barely made it through breakfast before heading back to bed, too exhausted even to focus on her exam prep. I can see how worried James is, and honestly, I am too. Ruby’s always been the steady one, always the one holding everyone together. But right now, it’s like all the weight of what they’ve been through is catching up to her, and she’s just wiped out. 

James stayed with her this morning, lying beside her while she slept. I caught a glimpse of them when I went upstairs to check on her. He wasn’t even really studying—just flipping through flashcards, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. He looks at her like he’s carrying the blame for all of it, like he thinks this is his fault somehow. I know him well enough by now to see it. He’s always been harder on himself than anyone else could ever be. 

But it’s not just him. It’s everything—the last few months have been heavy on them both. Life hasn’t exactly been kind. And Ruby… well, she’s strong, but even the strongest people need a break sometimes. It’s hard for her to accept that, I think, and maybe hard for James too, in a different way. He relies on her being the steady one, the constant. But she’s only human, and even Ruby can’t always be that. 

I wonder how long they can keep this up, though. James is so good at pushing things aside, at pretending he’s okay for Ruby’s sake. But I see him. I see the cracks. He’s been through so much, and I’m not sure how long he can keep shielding Ruby from all of it. They haven’t talked about it yet, not really. I think they’re both afraid of what might happen when they do. 

Still, there’s so much love between them. That much is obvious. When Ruby woke up this afternoon, I could hear their voices, low and soft from upstairs. James was just… there. Holding her, reassuring her, telling her it’s okay that she’s tired, that she doesn’t have to be strong all the time. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him take care of her like that, but it’s always comforting to witness. He’s trying so hard to be what she needs right now, and for today, it’s enough.

I just hope it stays enough. Life’s not always this simple, and love—no matter how strong—sometimes needs more than just quiet afternoons and soft reassurances. There’s a lot ahead for them. I worry about how they’ll navigate the harder times, when the weight of everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve avoided, finally demands to be dealt with. But for now, they’re okay. 

I’m grateful for that. But I’m her mother, so I’ll always worry. That’s just part of the deal, I guess.

Ruby

As I sit at my desk, surrounded by stacks of textbooks and notes, the weight of impending final exams feels almost unbearable. With everything that’s happened with James and the chaos surrounding his family, my focus has been fractured. I need to excel in these exams; my Oxford scholarship depends on it, and that knowledge gnaws at me like a persistent ache. 

The thrill of learning still ignites a fire within me, but the pressure to achieve feels all-consuming. I glance around my cluttered desk, the papers and notes vying for my attention, and I remind myself that I can’t let distractions derail my efforts. I take a deep breath, trying to quell the anxiety simmering beneath the surface.

James walks into the room, his presence a sudden, calming balm. He catches sight of my scattered books and furrows his brow. “Need a study buddy?” he asks, leaning casually against the doorframe, his tone teasing.

“More like a miracle worker,” I reply with a sigh, grateful for his offer. “I can’t seem to keep my head straight with all this pressure.”

He steps closer, scanning the chaos on my desk. “What’s on the agenda today?” 

“Essay for the philosophy, I hate that Sutton’s gone,” I say, trying to keep the determination in my voice steady. “I need to nail this if I want the scholarship.”

James nods, his expression shifting to one of genuine concern. “You’ve always been brilliant at this stuff. Why not take a break? We can go for a run or something — and then you go back to it.”

I hesitate. “Running? I never thought that would help with studying.”

“It’s not just running; it’s about shaking off the stress,” he insists, a playful grin breaking across his face. “I promise it’ll clear your mind. Plus, I’ll let you win.” 

I can’t help but laugh, appreciating his lightheartedness. “You think so? You know I need the exercise, especially with the way you sprint ahead.”

“Come on, Ruby! You can totally keep up. I believe in you! Plus, I‘m so out of shape, it’s embarrassing.“

His unwavering confidence in me is infectious, and I feel a flicker of excitement. “Okay, let’s do it. But you better not go easy on me this time.”

We finish discussing my study material, and I feel a renewed sense of purpose as we dive into the key points. I can’t help but admire how James’s sharp insights sharpen my own thoughts. 

As the sun begins to dip low in the sky, casting a warm glow across my desk, I’m surprised by how energized I feel. “This was really helpful,” I admit, my smile genuine.

“Glad to hear it! Now, let’s go for that run. It’s the perfect way to clear your head before diving back into the books.”

The air outside is refreshing, and as we jog through the quiet streets, the rhythmic pounding of our feet creates a calming cadence. With each step, I feel the strain of my studies begin to dissipate, replaced by a sense of freedom. 

“Come on, Ruby! Keep up!” James calls out, his competitive spirit igniting my own. I push myself harder, exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. 

I glance over at him, his blond hair catching the sunlight as he runs ahead. “You’re not getting away that easily!” I shout, and he turns to grin at me, clearly enjoying the challenge.

As we approach the final stretch, my competitive edge kicks in. “Victory is mine!” I call out, racing past him in a last-minute sprint.

“Not if I can help it!” he laughs, kicking it up a notch and nearly catching me. I reach the imaginary finish line first, breathless and exhilarated.

“Two for two! I’m unstoppable!” I tease, hands on my hips as I catch my breath.

“Okay, you can have this one,” he concedes, panting lightly. “But don’t think I won’t challenge you again. I’m coming for my title back.”

As we stroll back to the house, I feel the academic pressures lift, even if just for a moment. It’s in these small victories—both in our studies and our playful competition—that I find balance.

James’s presence is a steadying force in my life, allowing me to embrace the academic challenges without feeling overwhelmed. I realize how fortunate I am to have him by my side, someone who not only encourages my achievements but knows exactly when to lighten the load. 

Returning to my books after our run, I feel renewed and ready to tackle my studies once more. I glance at James, who is pottering around in the kitchen with my dad, the sound of their laughter filling the house. 

*****

As the days blur together between James moving in with us and the impending final exams, I find some solace in our routine. He’s a fantastic study buddy, always ready to dive into discussions and challenge my thoughts. Yet, beneath that surface of comfort and shared laughter lies an undercurrent of tension that I can’t quite shake.

What happened is still hanging over us—his decision that he confronted Mortimer alone and how that affected us. Me. It’s a truth that I can’t ignore, even though I want to. He faced that monster, fought his own battles, and I wasn’t there. It’s not that I distrust him; I trust him with my whole heart. But part of me feels like I’ve built a wall around my emotions, a barrier I erected to protect myself from the chaos swirling around us.

I catch glimpses of this wall whenever we’re together, moments where the air thickens with unspoken words and emotions. It’s not always palpable, but it’s there—a weight between us that shifts the dynamic. Sometimes, I can see it in the way James looks at me, a mix of concern and understanding, as if he knows I’m holding back but isn’t quite sure how to help me break through.

He’s made attempts to reach me, gentle nudges that don’t push but rather invite. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Ruby,” he’ll say, his voice low and earnest. “I want to help you through this. Whenever you’re ready.”

It’s in those moments that I feel the weight of my silence. I want to respond, to tell him that I feel changed too, that I’m grappling with emotions I can’t fully articulate. But the words slip away like sand through my fingers, leaving me feeling trapped in my own mind. 

Our study sessions are punctuated with laughter, the two of us bantering about everything from history essays to who can make the best cup of tea. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re both navigating a tightrope, trying to maintain balance amid the tremors beneath our feet. 

Sometimes, I catch myself staring at him while he’s lost in thought, a brow furrowed as he pores over his notes. He’s ridiculously beautiful, with that sun-kissed blond hair falling into his eyes, and it stirs something deep within me. But there’s also a heaviness to his expression, a reminder of the trauma he carries and the choices he made. It’s like we’re both holding these burdens, aware of their weight but unsure how to share the load.

“Are you okay?” he asks one afternoon, glancing up from his notes. “You’ve been quiet.”

I nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Yeah, just thinking about the exams.”

He studies me for a moment, his gaze penetrating. “You know, if you need to talk about anything—”

“I’m fine, really,” I interject, not wanting to delve into the complexities swirling in my heart. “I just need to focus.”

I can see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes, quickly masked by a facade of understanding. It stings, but I can’t help it. I’m afraid that if I let him in completely, I’ll unravel, and I can’t afford that—not now, not with everything at stake.

After our study sessions, we often retreat to the quiet of the kitchen, where my dad is pottering about, sometimes preparing dinner while we steal glances at each other, teasing with playful jabs. Those moments provide a respite from the heaviness, but there’s always that lingering weight, the acknowledgment of what lies unspoken between us.

As I lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, I wonder if James feels it too. That piece of me that feels hardened, like a stone lodged deep in my chest, is inaccessible now. I’m functional, yes, but at what cost? How do I explain that I’ve become someone new in the aftermath of his confrontation? 

I wish I could find the right words to bridge that gap, to communicate that my silence isn’t a rejection of him but a struggle within myself. But the more I try to articulate it, the more elusive it feels. I know I need to talk to him, to unravel the tangled web of my emotions, but I fear it will only deepen the distance I’m trying so hard to manage.

Eventually, I drift into a restless sleep, hoping that tomorrow will bring clarity—some breakthrough that allows me to connect with him fully again. Because despite everything, despite the barriers, I love him. I love him fiercely, and I want to show him that. But right now, it feels like the only thing I can offer is my trust, a trust that stretches across the chasm of unspoken feelings between us.

James

The school parking lot is quieter than usual as I pull up outside the events committee meeting. I glance at the clock on the dashboard and realize I’m a little early. 

As I sit there, my mind drifts back to all the moments we’ve shared recently—the laughter, the intimacy, the way her smile lights up my day. But there’s also an undercurrent of worry, a feeling that things aren’t as simple as they seem. I want to be there for her, to support her, but I also sense that she’s still carrying the weight from everything we’ve been through.

A few minutes later, the door swings open, and I spot Ruby stepping out, her hair tousled, a stack of papers clutched in her hands. She starts walking towards the path to the mainroad where the busstop is, and my heart sinks a little. I wish she wouldn’t think she has to do everything on her own.

I hop out of the car, grinning as I call out to her. “Hey! Need a ride?” 

She looks surprised, her eyes widening as she spots me. “James! I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you shouldn’t have to wait for the bus. It’s a long enough day as it is.” I motion for her to come over, feeling a surge of affection at the sight of her. 

But then I catch her hesitation, and a flicker of annoyance rises in me. “You know, I’m just a text away. You could’ve asked me to pick you up.”

Her expression shifts, and suddenly, she’s on the defensive. “I didn’t want to bother you. I can handle it.”

My frown deepens, the irritation bubbling up. “Ruby, it’s not a bother. You don’t have to do everything alone. I‘m here.”

“Right, because it’s not like you’re the expert at doing things all on your own,” she snaps back, the sharpness in her voice cutting through the evening air. “Maybe I just took a page out of your book.”

Her words hit me hard. I’m taken aback, shocked by her sudden defensiveness. It’s been a long time since I was at the receiving end of Ruby dishing out.

I know she’s right, though. I’ve been navigating my own struggles alone for so long that I sometimes forget she’s dealing with her own demons too.

For a moment, we stand there, tension crackling between us. This can go both ways now and it’s up to me to decide.

But I decide to step closer, opening my arms. Because I know I‘m the one who messed up.

“You’re allowed to feel hurt, Ruby. You’re allowed to lash out. I get it, okay? Just—come here.” 

She hesitates for a heartbeat, then steps into my embrace. I hold her tightly, feeling her frustration mix with the warmth of our embrace. “You’re right,” I murmur against her hair. “I shouldn’t act like I know what you’re going through. But I’m going to keep showing up for you, regardless. Not because I owe you anything, but because I want to.“

She sighs, melting against me, her body relaxing in my arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… “

“I get it,” I reply, stroking her back soothingly. “But you’re not alone. You don’t have to handle everything by yourself. We’re a team, remember?” 

Ruby pulls back slightly, looking up at me, her eyes softening. “Yeah, I do remember. I just—sometimes it’s hard to let go of that feeling.”

“I know. But I’m right here,” I say, my voice steady. 

She nods, a small smile breaking through the remnants of her frustration. “Okay. Thanks for picking me up, James. “

“Always,” I say, giving her one last squeeze before releasing her. 

We settle into the car, the quiet between us not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken words. I keep my eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel a little too tight. I can feel her next to me, the weight of everything she’s holding onto. And I know this silence isn’t the one we need. 

After a few minutes, I break it, keeping my voice low. “Do you think we should talk?”

I don’t look at her. I don’t need to. I know the question hits home. I can feel her shift in her seat, her breath catching a little. When she answers, it’s barely a whisper. 

“I can’t, James. Not right now. I’m sorry.”

The apology stings, not because she’s rejecting me but because I know how much pain she must be in to even say it. She’s always been the strong one. The one who takes care of everyone. And now, she can’t even take care of herself. 

“It’s okay,” I murmur, keeping my voice steady, even though everything inside me is unraveling. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

The rest of the drive is quiet, the road stretched out before us, a line we’re both afraid to cross. Back home, dinner is ready, and we move through the motions—eating, smiling at the right moments—but there’s a distance between us now. One I don’t know how to close.

Afterwards, she heads upstairs, saying she needs to do some homework. I watch her go, my chest tight, knowing she’s retreating into herself. When I finally finish cleaning the kitchen and make my way upstairs, I find her already in bed, the soft rise and fall of her breath telling me she’s close to sleep. 

I slip under the covers beside her, careful not to wake her, but she stirs anyway, turning into me. Her head rests against my chest, her body seeking mine out even in sleep. It’s instinctual, the way she snuggles into me, and for a moment, I’m relieved. 

I kiss her forehead, wrapping my arms around her, holding her close. And even though she’s drifting off, even though we haven’t had the conversation we need, I know we’ll get there. We have to.

_____

It’s the middle of the night, and the house is still. I lie awake, watching Ruby sleep beside me, her face peaceful in the moonlight. Her room, tucked under her parents’ roof, has this sense of safety I’m still getting used to. It’s different here—this house is different. It feels warm, like the laughter at dinner somehow lingers in the walls. There’s something comforting about it all, something I never had growing up.

But tonight, it’s not enough to settle my mind.

I can’t shake the weight that’s been pressing on me—the thoughts I’ve tried pushing away since that night with my father, since everything that happened. It feels like a shadow that won’t leave, even when I’m here, with her, in the safest place I’ve ever known. It’s why I wanted to talk earlier, to get some of it out in the open.

But Ruby had said she couldn’t. She couldn’t talk about it tonight, and I hadn’t pushed. Maybe I should’ve.

She stirs a little, her hand brushing the pillow, and I can’t stop myself from reaching out, my fingers grazing the bare skin of her arm. The touch is gentle, hesitant even, but there’s this need inside me, this pull to feel her close. I know she’s struggling too, with her own thoughts, her own feelings. We’ve both been carrying so much lately.

I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, hoping the touch will be enough, that it’ll ease this tension in my chest. She stirs again, her breathing changing, and her eyes flutter open, sleepy but immediately finding mine.

“James?” she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Yeah, love,” I whisper, kissing her shoulder again, trying to ground myself in her warmth. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She stretches a little, her body arching slightly as she blinks at me, still half-asleep but with that soft smile she always gives me. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice a little dreamy. But then her smile fades just a bit, her eyes searching mine. She knows something’s up. 

We don’t need words for that.

“You couldn’t sleep?” she asks, her hand coming up to gently rest on my arm.

I shake my head, letting out a quiet sigh. “Just… thinking.”

She nods, not pressing, but I can see in her eyes that she understands. She shifts, pulling me closer, and I can feel the silent apology there—the apology for not being able to talk earlier. She had her reasons, and I get it, I really do. But the weight of everything still feels heavy between us, unspoken but present.

I lean in, kissing her gently, trying to tell her through touch what I couldn’t earlier. My lips trail down her neck, slow and deliberate, and I can feel her relax beneath me, her body softening. She sighs, shifting onto her back, her eyes meeting mine with that look she gives me when she knows I need something more than words.

“James…” she whispers, her hand coming up to cup my face, her thumb brushing my cheek. Her voice is soft, comforting, but there’s an edge of tension there too. We both feel it.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, though I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. Maybe for pushing earlier, maybe for needing this so badly right now.

She shakes her head slightly, her fingers trailing through my hair. “Don’t be,” she whispers. “I just… I couldn’t tonight.”

“I know,” I say, kissing her again, this time slower, deeper. “I get it. We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

She nods, her eyes closing as I kiss her again, my hands moving to her waist, fingers tracing her skin. It’s different now, slower, more deliberate. I want her to know this isn’t just about needing to forget or pushing down the things we don’t want to face—it’s about needing her, needing this connection. Needing to feel like we’re okay, even when everything feels so uncertain.

She responds, her body shifting beneath me, her arms wrapping around my neck as she pulls me closer. There’s a softness to the way she holds me, a quiet reassurance that we’ll be okay, even if we’re not ready to talk yet.

When I move into her, her breath catches, and she pulls me even closer, her fingers tracing the muscles in my back. It’s slow, unhurried, the tension between us easing with each movement, each breath. We don’t need to say anything right now; this is enough. This closeness, this intimacy, is enough to remind us that we’re still here, together, even when the words won’t come.

Afterwards, she pulls the covers back over us, her fingers still gently tracing my skin as she settles against my chest. I press a kiss to the top of her head, holding her close, and she snuggles into me, her breathing evening out as she starts to drift back to sleep.

I lie awake for a little longer, my hand resting on her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. The weight is still there, but it feels lighter now. We’ll talk eventually, when she’s ready. But for tonight, this is enough.

Chapter Text

Ruby

I sit at my desk, my fingers tracing the edge of the textbook, though I’m not really reading. The first spring-like sun filters through the window, warming the room, but it’s not enough to melt the knot inside my chest. James is somewhere in the house—probably in the kitchen, making tea, or maybe pacing the living room. He’s been quieter since yesterday, and I feel sorry that I couldn’t open up when he tried to reach out.

It’s still there. The hurt. The fear. The anger. Everything we haven’t talked about yet, lingering between us like a shadow.

I know we’ll stay together—there’s no doubt in my mind about that. I love him, and he loves me. But what he did… it’s like a bruise I can’t stop pressing, a pain that won’t let me breathe right until we face it.

And yet… I need him. That’s what’s so twisted about all of this. He hurt me, kept me in the dark, and now he’s the only one who can help me through it. 

And he needs me. No one else knows him like I do. No one else understands the weight of what he’s been through or what it means to carry the kind of pain we both hold.

And how do we fight about this when we can’t hurt the one we need?

The door creaks open, and I know it’s him before he even speaks. I don’t look up right away, but I can feel him standing there, the air between us heavy and charged.

“Hey,” he says quietly. His voice is soft, cautious. He’s been giving me space, but we both know that can’t last much longer.

“Hey,” I reply, my voice flat, trying to keep it together.

He walks into the room, and I can hear the creak of the floorboards as he crosses over to me. He doesn’t touch me yet, but I can feel him near, the way his presence fills the space like gravity pulling me toward him.

“Ruby…” His voice cracks just a little, and I know this isn’t easy for him either. “We need to talk. I know we said, we’d wait. But I think that’s wrong.”

I nod, swallowing hard, my throat tight. I know he’s right. I know this can’t just hang between us forever. But it’s so hard to open that door—to let some of those feelings out, when they’ve been piling up inside me like a dam about to burst.

“I know,” I whisper. “I just… I don’t even know where to start.”

James kneels down in front of me, placing his hands gently on my knees. His touch is warm, familiar, but it doesn’t chase away the ache in my chest.

“Let me start then: I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with guilt. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I look into his eyes, and I can see it there—the regret, the fear, the love. It’s all tangled up inside him, just like it is in me.

“I know why you did it,” I say, my voice shaking. “I know you thought it was the only way. But James… you didn’t tell me. You just made that decision on your own, and I had to watch you come back to me—bruised, broken—and I didn’t even know why.”

He winces, his hands tightening on my knees. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t face him if I thought for even a second that you’d be waiting for me to turn back.”

“I would have stopped you,” I admit, my voice raw. “I would’ve tried. Because seeing you like that—after he beat you… it scared me so much. I can’t go through losing you.”

“You won’t lose me,” he says fiercely, his eyes burning into mine. “I swear, Ruby, I won’t ever let that happen.”

“But you didn’t know that. And you didn’t let me in,” I whisper, the tears finally spilling over. “You shut me out, and then I had to be the one to pick up the pieces after. You’re the one who hurt me, and you’re the only one I can turn to. How am I supposed to do that?”

His breath catches, and for a moment, he looks like he’s been hit, like he didn’t fully realize until now how deep this cuts.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “I know I messed up. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought… I thought we’d have time to fix it, to work through this after. I didn’t want to put you through that. But I see now… how difficult that is.”

I nod, wiping at my face, though the tears won’t stop. “I would’ve been there, James. Even if it hurt. I would’ve been there.”

“I know,” he says, his hand reaching up to brush a tear from my cheek. “And I’ll never keep something like that from you again. I promise. I was scared… scared that you’d never forgive me for what I had to do.”

I close my eyes, his touch sending a shiver through me. “I’m scared too,” I admit. “I’m scared of how much I need you right now. Because you’re the one who did this, but you’re the only one who can help me through it.”

His hand stills on my cheek, his thumb gently stroking my skin. “I’ll help you, Ruby. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

I open my eyes and look at him—really look at him—and I can see how broken he is over this too. He thought he was doing what needed to be done, but it cost us both. And now we’re standing in the wreckage, trying to find our way through.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “But this hurt, James. It hurt so much.”

“I know,” he says, his voice rough. “And I hate that I did that to you. I hate that I made you feel this way.”

He leans in, pressing his forehead against mine, and I feel his breath, warm and shaky, on my skin.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to,” he says quietly. “But I need you, Ruby. I need you to help me too.”

We’re both holding on so tight because neither of us knows how to let go. 

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close, and for a moment, we just sit there like that—holding each other, trying to mend the cracks that have formed between us.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur against his shoulder. “But you can’t do this again. You can’t shut me out.”

“I won’t,” he promises, his voice raw. “I swear, Ruby, I won’t.”

We sit like that for what feels like forever, just breathing together, letting the weight of everything we’ve been holding back fall away, piece by piece. And as we sit there, tangled together, I feel a little bit of that hurt start to lift.

We’ll get through this. I know we will. But it’s going to take time. Time and love and a lot of trust.

And I’m willing to give him all of that. 

James

Sitting on the bed now, I hold her close, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing as we sit together in the quiet. The weight of everything we’ve just said is heavy in the room, lingering in the air between us, though she’s in my arms. There’s a part of me that’s relieved we made a start, but that relief is swallowed by the guilt gnawing at me. 

I hurt her, and I knew I would. I knew what my choice meant, that she’d be terrified, that she’d be angry, that I’d break something between us. But I still did it. And now, even though she says she’s not leaving, that she’s here, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve damaged something irreparable. 

Her head rests against my chest, her breathing shallow, and I can feel the tension she’s still holding in her body. It’s like there’s this invisible wall between us now, even though she’s right here. I’ve put it there. And I have no idea how to bring it down.

I want to say something, to find the words that will make this better, but nothing seems right. There are no words for this. So I do the only thing I can think of—I press my lips to her hair, gentle, hesitant. My fingers slide through the strands, and I let out a shaky breath. It’s a small gesture, but it feels like a plea. 

Please forgive me. Please don’t let this break us.

Her body softens just a little in my arms, but she’s still holding something back. I can feel it. I kiss the top of her head again, then her temple, slowly, carefully, as if I might shatter her if I push too hard. 

“I’m so sorry, Ruby,” I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath. I don’t know if she can hear the desperation in it, the fear that’s still lodged in my chest. “I should’ve told you. I saw no other way. But I know that it wasn‘t fair..”

I kiss her temple again, and then, without really thinking, my lips brush her cheek, slow and soft, lingering. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t move closer either, and I can feel the hesitation in her, the walls she’s built to protect herself from the hurt I caused. 

But she doesn’t stop me.

I kiss her again, this time at the corner of her mouth, waiting, giving her the space to pull away if she needs to. But she stays. Her breath catches, and I hear it, the quiet hitch in her throat. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

I press my lips to hers, barely a whisper of a kiss, soft and tentative, as if I’m asking for permission to love her again. Her lips are warm but unmoving at first, and I can feel the weight of everything still between us. But then, slowly, she leans into me, just the slightest movement, and I feel her kissing me back, gently, cautiously. 

My hand slides up to cup her face, fingers brushing her jaw, and I kiss her again, deeper this time, but still slow, still careful. I’m trying to tell her, with every movement, how much I regret it all, how much I love her, how sorry I am. My thumb strokes her cheek, and I can feel her tremble slightly beneath my touch.

She pulls back for a moment, just a breath between us, and I rest my forehead against hers, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t want to push her too far, but I don’t want to lose this either. The way she’s still holding onto me gives me hope—hope that maybe we can learn to heal from this, together.

Her hands, which had been resting against my chest, slowly slide up to my shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as if she’s trying to hold on, to ground herself. I tilt my head and kiss her again, soft and slow, my lips moving carefully against hers, like I’m still afraid of breaking her.

“I love you,” I murmur against her lips, my voice rough, full of everything I can’t express in words. “I’m so sorry, Ruby. You can talk to me. I’m here.”

She lets out a soft, shaky breath, her hands gripping my shirt a little tighter, and I can feel her walls starting to lower, just a little. I move my hand from her face to her back, pulling her closer, but still gentle, still giving her the space to stop if she needs to.

Her lips part slightly, and I deepen the kiss, but it’s still slow, still tender. There’s no urgency, no rush. It’s about rebuilding, about showing her that I’ll never take her for granted again, that I’ll be careful with her, with us, from now on.

Her fingers relax their grip on my shirt and slide up to the back of my neck, and I can feel her body soften even more against mine. It’s like the tension is melting away, little by little, as we move together, as we kiss, as we breathe in sync. 

I kiss her again, my hands moving gently over her back, her shoulders, her sides. I’m careful, deliberate, showing her with every touch that I’ll never hurt her like that again. That I’ll always be here, always protect her, even from my own worst instincts. 

Her breath hitches as my hands slide under her shirt, fingers brushing the warm skin of her waist, but she doesn’t stop me. Instead, she pulls me closer, her body pressing against mine, and I can feel the shift between us, the way the distance is closing.

It’s slow, hesitant, but it’s happening. And for the first time in days, I feel like we might actually be okay.

“I love you,” I whisper again, because I need her to hear it, to believe it. I press my lips to her collarbone, soft and reverent, my hands still moving slowly, cautiously, over her skin. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but she’s giving it to me, piece by piece, with every kiss, with every touch.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life earning it.

I can feel her breathing against me, her heart racing under my hand, and I know she’s trusting me right now in a way that scares me. She’s giving me the pieces of her that I broke, handing them back to me with a quiet plea that I don’t let them shatter again. And I’m not sure I deserve it. But I know I have to try. I have to make this right.

I kiss her again, slower this time, softer, letting her set the pace. My hand moves gently up her back, under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm. I pause, giving her a moment to pull back, to decide if this is what she wants. But she doesn’t stop me. She stays, her breath shallow but steady, her hands still holding onto me like I’m her lifeline.

I don’t rush. I can’t. Everything about this feels fragile, like one wrong move could break the fragile peace we’ve just started to rebuild. I kiss her again, tasting the salt of her tears on my lips, and it breaks something in me. 

I hate that I’ve caused this. I hate that I’ve made her cry, that I’ve hurt her so deeply. But she’s still here, still trusting me, and I feel the weight of that trust settle over me like a burden I don’t think I’ll ever fully live up to.

“Ruby…” I whisper her name against her lips, my voice thick with emotion, my hands trembling slightly as they slide over her body. “Are you sure?”

She nods, her forehead pressing against mine, her breath shaky but determined. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that breaks me, but there’s also something else—something like strength. A quiet, steady resolve.

“I need you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but it’s enough to make my heart clench. “I need you to help me through this.”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of what she’s asking. She’s giving me her pain, her trust, her heart—and I’m terrified I won’t be enough. That I’ll somehow fail her again. But I can’t say no. I won’t say no.

My hands move more purposefully now, though still slow, still careful. I slide her shirt up, and she lifts her arms to help me pull it over her head, her skin flushed in the dim light of the room. I kiss her collarbone, my lips barely brushing her skin, and I can feel her shiver beneath me, her breath catching in her throat.

We’ve done this before—countless times—but this feels different. It’s not just about the physical. It’s about healing, about trust, about finding our way back to each other after everything that’s happened. And I know I need to be careful with her, with us, because this isn’t just about desire. It’s about love. About making sure she knows I’ll never hurt her like that again.

I guide her back onto the bed, my body moving over hers, and I kiss her slowly, deeply, my hands exploring every inch of her skin with a kind of reverence I can’t quite put into words. It’s like I’m trying to memorize her, to remind myself of what I almost lost. Her hands slide up my back, her fingers tracing the marks and bruises left behind from that night, and I can feel the way her touch trembles, like she’s still holding onto the fear, the anger, the hurt.

But she doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, my voice hoarse, as my lips brush the curve of her neck, her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t answer, but the way she pulls me closer, the way her body presses against mine, tells me enough. She’s here. She’s giving me this. And I’m going to give her everything in return.

It’s slow, so slow, as we come together. There’s no urgency, no rush. Just a quiet, steady rhythm as we move in sync, our bodies speaking the words we’re both too scared to say. I can feel her breath on my skin, her heartbeat against mine, and it’s like we’re piecing ourselves back together, one careful touch at a time.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the tears brimming there, unshed but so close. I brush my thumb across her cheek, kissing her softly, and she lets out a quiet sob, her body trembling beneath mine. 

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I kiss the tears from her cheeks, my hands cradling her face. “I’ve got you, Ruby.”

She cries then, quiet and soft, but it’s like the dam finally breaks, and all the fear, all the hurt, all the love pours out of her in waves. I hold her through it, kissing her, touching her, letting her know with every movement that I’m here. That I’ll always be here.

“Do you want me to stop?”, I ask here, uncertain of how to approach this.

“No”, she whispers, “please, don’t stop.”

Her fingers curl into my hair, and I feel the way her body shakes beneath mine, the way her breath comes in ragged gasps. But she doesn’t stop me. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded, like I’m the only one who can help her through this. And maybe I am.

We move together, slow and gentle, every touch deliberate, every kiss soft and tender. It’s not about passion or desire—it’s about healing. It’s about finding our way back to each other after everything we’ve been through. And as I hold her, as I kiss her, I realize just how much I need her too. How much I’ve always needed her.

When we finally still together, breathless, she’s still crying, but there’s something different in her tears now. They’re not just from pain—they’re from release, from letting go of everything she’s been holding inside. I pull her into my arms, holding her close, my lips pressing to her hair as I whisper her name over and over again, like a prayer.

She sobs quietly against my chest, her body shaking, and I just hold her, letting her cry, letting her feel everything she needs to feel. Because I know this isn’t just about what I did—it’s about everything. Everything we’ve been through. Everything we’re still trying to heal from.

And as I hold her, as I kiss her, I know that this is it. This is love. It’s messy, it’s painful, but it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to her that I’m worthy of it.

——

Lying beside Ruby in her bed, the familiar warmth of her body against mine should bring me peace, but tonight feels different. There's still a heaviness in the air, one that neither of us can ignore. After the conversation earlier, after dinner and laughing with her family, after trying to lose ourselves in homework, it’s like we’ve only scratched the surface of everything we need to unpack. The silence between us now is no longer comforting, and I can feel her turning something over in her mind.

Then she speaks, her voice soft, barely a whisper in the darkness. “Do you know what the last thing you said to me was that Friday at school?”

I know. The memory is sharp, etched into my mind like a scar. I swallow hard, my heart already sinking, because I know exactly where this is going.

“I said, ‘I love you. You know that, right?’”

She nods, and I can feel her gaze on me even though I’m staring up at the ceiling. “How did that feel?” she asks. “To know that could’ve been the last time you said it. That maybe I wouldn’t even know what was coming. That you’d just... disappear.”

Her words hit me like a punch, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I knew this was coming, I knew we’d have to talk about it eventually, but hearing it from her—hearing the pain and confusion she’s been holding onto—makes it all so much more real.

“I... I knew,” I say quietly, my voice thick with regret. “I knew it might be the last time. And I hated it. I hated letting you walk away from me, knowing that I hadn’t told you everything. But I didn’t see another way.”

She shifts beside me, her hand resting on my chest, but I can feel the tension in her touch. “And I didn’t know,” she says, her voice catching. “I didn’t know that could’ve been the last thing you ever said to me. You left me with that, without even explaining anything. It could’ve been the last thing I heard from you—without any chance for more.”

I close my eyes, the weight of her words crushing me. She’s right. I’d been so focused on what I thought I needed to do, on what I believed was the only way, that I didn’t think long enough about what I was leaving behind for her. The thought of her never knowing, of her being left with only those words and no explanation, makes my chest ache in a way that’s almost unbearable. And that letter..how could that ever have been enough?

“There’s something else,” I say, my throat tightening. I know I have to tell her. If I don’t, it’ll haunt me forever. “I left a letter with Alistair. In case... in case something happened.”

She doesn’t say anything right away, and the silence stretches between us. I can feel her heartbeat against my side, quick and uneven, and I can almost hear the thoughts racing through her mind.

“I can get it for you,” I offer, my voice breaking. “If you want to read it. If you need to see what I wrote.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, and I don’t dare move, waiting for her response. I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to read it. Part of me almost hopes she does. Maybe then she’ll understand everything I couldn’t say in those last moments. But when she finally speaks, her voice is soft, fragile.

“No,” she says. “I don’t want to read it.”

Relief washes over me, but it’s mixed with a deep sense of gratitude—gratitude that she’s giving me this, that she’s choosing to let it go. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she asked for it, if she read those words from a moment when I thought I might never return.

“Thank you,” I whisper, reaching for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “Thank you for not making me live with that lie too.”

She exhales, and I feel her body relax just a little, though the weight of everything we’ve just shared still hangs between us. 

“I’m glad you told me,” she says, her voice still shaking but stronger now. “I’m glad you trusted me with that. Even though it... even though it hurts to know there was a letter at all.”

I pull her closer, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. The thought of her ever reading those words, of her living in a world where that letter would’ve been the last thing she had from me, twists something deep inside of me. I never want her to feel that kind of pain, and yet, I was the one who almost caused it.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, my voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Ruby. For everything.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her arms tighten around me, and that’s enough. We lie there, holding onto each other in the dark, and I feel like we’re starting to find our way back.

As we lie there in the quiet, the weight of everything hanging over us, I can’t stop thinking about the pain I’ve caused her. It’s a deep, gnawing ache in my chest that won’t go away, knowing how much I’ve hurt the one person I love more than anything in this world. And now that it’s all out in the open, now that she knows about the letter, about the risk I took without her knowing, I feel even more desperate to fix it, to make it better for her somehow.

I shift slightly, turning so I can look at her, my fingers still tangled with hers. “Is there anything I can do?” I ask, my voice quiet but urgent. “Anything at all. To make this easier for you. I’ll do anything, Ruby. Just tell me.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes are soft but full of thought, like she’s trying to figure out the right words. I can feel her heartbeat through our connected hands, steady but still carrying a weight of its own. I want to reach inside her mind and pull the pain out, take it all away, but I know it’s not that simple.

Finally, she looks at me, her gaze steady and so full of everything we’ve been through together. “Just love me through it,” she says softly. “That’s all I need from you. Give me time and love me through this, through the hurt, the fear... all of it.”

Her words hit me like a wave, washing over me with a mixture of relief and resolve. She’s asking me to do the one thing I know I can do—the one thing I’ve never doubted. Loving her has always been the easiest, most natural thing in my life, even when everything else falls apart. And if that’s what she needs from me, if that’s the way I can help her through this, then I’ll give her every part of myself without hesitation.

I nod, swallowing the tightness in my throat. “I can do that,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion. “I promise you, Ruby. I’ll love you through all of it. As long as you need me.”

Her lips tremble slightly, and I see the tears welling up in her eyes, but she smiles—just a little. It’s a fragile smile, but it’s real, and it feels like the first crack of light breaking through the darkness. I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers, and I can feel her breath against my skin, warm and steady.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice so quiet I almost miss it. “Thank you for staying with me. For telling me the truth.”

“I’ll always stay,” I tell her, my voice steady even though I feel everything inside me unraveling with the weight of that promise. “I’m never going anywhere.”

We hold each other like that, wrapped in the softness of the night, and as I pull her even closer, I know that we made a start. Not more. I know we’ll have to revisit that topic probably more than once. But also not less.

Chapter Text

I sit in the quiet of the Bell‘s house, staring at the tea I haven’t touched. My hands are trembling again, and I can’t pinpoint when it started. Ophelia’s call plays on a loop in my head, her voice calm but with that edge to it—lawyers, meetings, my father, Lydia. 

I feel it hit me like a punch to the chest.

Exhale slowly. One, two, three, four, five. Inhale the same way. I can’t let this spiral out of control. Not now. The urge to let the panic consume me is strong, that old familiarity of surrendering to it, but I fight against it. I have to. I have no choice.

Not anymore. Not with Ruby.

I shut my eyes and focus on the smallest things—the hum of the fridge, the faint sounds of the street outside, the way my pulse hammers in my ears. At least I’m still breathing. 

I break it down in my head: what Ophelia said, the meetings, the suffocating presence of my father, the weight of everything crashing down. The panic doesn’t come from nowhere—I know why it’s here, I know exactly what’s causing it. It’s the fear. The fear that I’ll fail, that somehow, this will all slip out of my control and I’ll hurt the people I love because of who I am. Because of who he is.

But this time… this time, something is different.

Ruby.

She’s the tether, the one thing keeping me grounded. And suddenly, I know I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to. I’ve done that before—pushed it all down, tried to carry everything myself, convinced I had to. I nearly destroyed myself. I nearly destroyed us. .

I can’t make that mistake again.

I stare at my phone on the table. My hands are still shaking, but I know what I need to do. I have to tell her. I can’t keep this to myself, can’t hide it like I used to. She deserves better than that. We deserve better.

Ember

When I walk in, I know something’s off the second I see him. James is sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the cup in front of him like it’s going to tell him the meaning of life if he stares long enough. His hands are gripping the mug a little too tight, leg bouncing under the table, and that distant look in his eyes? Yeah, something’s definitely up.

Normally, I’d crack a joke, maybe toss out something snarky to break the tension, but I don’t. Not today. James isn’t in a place for my usual banter. I can feel it. He doesn’t need words right now. He needs… something quieter.

I drop my bag by the door and head to the kitchen. It’s almost instinct to grab the cocoa tin and mugs. I don’t say anything yet, just get the milk on the stove and pull out the marshmallows. He’s watching me, I can tell, but he’s not saying a word. Fine by me.

"You want marshmallows or no?" I ask, keeping my voice casual. I’m not pushing him for anything, just giving him something simple to focus on.

He shrugs, and I let it slide. I’ve known James long enough to understand he’s not always going to tell me what’s eating at him, and that’s okay. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Or not. Either way, I’m here.

I finish up the drinks and place his mug in front of him, the one with the chipped handle that Ruby keeps threatening to throw out. It’s his favorite, and I think he holds onto it like it’s some kind of talisman. 

"Don’t worry about the washing machine today," I say, keeping my tone light, almost teasing but not quite. "I got this."

He looks up at me, blinking like he didn’t expect that. I can tell he’s about to protest, muttering something about doing it later. Typical James. Always thinking he needs to carry everything by himself.

"It’s nothing," he mumbles. "I’ll get to it."

I raise an eyebrow. Not buying it for a second. But I’m not here to push him into some emotional breakthrough. I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t drown in whatever storm is brewing inside him. 

"Yeah, well, you’ve earned a break," I say, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. "Least I can do after all the hours you spent saving me from chem disaster. Hot chocolate’s part of the deal."

He almost smiles, and I take that as a win. It’s not much, but it’s something. The room feels a little lighter, the silence between us not so heavy. We sit like that, sipping in quiet, no pressure, no expectations.

He doesn’t need to tell me what’s wrong. I don’t need to know. He just needs to know I’ve got his back.

Ruby

When I walk through the door, the house is unusually quiet. I expect to hear Ember talking about her day, or maybe James teasing her about something or asking how school went. Instead, the kitchen is almost still, the soft clink of mugs the only sound.

I stop just inside the doorway, taking in the scene. James is sitting at the table, his hands wrapped around his mug like he’s trying to draw some kind of strength from it. Ember leans against the counter, her own drink in hand, but something about her posture is off. She’s quieter than usual, her usual sharpness replaced with a kind of calm I’m not used to seeing in her.

I feel a pinch in my chest. Something’s wrong.

James hasn’t noticed me yet, his head bowed like the weight of everything is too much to lift. Whatever’s going on, it’s not good. I can feel it in the air.

Ember looks up and meets my eyes, and for a second, we just stare at each other. Normally, she'd crack a joke, call me something ridiculous like “the lady of the house,” or insist I sit down so we can all catch up. But today? She just slides away from the counter, giving me a small nod before she quietly slips out of the room. I watch her go, a little surprised. She usually stays, pulls out her books, keeps things light, but not this time.

My heart sinks. That’s how I know it's serious. Ember doesn’t back off unless she knows something’s weighing heavy.

I step forward and settle into the chair beside James, laying a hand on his arm. His body tenses for just a moment before he leans into my touch, his shoulders slumping like the fight has drained out of him. He still hasn’t said a word, and my stomach twists with worry. 

“Hey,” I whisper, keeping my voice soft, careful. I don't want to push, but I need him to know I’m here. "Rough day?"

He nods, not looking up from the mug, his fingers flexing around the handle like he’s trying to steady himself. He’s here, with me, but his mind is somewhere else, lost in whatever storm he’s been fighting alone.

I squeeze his arm gently, waiting. I know he’ll talk when he’s ready. He always does. And I’ll be here when he does.

But God, I hate seeing him like this—so closed off, so heavy with whatever’s going on inside. Whatever it is, I need him to know he’s not carrying it alone. Not anymore.

"I’m here," I say softly, leaning a little closer. "You don’t have to do this by yourself." 

Finally, he turns his head just a little, enough to meet my eyes, and I can see the weariness there, the struggle. Whatever happened, it’s big. And I’m ready to hear it whenever he’s ready to say it.

But for now, I stay close, giving him all the time he needs.

James

I take a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts before I speak. Ruby’s hand rests on my arm, grounding me, and I focus on the warmth of her touch. It’s enough to steady me for a moment, just enough to get the words out.

“They’ve reached a point in the negotiations where Ophelia can’t handle it all alone anymore,” I say, my voice low, steady. I’m trying to keep it matter-of-fact, but there’s this weight pressing down on me. “There’s... stuff to be dealt with. Things that need to be discussed, and I have to be present. Lydia too.”

Ruby stays quiet, her fingers gently pressing into my arm, giving me the space to continue. She’s good at that—knowing when to let me speak without pushing too hard.

“I knew this would happen eventually,” I go on, forcing myself to keep talking. “If I want the foundation to become what it’s supposed to be, if I want to make a real difference, I have to be there. I can’t avoid it.”

I hear myself talking like I’m trying to convince her. Or maybe convince myself.

“But I’m not ready to see him. Not my father.” I pause, feeling my stomach twist just saying the words. “I know it’ll be in a room full of people—Ophelia, Lydia, lawyers. I could even bring you or Alistair for support if I needed to. I wouldn’t be alone.”

I glance at her, half-expecting her to tell me I’m overthinking it, that I’ll be fine. But she doesn’t. She just watches me, her hand steady on my shoulder now, waiting for me to keep going.

“But still,” I continue, my voice dropping, “the thought of being in the same room with him… with him looking at me, talking to me, breathing the same air…” I trail off, struggling to find the right words. “It gets to me in a way I can’t even describe.”

She’s quiet, nodding slowly. I feel the tension in my chest start to ease, just a little. She isn’t rushing me, isn’t trying to fix it, just giving me space to lay it out piece by piece.

“And I know it sounds stupid,” I add, rubbing a hand over my face. “I’ve thought about this a hundred times, knew it was coming. But now that it’s real, now that I actually have to face him…” My throat tightens, but I push through. “It’s like everything inside me freezes up.”

I stop talking, staring down at the table, waiting for her to say something. For her to tell me it’ll be okay, that I can do this.

Instead, she asks, “What would help you feel ready?”

The question is simple, but it cuts through the noise in my head. It’s not about what I have to do ; it’s about what I need. I let the question sit for a minute, thinking about it. What would help me feel ready?

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe having you there… or Alistair. But even then…” I shake my head, frustrated. “I don’t know if that would be enough.”

Her hand tightens slightly on my shoulder, grounding me again. “It doesn’t have to be enough all at once,” she says softly. “We can figure it out step by step.”

I take another breath, feeling some of the pressure lift. She’s right. I don’t have to have all the answers right now. I just need to get through the next step. 

Ruby’s hand squeezes my shoulder again, and I can see she’s thinking. That look she gets when her brain is putting pieces together, quietly trying to figure out how to help. I expect her to say something simple, like she’ll be there with me, or that we’ll take it one step at a time. But instead, she surprises me.

“What if we treat this like… an exam?” she says gently. I raise an eyebrow, not quite sure where she’s going with this. “I mean, think about it. You wouldn’t walk into a final without preparing, right?”

I let out a small laugh despite myself. “I’m not sure a meeting with my father is the same as an exam, Ruby.”

“It kind of is, though.” She leans forward, her expression serious now. “You know how you’re going to feel in that room—the panic, the anxiety, the weight of it. What if we rehearse? Go through all the scenarios beforehand, feel the feelings now so you know what to expect when it actually happens.”

I stare at her for a second, trying to wrap my mind around what she’s saying. Rehearse seeing my father? Rehearse the flood of emotions that’s bound to hit me? I can feel my skepticism rising, but there’s something in the way she says it, so certain, that makes me pause.

“Think of it like an exam,” she continues, her voice steady and calm. “If you prepare, if you practice dealing with those emotions now, you’ll know what to do when you’re actually there. It won’t be easy, but it won’t blindside you, either.”

I sit back, considering her words. There’s a strange logic to it, something that makes sense in a way I hadn’t expected. Rehearse. Feel it now, so it doesn’t destroy me later.

I nod slowly. “Okay, but how do we even start? It’s not like I can just summon him out of thin air.”

Ruby smiles, a soft, understanding look in her eyes. “I know it’s not that simple. But… what if you spent a weekend with Lydia? In person, not just FaceTime. You two are going through this together. She knows him just as well as you. Maybe being with her will help—let you process some of this before you have to face him.”

I blink, a little thrown. “A weekend with Lydia?”

“Yeah,” Ruby says, her hand still warm on my shoulder. “Go and be with her. Talk to her about all this. Feel it out. If anyone understands what you’re going through, it’s her. You both need to be in this together, not just texting and checking in. I think it could help.”

I don’t respond right away, the idea swirling around in my head. Spending time with Lydia, really being with her, sounds… right. Like maybe she’s the only person who can truly understand what it’s going to be like. Maybe if I go to her, face the reality of all this with her, I won’t feel so… unprepared.

“Okay,” I finally say, nodding. “I’ll go.”

Ruby smiles, relief and something like pride in her eyes. She believed in the plan, and now I’m starting to believe in it too.

Ruby’s plan makes sense, but there’s still a knot in my chest. It’s not the idea itself—it’s that I have to go through this without her. I lean back in my chair, my jaw tightening as I think about it.

“I’ll go on Friday,” I say, half to myself, but Ruby catches it. “But you should come with me.”

She doesn’t answer right away, just watches me with that careful look, and I can already tell what she’s going to say before she says it.

“No,” she says softly.

A spark of irritation flares up in me. It’s not what I want to hear. “Why not? You said you’d support me, right? I’d feel better if you were there.”

“I know you would,” she replies, keeping her voice calm. “But this isn’t about me being there for every moment, James. You need to do this with Lydia.”

I sit up, the tension rising. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t you come?”

Ruby stays steady, her hand slipping off my shoulder as she pulls back a little. “Because this is about you and Lydia. You two need space—time to process without me there. I don’t want to crowd that.”

I’m about to push back, the frustration bubbling in my chest, but I stop myself. She’s not wrong. She’s always been good at seeing what I need before I do, but that doesn’t make it easier to accept. I don’t like the idea of facing it without her. But I can’t make her come, and I don’t want to.

“You’re sure?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

She nods, her expression softening. “This has nothing to do with what happened between us, I promise. I’m not pulling away or keeping distance. I just think this time is for you and Lydia. You both need it.”

I look away, rubbing the back of my neck. I know she’s right, but the thought of going through all of this without her there makes me feel... unsettled. Still, I trust her judgment more than I trust my own right now.

“And when you come back,” she adds, “I’ll be here. Waiting for you. We’ll deal with everything else then. Together.”

The finality of her words starts to ease the irritation. She’s not abandoning me. She’s giving me the space to handle this in a way that might actually help. I breathe out, the tension slipping away little by little.

“Okay,” I finally say, my voice quieter now. “Friday, then.”

She smiles, that same reassuring warmth in her eyes. “Friday.”

I let out a breath, feeling the weight of the conversation settle. It’s not ideal, but maybe it’s what I need.

*****

Alistair’s home gym is familiar—too familiar, considering how much I’ve been slacking off. The clank of weights, the faint hum of music in the background. Alistair’s already mid-set, looking like he hasn’t missed a day in months, while I struggle to keep up.

“Come on, Beaufort,” he says, tossing me a water bottle as I drop the barbell back onto the rack. “You’re still far behind where you should be. And you’re not paying attention.”

I roll my eyes, wiping sweat off my forehead. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

He grins, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Hey, I’m just saying. You’re distracted. What’s up?”

I hesitate, not sure how to even start. Then I realize I don’t have to dance around it with him. I exhale and look up at the ceiling for a second before letting it out.

“Ruby’s not coming with me to see Lydia.”

Alistair quirks an eyebrow. “Okay. And that’s got you all twisted up because…?”

“Because I wanted her there,” I mutter, leaning back against the bench. “I need her there. But she said no. She thinks this is something I need to do with Lydia. That we need space.”

Alistair watches me for a moment, taking in what I’m saying. Then he sets down his weights and gives me that look—the one that says he’s about to tear apart my logic, no matter how justified I think I am.

“You know,” he starts, in a way that makes me brace myself, “just because Ruby’s incredible doesn’t mean she’s your personal assistant, life coach, or emotional crutch. She’s allowed some space, James. Deserves it, too.”

I frown, the irritation creeping back in. “That’s not what I meant. I just—”

“I know what you meant,” he interrupts, “but you’ve got to see it from her side. She’s been there through all of this, helping you keep it together. She’s solid. But she’s also got her own stuff, and she trusts you enough to handle this without her.”

I rub the back of my neck, trying to absorb what he’s saying. Alistair is right, but it’s hard to shake the instinct that having Ruby there would make everything easier. And then he shifts gears.

“Look, mate,” he says, more seriously now, “Lydia needs you, too. Maybe more than you realize. Last time I checked, she was eighteen, pregnant with twins, and got abandoned by her family. Sound familiar? This isn’t just your mess to clean up. She’s still in it, same as you.”

The reminder hits me harder than I expected. Lydia’s been through all of this, right alongside me, but it’s so easy to forget. We don’t talk about it. I don’t ask how she’s doing beyond the surface, but I should. I should’ve done more.

Alistair doesn’t let up. “She might be fine now, but that doesn’t mean she’s not carrying it with her. You and Ruby don’t have to be tied together every second. Lydia might need her brother right now—without Ruby there to buffer everything.”

I nod slowly, trying to let his words sink in. The idea of being there for Lydia, fully there, without Ruby stepping in… It feels necessary, even if I didn’t see it before.

“So, what?” I ask, voice low. “Just… focus on her?”

“Yeah,” Alistair says, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Just focus on your sister. Ruby will be here when you’re done, and maybe when you come back, you’ll have sorted out more than just the family drama.”

I sigh, feeling the weight of everything, but lighter somehow, too. Alistair slaps me on the back, a silent show of support before picking up his weights again. It’s not perfect. It’s not easy. But maybe it’s what I need to do.

*****

Saying goodbye to Ruby after school on Friday hits harder than I anticipated. As the final bell rings and students shuffle past us, laughter and chatter filling the air, I can’t shake the weight in my chest. Ruby’s not herself today; I can see it in the way she forces a smile and avoids meeting my eyes for too long. It’s a stark contrast to her usual vibrancy.

And then it clicks. We’ve been here before. I’m leaving on a Friday, right after school, and she’s stuck standing there, trying to hold it together. That day. The memory stabs at me, uninvited. It’s probably why she’s struggling too—why she’s not looking good today. 

I glance at the clock, but this time, instead of urgency, I feel a calm determination wash over me. I have all the time in the world—Lydia won’t mind if I’m a little late. I can’t let this moment echo the past. I can’t let it end on a note of sadness.

“Hey,” I say, pulling her a little closer as the crowd starts to thin out. “Let’s get you home.”

She looks surprised, her brow furrowing slightly. “But you have to go, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m not in a rush,” I say, my voice steady. “I can drive you home. It’ll be a quick detour.”

“James—” she starts to protest, but I shake my head, cutting her off gently.

“No arguments. Just let me do this.” 

I take her hand and lead her toward the parking lot. The air is warmer than it has been, a hint of spring creeping in, and I feel a flicker of warmth at having her close. 

Once we reach my car, I open the door for her, and she slips inside, glancing up at me with a mix of uncertainty and gratitude. I slide into the driver’s seat, and as I turn the engine over, I glance at her again. She’s looking out the window, and I can tell she’s lost in thought. 

“Ruby?” I say softly, and she turns her head, those eyes of hers searching mine.

“I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave me behind,” she admits, her voice quiet. 

I reach over, placing my hand on hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. “I’m not leaving you behind. I’ll always be here. Just for a little while, I will focus on Lydia.”

Her gaze drops to our hands, and I can feel the tension between us. “I know. It’s just harder than I thought.”

“I get it,” I reply, squeezing her hand gently. “But I promise when I get back, we’ll have all the time we need to catch up. I’m giving you a promise for more, okay?”

She looks up at me, a flicker of hope crossing her features. “Okay.”

We drive in a comfortable silence, the tension gradually melting away. The streets are familiar, but my mind races with possibilities, thinking of how I can make this goodbye different. When we finally pull up to her house, I take a deep breath, reminding myself of what’s at stake here.

The familiar brick façade looms ahead, but all I can focus on is Ruby, sitting next to me, her eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions. 

I get out of the car, making my way around to her side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. As I open the door, I extend my hand to help her out. “After you, my lady,” I say with a teasing bow. 

She steps out, and I take a moment to admire her. The way the afternoon light catches her hair, the way she looks at me with a mixture of affection and uncertainty—it’s all too beautiful. I lean in, capturing her face in my hands, and I kiss her right there, outside in the open air. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, but then it deepens, our connection intensifying as I pull her closer.

Time slips away, and I’m lost in the warmth of her, feeling the world around us fade. I’m in no rush at all; I know Lydia won’t mind if I’m there a little earlier or later. I finally pull back, breathless, and I catch the glow of satisfaction on Ruby’s face, a smile creeping across her lips.

Just then, the front door swings open, and Ember steps out, her eyes widening at the sight of us. She pauses, taking in the moment with an exaggerated expression. “Wow, what is this? Spider-Man   meets Pride and Prejudice?“

Ruby and I break apart, both of us blushing, and I shoot Ember a playful glare. 

Ember grins, her hands on her hips. “Seriously, you two look like you’re about to start reenacting some epic battle for the fate of Middle-earth or something.”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. “Thanks for the interruption, Ember. Just what I needed.”

“Anytime,” she says, winking as she steps back toward the door. “Just don’t keep it PG out here. We’re all adults now.”

Ruby giggles, her cheeks still flushed, and I can’t help but feel lighter. The moment has shifted, but it’s still special. 

I turn back to Ruby, taking her hands in mine. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

She nods, the sparkle in her eyes returning. “I’ll be waiting.”

With one last quick kiss, I reluctantly let go and step back, watching as she heads inside, Ember playfully teasing her about the kiss as they disappear from view. As I make my way back to the car, I feel a surge of optimism. 

The drive is a different experience from usual. I take my time, letting the moments linger. The sun is starting to dip lower in the sky, painting everything in warm hues. I don’t have to rush; the roads are familiar, and I find myself savoring the scenery—the trees lining the road, the way the light catches the edges of the leaves, then the open landscape of the countryside.

As I drive down the long, winding driveway of Aunt Ophelia’s home, a familiar sense of nostalgia washes over me. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the manicured gardens that seem to stretch endlessly. This place has always felt like a sanctuary, but today, it’s filled with a different energy.

When I finally park the car and step out, I catch sight of Lydia standing on the porch, and I stop in my tracks. I’ve seen her pregnant, of course, but this time, her belly is enormous—bigger than I ever thought possible. The reality of her carrying twins hits me hard, and for a moment, I’m at a loss for how to approach her.

“James!” she calls out, her voice brightening the space between us. She starts to waddle toward me, her steps slow but determined. 

“Hey,” I say, a smile spreading across my face despite the unease swirling in my chest. 

As she reaches me, I freeze for a second, unsure of how to hug her without bumping into her belly. But then, instinct takes over. I gently wrap my arms around her, careful not to squeeze too tightly. “Wow, you look… amazing,” I say, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s a lot, isn’t it? I feel like I’m carrying around a beach ball,” she replies, laughter dancing in her tone.

“I can’t believe how big you are,” I say, stepping back to get a better look at her. “Are you sure there aren’t three in there?”

“Oh, trust me, it feels like it,” she teases, rolling her eyes playfully. “But it’s definitely just the twins. They’re taking their sweet time, but I’m ready for them to arrive.”

As we head into the house, I can’t shake the feeling of amazement. My sister, who was once just a carefree teenager, is now about to become a mother of twins. The reality of it all sinks in, and I can’t help but wonder how much our lives have changed—and how much they’ll continue to shift in the coming days.

Once we’re inside, the warmth of Aunt Ophelia’s home wraps around me like a familiar blanket. Lydia leads me up the staircase, her hand resting lightly on the banister as she navigates the stairs. I can’t help but admire her determination, even with the added weight of the twins.

“Come on, I made tea and cake in my room,” she says, her voice brightening. “It’s a little cozy in there, but I figured we could have a proper catch-up.”

“Sounds perfect,” I reply, following her down the hallway. 

As we enter her room, I’m struck by how much she’s made it her own, despite the circumstances. There are soft blankets draped over her bed, and the scent of fresh baked cake fills the air. She has a kettle steaming on her desk, and a mismatched assortment of mugs is ready for us.

“Is Aunt Ophelia around?” I ask, glancing around. “I thought she’d be here.”

“She and Percy are away for the weekend,” Lydia says, pouring the steaming tea into the mugs. 

“Wait, what? Ophelia and Percy? Not just Percy driving Ophelia somewhere?” I ask, a hint of disbelief in my tone.

Lydia laughs, shaking her head. “Yes, really. It’s a thing now, James. Just because you’re not around doesn’t mean you can act like a snob about it. Percy’s more than just a chauffeur, you know.”

I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not being a snob! I just didn’t know it was serious. It’s a little strange to think of them like that.”

“Why? Just because he used to drive us around? He’s still a person, you know.” She rolls her eyes, but her smile is infectious. “Plus, they seem happy together.”

“Good for them, I guess,” I say, trying to suppress my surprise. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“Right, because you’re so good at knowing things. You’ve been stuck in your own world for ages,” she teases, handing me a mug. “Now, stop being a snob and enjoy your cake.”

I take a sip of the tea and bite into the cake, letting the flavors wash over me. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to be less of a snob. But I still can’t believe it,” I say, laughing.

Lydia leans back against her desk, her expression softening. “It’s nice to have a little chaos, don’t you think? Especially with everything else going on.” 

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I reply, feeling the weight of our lives settle in again, but for now, I’m grateful for this moment—just me and Lydia, sharing tea and cake, without a care in the world.

Lydia

I settle onto the edge of my bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but the ache in my back is becoming more insistent. I let out a small sigh, and James glances over at me, concern etched across his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, setting down his tea and shifting closer.

“It’s just my back,” I reply, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ve been sitting too long. I need to stretch out.” 

I lean back and put my feet up on the bed, grimacing a bit as I slide my shoes off. When I look down, I see my swollen feet, and I can’t help but chuckle a little. “Welcome to pregnancy, right?” I say, wiggling my toes for effect. 

James’s eyes widen, and I can tell he’s processing what he’s seeing. “That doesn’t look comfortable at all. Are you okay?”

“It’s normal,” I assure him, but the truth is, it’s hard to get used to the changes my body is going through. “Just part of the deal, I guess.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks, the sincerity in his voice making me feel a little guilty for worrying him.

“Well, actually…” I pause for a moment, gauging his reaction. “If you’re offering, a foot massage would be amazing.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but then he nods with determination. “Sure, I can do that. Just let me know if it’s too much.”

I settle back into the bed, grateful for the kindness he’s showing me. As he takes my foot into his hands, I can’t help but smile. “You really don’t have to, you know.”

“I want to,” he replies, his fingers working gently over my arch. “Besides, this will help take my mind off… everything else.”

“Good point,” I say, biting my lip to suppress a giggle at how serious he sounds. “But I’m going to make sure you talk about it while you’re at it. You can’t just play the knight in shining armor without telling me how you’re really doing.”

He huffs a soft laugh but keeps his focus on my feet, rubbing away the tension. “Well, I’ve been managing, I guess. Just a lot on my plate right now with school and the foundation and everything.”

“That’s vague,” I tease, watching his expression closely. “Are you feeling overwhelmed?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits, his voice quiet. “It’s just... seeing Mortimer again, it’s going to be harder than I thought. And I know I’ll have to deal with it, with you—”

“Exactly,” I interrupt gently, “you’re not leaving me out of this. I’m your sister, and we’re in this together. Just like you’re there for me with the babies.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, looking up at me. “It’s just different for me, you know? I hate the thought of all the emotions that are going to come flooding back when I see him.”

I nod, understanding the weight of his worries. “That makes sense. But you won’t face it alone, James. We’ll tackle this as a family.”

He looks back down at my feet, and I can see him steeling himself, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. “Thanks, Lyd. I appreciate that. I really do.”

As he continues massaging my feet, I realize how much I’ve missed this connection with him. It’s a reminder that, no matter what happens, we’ll always have each other’s backs—even when things get tough.

As James continues to work on my feet, I take the opportunity to dig a little deeper. “So, how are you really doing? I mean, I know we FaceTime every day and I get the highlights of your life, but that doesn’t tell me everything.”

He pauses, his fingers stilling for a moment as he considers my question. I can see the wheels turning in his mind, and I brace myself for whatever he’s going to say next.

“It’s… harder than I thought it would be,” he finally admits, his voice low. “I thought moving in with the Bells would be a fresh start, but it’s taken a toll on me. On Ruby, too.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, wanting to draw him out.

“Well, I thought I could just dive into the finals, the foundation and throw myself into something meaningful. But the reality of it is… complicated.” He exhales, his breath heavy with unspoken emotions. “I have to deal with meetings, the lawyers, and trying to keep everything organized while also navigating my feelings about Mortimer. It’s exhausting. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning in it all.”

“James,” I say softly, “you don’t have to shoulder all of that alone. You know that, right?”

He nods but doesn’t meet my gaze. “Yeah, I know. But I also don’t want to burden anyone. Especially not Ruby. She’s been trying to be there for me, and I don’t want to add to her stress.”

“Adding to her stress?” I repeat, a small laugh escaping my lips. “You do realize she’s not just a support system, right? She’s your girlfriend. You’re supposed to share these things with her.”

“I get that,” he replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “But she’s also dealing with her own stuff—school, her family, that night..and I don’t want to be the reason she feels overwhelmed.”

“James, you’re allowed to lean on each other,” I say firmly. “That’s how relationships work. You need to talk about what’s going on with you, not just keep it all bottled up. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

He takes a deep breath, and I can tell he’s contemplating my words. “You’re right, but I just... I feel like I’m constantly trying to keep it together. I don’t want to let anyone down. Not Ruby, not you, not anyone.”

“James, you’re not a failure for needing help. It takes strength to admit when you’re struggling,” I say, pushing a little harder. “You’re human. Just because you’re trying to help me doesn’t mean you have to be superhuman. I mean, we’re all in this together, right?”

He finally looks up at me, those familiar blue eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “You’re right. I guess I’m just still figuring out how to navigate everything.”

“And you’re doing it in the best way you know how,” I say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Just remember to let us in, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

He smiles a bit, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lydia. I needed that reminder.”

“Anytime,” I reply, relieved to see him starting to open up. “And you know what? I’m proud of you. You’ve come so far already. Just look at you—Mr. Pro with the washing machine and all.”

He chuckles, a genuine laugh that brings a warmth to the room. “Yeah, I guess I’ve picked up a few skills along the way. Ember has been relentless with her teasing, though.”

“Good! She’s keeping you on your toes,” I say, grinning. “And it sounds like you’ve got Helen bringing you tea every time we’re talking, too. That’s a win in my book.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” he admits, his expression softening. “And Ruby… she’s been amazing. I love spending time with her, but I still feel like I’m holding back sometimes.”

“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“Because I’m scared,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared that if I let go completely, it will hurt too much. That I’ll feel things I don’t know how to handle. So I keep trying to act like I’m fine, but… I’m not.”

“James, it’s okay to feel scared. It’s okay to not have all the answers,” I say, feeling the weight of his vulnerability. “You’re navigating a lot right now. Just take it one step at a time, and know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”

He nods, a look of determination crossing his face. “Okay. I promise I’ll try to lean on you more. And I’ll definitely let Ruby in. It’s just going to take time.”

“Time is what we have,” I say, „and we’re going to get through this together.”

Ruby

At first, the absence of James is palpable. I find myself wandering through the quiet of the house, lost in the spaces where his presence used to fill the air. The weekend stretches before me like an empty canvas, and I’m unsure how to fill it without him.

But then Ember peaks into my room, her usual enthusiasm infectious. “Guess what?” she chirps, practically bouncing into the room. “I’ve got a couple of new blog articles ready to go, and I need your help with proof-reading!”

I smile, grateful for the distraction. Working alongside Ember, sorting through her ideas and suggestions, helps fill some of the void James left behind. We dive into her articles, the familiar rhythm of brainstorming and laughing making the time fly.

Lydia

As the aroma of herbs and spices fills Ophelia's spacious kitchen, I stir the simmering sauce on the stove while James leans against the counter, watching me with a mix of amusement and curiosity. The clatter of pots and pans creates a comforting backdrop, and I feel a sense of normalcy wash over me, a reprieve from the weight of everything else.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. “Just a few more minutes. How about you set the table?”

“Sure thing,” he replies, straightening up and moving to the dining room. I can hear him clanging dishes and utensils together, and it makes me smile. It’s good to have him here.

As I finish preparing the meal, I feel the urge to share my news. “So, I’ve been thinking about my future,” I say, keeping my tone light, but I can tell James is listening intently. “Graham and I are planning to move to London once the babies are born.”

His brow furrows slightly, and I catch the way his smile falters. “London? Like, permanently?”

I nod, stirring the sauce one last time. “Yeah. Graham is looking for a job there, and it makes sense for us to be closer to his family. Plus, there are more opportunities for us there.”

“I see,” he replies slowly, and I can feel the tension creeping into the air. “That’s… a big change.”

“Right?” I chuckle a little, trying to keep the mood light. “It’s not like I’m not used to change at this point. But it feels right.”

“Okay,” he says, a shadow crossing his face. “But what about Ophelia?”

I pause, feeling a mixture of emotions wash over me. “I know. But it’s time for me to start my own family. I love Ophelia, but I need to build my own life. I want to create a space for the twins, to establish our little family. It’s what Graham and I both want.”

James watches me for a moment, his gaze searching mine. “That makes sense,” he finally says, but I can see he’s still grappling with something.

We finish preparing dinner, and I set the table with care, adding a pitcher of lemonade in place of wine—no alcohol while pregnant. As we sit down together, I can feel the weight of our shared history pressing down on us, and I sense this is a pivotal moment for both of us.

“Hey, James,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Can we take a minute to acknowledge something?”

He looks up from his plate, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“This—us sitting here, sharing dinner like this. It feels different, doesn’t it? It’s like we’re stepping into a new chapter of our lives, and it’s bittersweet.”

He nods slowly, his expression serious. “Yeah, it does feel different. Like we’re leaving something behind.”

I take a sip of my lemonade, contemplating our childhood and the memories we’ve shared under one roof, or rather, the absence of one. “You know, our childhood really ended the day I moved in here. That day—when you went into Mortimer’s study—there wasn’t even a moment to say goodbye. I never thought about it until now.”

James’s eyes widen slightly, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. “You’re right. We just… didn’t. We never acknowledged it.”

“I guess I thought we’d have time,” I continue softly. “But now it feels like we’re at the end of an era, especially with everything changing.”

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, and I can see the pain in his expression. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How everything shifts and we don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late?”

“It is,” I say, my heart swelling with emotion. “But we should honor that. This is our last meal together under one roof as kids. It feels right to finally say goodbye to that part of our lives.”

James’s eyes soften as he processes my words. “I don’t want to forget it, though. Our childhood, what it meant to us.”

“Me neither,” I say, feeling a tear prick the corner of my eye. “But this moment, sharing dinner together, gives us a chance to acknowledge what we had. We’ll always be siblings, and no matter where life takes us, we’ll carry those memories with us.”

He lifts his glass of lemonade, and I do the same. “To family,” he says, his voice steady. “No matter what.”

“To family,” I echo, clinking my glass against his.

As we take a sip, I feel a rush of nostalgia and love for the life we’ve shared. We may be stepping into new roles, but this moment—the acknowledgment of our shared past and the promise of a future—cements our bond even more.

We talk and laugh over dinner, reminiscing about our childhood, our shared memories, and the bittersweetness of growing up. It feels like we’re wrapping up our time as children and stepping boldly into adulthood together, and I know that whatever the future holds, I‘ll always have this: my brother, my first and most important companion.

James

The flickering glow of the fireplace casts a warm light around the spacious dining room, but the air is heavy with the weight of what’s to come. I sit across from Lydia at the wooden table, her large belly resting comfortably against the edge, a reminder of the new life she’s nurturing. We both know that facing Mortimer is unavoidable, and so we’ve decided to prepare in the only way we know how: through the roles we’ve played our entire lives.

“Okay, I’ll start,” Lydia says, her eyes glinting with determination. She leans forward, adopting a cold, sneering tone that sends a shiver down my spine. “Look at you, James. Playing house with Ruby like some pathetic little boy. You think you’ve built a life? You’re just throwing away your future.”

I can feel the familiar anger rising within me. “I’m trying to create something real. Something that means something to me.”

Her smile turns sharper, her expression shifting into Mortimer’s mocking glare. “Real? You think pretending to be happy is real? You’re weak, James. I should’ve knocked more backbone into you when I had the chance. You’re still just a shadow of a man.”

I take a deep breath, trying to channel the frustration into my next response. “And what about you, Lydia? You think being pregnant at eighteen is some kind of achievement? You’re just a punchline waiting to happen. The tabloids will have a field day with you.”

She leans back, unfazed, and counters, “Better a punchline than a failure like you. At least I’m making choices. You’re just clinging to your sister like a lifeline. You’re so desperate for approval it’s almost sad.”

“Approval?” I scoff, feeling the anger simmer beneath my skin. “You’re hiding behind your brother’s shield. What are you going to do when reality hits? You can’t rely on your family’s money forever, Lydia.”

“Family’s money?” she laughs, the sound echoing with disdain. “At least I’m taking charge of my life. What are you doing? Wasting time with Ruby while I’m building a future for my children. You’ll be the one left behind, James.”

The tension builds, the room thick with unspoken memories and emotions. I shift in my chair, trying to maintain focus. “And what about you being a laughingstock? You think that pregnancy will earn you respect? It’s a burden, not a blessing.”

“Maybe so,” she retorts, her voice rising. “But at least I’m not afraid to take risks. You? You’re just a coward, too scared to embrace life. Maybe if Mortimer had beaten some sense into you, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

The words cut deep, igniting something fierce inside me. “And maybe if you’d stood up for yourself, you wouldn’t be here either, hiding in Ophelia’s house, waiting for someone else to rescue you. You think Graham is your savior? You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

Lydia’s expression hardens as she channels Mortimer more deeply. “You really believe you can protect her, don’t you? You think you can shield her from what’s coming? You’re too weak to face it. Just like always, you’ll crumble under pressure.”

The atmosphere is charged, the fire crackling softly as we both take our roles further, pushing the boundaries of our emotions. It feels like a dance, a twisted performance of our pasts, and yet I can sense a shift occurring. As the laughter dies and the pain surfaces, I realize we’re venturing into dangerous territory.

“Enough,” I finally say, my voice steadying. “This isn’t who we are anymore.”

Lydia pauses, and we lock eyes, the realization dawning on us. “We don’t have to engage with him, do we?” she whispers, her voice softer now, reflective.

“No,” I reply, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “We’re not defined by his words. We can just let him throw his tantrums and not react at all.”

A small smile creeps across her face, and the tension begins to dissipate. “We’re not there for his approval. We’re there for a legal transaction, and we have the power to walk away from his cruelty.”

“Exactly,” I say, feeling lighter as we move forward. “We don’t owe him anything. He can scream all he wants, but we’ll stand our ground. We’re here for ourselves and the future we want to create.”

With a deep breath, we both lean back in our chairs, the weight of the roleplay lifting as we reflect on the moment. 

“James,” Lydia says, her voice earnest, “none of what we said tonight is how we feel about each other, right?”

“Of course not,” I assure her, feeling a swell of emotion. “We’re a team. Always have been.”

She offers a soft smile, and then, as if drawn by an invisible force, we both rise and step toward each other. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly as if to shield us both from the memories we’ve just revisited. 

After a moment, I pull back slightly, meeting her gaze. “You know, we’re really messed up, aren’t we?” I say, managing a weak smile despite the heaviness lingering in the air.

Lydia chuckles softly, her eyes glistening. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“Maybe we should add ‘roleplay experts’ to our resumes,” I joke, but it’s tinged with sadness.

She shakes her head, still smiling. “As long as it helps us face Mortimer, I’m all for it.”

With that, the bond we share feels stronger, a mix of laughter and tears weaving through the air, and I know we’re ready to confront whatever comes next—together.

****

By the time I try to sleep, everything falls apart. The bed in the guest room feels too big, too cold. It doesn’t smell like Ruby. It doesn’t feel like home. Every shadow stretches into something darker, something lurking. I can’t breathe. It’s like I’m back in that room with Mortimer, the walls closing in. The panic claws at me, and I can’t stop it. I want to scream, but my throat is too tight. I lie there, drenched in sweat, shaking so hard I can’t even turn over.

The flashback hits like a punch to the gut, and I’m thrown back to that night, his hands on me, the sickening weight of it all. I’m powerless again, and that realization sends me spiraling.

Somehow, I drag myself to Lydia’s room. I knock softly, not even sure if she’s awake.

When she opens the door, her face softens immediately. She doesn’t ask what’s wrong. She just knows. 

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” I manage to choke out. 

Lydia reaches for me, pulling me into the room, and I collapse into her, clinging to her in a way I never expected I would.

She doesn’t say a word as she leads me to her bed. I’ve always been the one to hold her, to let her sleep in my bed when she was the one having nightmares. But now it’s my turn to fall apart, and Lydia lets me, no questions asked.

“Come here,” she whispers, scooting over to make room for me. I slide under the covers, trying to calm my shaking hands, my racing heart. 

Lydia places my hand gently on her belly, letting me feel the babies move beneath her skin. It grounds me, that little flicker of life. Her presence, the warmth of the babies, reminds me I’m still here, still breathing.

“You’re okay, James. You’re here with me,” she murmurs softly. “You’re safe.”

We stay like that for a long time, until the panic subsides and my breath steadies. I don’t sleep much that night, but I stay in her bed, lulled by the rise and fall of her breath, the comforting weight of her belly against my hand. 

Ruby

On Saturday, Ember and I plan a day of flea market and thrift shopping in Pemwick with Lin. The three of us wander through stalls filled with vintage treasures, laughter echoing as we sift through racks of clothes and tables piled high with quirky knickknacks. It’s refreshing to lose myself in the thrill of the hunt, and we even find a few unique pieces for Dad‘s birthday.

Later that day, Alistair texts, asking if he can treat his three favorite girls to dinner. “How about pizza in Pemwick?” he suggests, and I can practically hear the playful grin in his words. I quickly text back my enthusiastic agreement, feeling the warmth of friendship surrounding me.

We gather at a cozy pizzeria, the smell of melted cheese and fresh basil wrapping around us. As we settle into our booth, Alistair leans back with a dramatic sigh. “So, ladies, what’s the verdict? Who’s getting the first slice of my delicious pizza?”

“Oh, please,” Lin scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes. “You just want to see if there are any cute guys working here.”

Alistair grins and leans forward, narrowing his eyes at the waiter as he approaches our table. The guy is tall with tousled hair and an easy smile. “I mean, can you blame me?” Alistair winks. “Look at that jawline. He could cut glass.”

Lin laughs, shaking her head. “He’s straight as an arrow, Alistair. You’d have better luck trying to convince a brick wall to date you.”

“Hey! You never know!” Alistair protests, throwing his hands up in mock offense. “I could charm him with my dazzling personality.”

“Or scare him away with your incessant flirting,” Ember chimes in, giggling. 

Alistair narrows his eyes at us playfully. “You all are just jealous because I have taste.”

As our pizzas arrive, the banter continues, and the laughter fills the air. It’s a lively atmosphere, and for a moment, the absence of James feels less heavy. We enjoy the evening, sharing slices and stories, the camaraderie bringing warmth to the table.

After dinner, we return home, and I spend Sunday diving into my studies, focussing on my history essay. The hours pass, while I manage to lose myself in the material, the pages becoming my world for the day.

Then, suddenly, I feel a familiar presence behind me. A shiver of anticipation runs down my spine as I sense his warmth. “Hey,” he says softly, his hands resting on my shoulders, grounding me in the moment.

I turn around, my heart racing. There he is, James, his expression a mix of relief and happiness. “You’re back,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Miss me?” he teases, but his eyes are serious, searching mine for something.

“Always,” I reply, standing up to wrap my arms around him. The hug feels like coming home, the ache of his absence fading away as I sink into his embrace.

“Let me help you with that essay,” he offers, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “I’ve got some thoughts.”

“I mean, you’ve already nailed the technical side of it,” James says, pointing to one of my paragraphs. “But what if you dug a little deeper into the human aspect? Like, what did all these innovations mean for everyday people?”

I tap my finger on the keyboard, thinking it over. “Right, like how families were torn apart because kids were sent to factories. Or how the factory system created a divide between workers and owners. It’s more than just machinery—it’s about how society was reshaped.”

“Exactly!” he agrees, eyes lighting up. “And the working class didn’t just accept it—they started organizing. Strikes, labor unions... The whole movement came out of this. What if we talk about how that changed the political landscape too?”

I nod, getting excited now. “Yeah, and not just in terms of power dynamics but socially too. Like, women entering the workforce for the first time in large numbers. That had to shift the way families functioned, and even the way women saw themselves.”

James grins, leaning back a little. “See? This is why I like helping you with your essays. You always take it somewhere I didn’t expect.”

I smile back, feeling the buzz of our ideas bouncing off each other. “Well, you definitely push me in the right direction. But what about the ripple effects? This whole revolution set the stage for modern capitalism, and it wasn’t exactly a smooth transition.”

“Totally,” he agrees. “The rich got richer, and the poor… well, they didn’t get much of anything. But it was also the birth of the modern economy, right? Global trade exploded, and countries started competing on a whole new scale. Maybe you can tie in how the revolution wasn’t just British, but global.”

I type quickly, capturing the essence of our brainstorming. “It’s like... this one event reshaped the entire world. Not just in terms of economics but in how people thought about work, life, and society.”

James nods, a satisfied smile on his face. “Now that’s an essay.”

As we finish the last touches on my essay, I can feel the clock ticking down to dinner. The anticipation of spending time with everyone is exciting, but part of me wishes we had just a few more moments alone. I glance at the door, half-hoping for a delay, but James seems to sense it too.

He stands up, stretching slightly, then turns to me, his gaze intense and warm. “Before we go down, can I steal a moment?”

I look up, my heart racing at the prospect of a moment just for us. “Of course,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

He steps closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling me in. He pauses, searching my eyes as if weighing his next move. Then, in one smooth motion, he wraps his arms around my waist, drawing me closer.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my cheek.

“Hey,” I echo, my heart pounding as he leans in.

In an instant, his lips are on mine, soft and warm, igniting a spark that feels like it’s been waiting for this moment all day. I melt into the kiss, losing myself in the taste of him and the way he holds me, grounding me in a world that sometimes feels chaotic.

Every worry, every doubt about the future fades away as I kiss him back, my fingers tangling in his hair. There’s something intoxicating about the way he kisses me—like he’s pouring all his emotions into that one moment.

After what feels like both a heartbeat and an eternity, we pull back, our foreheads resting against each other. I can see the flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of longing and reassurance.

“Okay, we really need to go,” he says, his voice a soft rumble, but I can see the excitement and desire still dancing in his expression.

“Yeah,” I reply, my heart still racing. “But just one more second…”

He grins, and we dive back into another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent, as if we’re trying to memorize the feeling of each other before we step back into the world outside this small, cozy room.

Finally, we pull apart, breathless and smiling, but I notice that he needs a moment to gather himself. James stands there for a moment, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling as he takes a deep breath, clearly trying to temper the excitement coursing through him.

“Okay,” he says finally, opening his eyes and forcing a smile. “Now we can go.” 

I nod, feeling lighter as we make our way to the door. As we step into the hallway, the sounds of laughter and chatter from downstairs greet us, reminding me of the warmth and love that surrounds us.

James

The room is dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlamp filtering through the curtains. It’s late, and Ruby lies next to me, her body a warm, steady presence in the quiet night. We’ve been like this for a while—our legs tangled under the blankets, her fingers tracing slow patterns on my arm. It’s the first time in weeks we’ve spent two nights apart, and I can feel the longing between us, a pull that’s both tender and intense.

As the silence stretches, I know she’s waiting for me to say something, to share what’s been on my mind since I returned from Ophelia’s. I’ve been dreading it—not because I don’t want to tell her, but because I hate that I still carry this burden. After everything, I’m still haunted by fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of the memories that won’t let go.

Ruby shifts beside me, her head turning to catch my gaze in the dim light. There’s an understanding in her eyes, a patience that I’ve come to rely on. Tonight, I decide I need to share the weight of it, to let her in.

„I couldn’t sleep,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. Ruby’s fingers still on my arm, her grip gentle but grounding.

„When you were at Ophelia’s?” she asks softly, already knowing the answer but giving me the space to speak.

I nod, staring at the ceiling as I search for the words. “It was hard. I thought it would be easier, but it wasn’t.” My throat tightens, and I push through. “I had a panic attack. It felt like I was back there, in that room with him. I couldn’t breathe.”

Ruby’s hand tightens around mine, her thumb brushing soothingly over my knuckles. “What happened?”

„I ended up in Lydia’s room,” I continue, feeling the need to explain. “I was so scared. She helped me through it. It felt… comforting, but it’s hard for me to let her see me like that.” I take a breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “When I felt the babies move, it helped a little. But I didn’t want to be that vulnerable with her.”

I pause, waiting for Ruby to respond, but she doesn’t rush me. Instead, she shifts closer, curling into me, her warmth enveloping me. It’s what I need. Just her presence, the comfort of being together.

„I hate that I’m still struggling with this,” I admit, my voice cracking slightly. “I thought once I got out of that room, it would get better. But I still feel… stuck.”

Ruby presses a soft kiss to my shoulder, her breath warm against my skin. “You’re not stuck,” she whispers gently. “You’re healing, and that takes time.“

I swallow hard, the truth of her words hitting home. “I’m scared to sleep alone,” I confess, the admission feeling like a crack in my armor. “I don’t know how to make it go away.”

Ruby’s hand rests over my heart, her touch calming. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she says softly. “You’ve been carrying so much. It’s okay to need more than just me. There are professionals to help people deal with this. You could see someone.“

Her words resonate deep within me, and I blink back the sting of tears. I don’t want to cry, but I know she’s right. I’ve been trying to manage everything on my own, thinking I could handle it all if I just had her. But I can’t, and admitting that scares me.

„I don’t want him to have that power over me anymore,” I whisper, vulnerability pouring from me. “I want to be truly free of him.”

Ruby lifts her head, searching my eyes in the dim light. “You will be,” she assures me. “But it’s going to take time. You don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you, and we’ll find someone who can help you.”

I nod, but it feels like a distant promise. I don’t know how to get there yet, how to escape this shadow that looms over me. But with Ruby beside me, I feel the first flickers of hope.

„Are you okay now?” she asks, her voice careful. “Do you want to talk more?”

I shake my head. “No… I just want to be with you.”

Her eyes soften as she studies me, then she leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s tender and slow. There’s no urgency, just a shared warmth, a reaffirmation of our connection. In this moment, she tells me without words that I’m safe with her, that I’m not alone.

I sink into the kiss, my body relaxing for the first time all night. Ruby shifts on top of me, her hands sliding under my shirt, tracing the lines of my body with a feather-light touch. She just touches me, reminding me that I’m here, with her, and nothing else matters.

“Is this what you want?” she asks softly, pulling back slightly to look into my eyes. “Tell me if it’s not, James. I don’t want to push you.”

Her gentle inquiry stirs something inside me. “I want this,” I whisper, my hands finding her hips. “I missed you. I need you.”

She nods, understanding glimmering in her eyes. She leans back in, her lips brushing against mine again, and this time, I allow myself to fully surrender to the moment.

Ruby guides me through it, her hands soft, her voice a soothing murmur as she whispers words of comfort and reassurance. Her movements are deliberate, each caress pulling me deeper into her warmth. She’s leading me, grounding me in something real and safe.

Her hands slip lower, undressing me with a care that makes my heart swell. Each touch is a reminder that I’m loved, that I’m safe with her. I don’t feel the need to take control or prove anything; I just let her love me, let her pull me into the light.

„You’re safe with me,” she whispers against my ear, her voice a lifeline that draws me away from the shadows. “You’re always safe with me.”

I let the warmth of her body envelop me as she moves above me, slow and gentle. Each motion brings me further from the fear that clings to my past, anchoring me in the present. I can feel her everywhere—her hands, her breath, her love. I give myself over to it, knowing that in this moment, I’m free.

As she shifts, our bodies intertwine, and the heat between us builds. I can feel her pulse against mine, the way her body responds to every touch. There’s an electric intimacy in this shared space, and it makes the weight of my fears feel lighter, if only for now.

Her breath quickens as she finds her rhythm, her body moving in sync with mine, and I’m captivated by the sight of her surrender. I watch her, mesmerized, as she lets go of everything outside of us. It’s a beautiful thing to witness—the way she becomes lost in the moment, her pleasure shining through her eyes.

„Let go, James,” she whispers, her voice a soft encouragement that propels me forward. “You’re here. You’re safe. Let go.”

With her words in my ears, I feel the tension build, the warmth of her body guiding me closer to the edge. I hold on to her, letting her lead me through the waves of pleasure. 

Her climax comes like a gentle wave, and I’m there with her, feeling every pulse, every shudder that rolls through her. It’s beautiful, and I can’t help but lose myself in the experience. She gasps my name, and the sound ignites something inside me, pulling me further from the shadows.

As she rides out her pleasure, her body relaxes against me, and I can feel her warmth spreading through me. But she doesn’t stop. Even in the aftermath of her own pleasure, she keeps moving, pulling me toward my own release.

And I’m close—so close. The feel of her, the warmth of her body against mine, the sound of her breath in my ear—it’s everything. I can feel the pressure building inside me, tightening with every movement.

„Let go, James,” she whispers again, and her voice guides me as I surrender completely. The tension snaps, and I let the release wash over me. It’s overwhelming and beautiful, and I can feel the warmth of her love wrapping around me like a protective cocoon.

When it’s over, I collapse back against the pillow, utterly spent, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Ruby’s body is still pressed against mine, her forehead resting on mine. I can feel her heartbeat, steady and strong, and it pulls me back into the present, back into the safety of her embrace.

I’m not in that dark place anymore. I’m here, with her. 

I press a kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as I whisper, “Thank you, Ruby.”

I pull her closer, the room quiet around us, but her warmth makes it feel alive. There’s something I haven’t asked her yet, something that’s been sitting at the back of my mind since she got back. I kiss her forehead, the soft scent of her hair filling my senses.

“So, how was your weekend?” I ask, keeping my voice low, not wanting to break the peaceful moment.

She smiles, snuggling into me a bit more. “It was fun. I needed that—just hanging out and being me for a while. Pizza with Alistair, Lin, and Ember was exactly what I needed.”

I chuckle softly. “Alistair told me about it. He made it sound like it was some kind of grand event. Was he his usual over-the-top self?”

Ruby laughs, the sound light and familiar, and I feel it ease some of the weight I didn’t realize I was carrying. “Of course he was. He insisted on choosing the toppings and tried to convince us that pineapple and jalapeños would revolutionize pizza forever.”

I shake my head, smiling. “He’s impossible.”

She looks up at me, grinning. “Yeah, but we love him for it. And Lin was just shaking her head the whole time, letting him ramble on. Ember tried to be the voice of reason, but you know how that goes.”

Our laughter echoes around us, and I feel that warmth spreading, the easy rhythm of being together again. As she laughs, I think about how maybe I did something right this weekend. I didn’t push, didn’t demand her time. I just gave her space, let her have that time to be Ruby with her friends, not tied to anything else.

And now she’s here, wrapped up in my arms, laughing about the chaos that is Alistair and everything else that makes our world feel right.

I hold her a little tighter, feeling that quiet satisfaction settle in. Maybe this is what it’s about—giving her room to breathe, and knowing that when she comes back, we’re right here, as we should be.

Chapter Text

James

I thought I was ready. Lydia and I had spent hours prepping for that meeting—going over every possible scenario, even role-playing how I’d handle seeing him again. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality of Mortimer walking into that room, looking exactly the same, like nothing had changed. Like he still had control over everything. It didn’t matter how much I’d built myself up in the days leading to it—just seeing him was enough to unravel me. And now, days later, it’s still gnawing at me, twisting everything inside. 

I don't know how to distract myself anymore. I don’t even know how to explain it. It's always there. But the fact that Angus needs help in the garden is just as good as distraction as anything else — and at least I'm doing him a favor.

Angus

Winter gives finally way to spring, and it’s a relief.

The spring air is warm, and I’m watching James as he fiddles with the latch on the garden door. He’s fixed it under my instruction—he’s good with his hands, quick to learn, though you’d never know it by the way he downplays everything. He wipes his hands on his jeans as he comes back to sit with me on the patio. We’re having a beer, the afternoon sunlight filtering through the trees, casting long shadows across the grass.

It’s quiet between us, but it’s the kind of quiet I’ve come to appreciate. James has always been one to sit in his thoughts, especially since everything happened with Mortimer. I’ve stopped trying to force conversation out of him, knowing that when he’s ready, he’ll speak. And sure enough, after a long pause, he does.

“I never wanted Ruby to see any of it,” James says suddenly, his voice low, eyes fixed on his beer bottle. “I kept thinking, if I could just keep her away from it all...”

His words hang in the air, and I let the silence sit for a moment before I reply. “You did what you thought was right.”

James shakes his head, a bitter smile pulling at his lips. “What I thought was right...”

I don’t push. I’ve learned with James that pushing only makes him retreat, so I sit back in my chair, nursing my beer, waiting.

He glances at me, his eyes darker than usual, the weight of his unspoken words heavy between us. Then, finally, he speaks again. “That night... in the study, when I finally confronted him, it was...”

His voice trails off, and he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to pull himself together. But I see the way his hands are trembling, the way his jaw clenches as he struggles to keep it all inside.

“James,” I say softly, leaning forward, meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He looks down at his hands, silent for a long time. Then, in a voice so quiet I almost don’t catch it, he starts talking. And it’s like a dam breaking.

He tells me everything. Every detail of that night with Mortimer. The way he provoked his father, the violence that followed, the feeling of his body giving out under the blows, the sound of his own ribs cracking. The way he filmed it, baited Mortimer, and yet still offered him a way out.

The rawness in his voice cuts through me, and though I stay calm on the outside, inside I feel the shock ripple through me. I knew it had been bad. I’d seen the aftermath, seen the bruises and the scars. But hearing the full tale like this—James’s quiet, measured voice painting a picture of violence and desperation—it’s almost too much to bear.

He pauses, staring out into the garden, his chest rising and falling as if he’s just run a marathon. I take a slow breath, steadying myself.

“James,” I say carefully, “you’ve been through hell. No one expects you to carry that on your own. Ruby... she’s strong. She’s been with you through all of this. You don’t have to protect her from the truth. She probably knows most of it already. And maybe — maybe knowing the rest of it would it make easier for her too.”

James swallows hard, shaking his head. “I don’t want her to carry it. I don’t want her to see that side of me... what I did. How I...”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I can hear the self-loathing in his voice. And my heart breaks for him, for the way he’s trapped himself in this cycle of guilt and shame.

“Son,” I say quietly, “keeping it from her isn’t protecting her. If anything, it’s hurting her more. She wants to be there for you.”

James’s shoulders slump, and for the first time since we started talking, he looks me in the eye, his gaze raw and pleading.

“I don’t know how,” he admits, his voice cracking. “I don’t know how to let her...”

I reach out, resting a hand on his arm. “You start by talking. Just like you’re doing now. And you see someone who can help you work through it. A therapist, James. It’s not weakness to get help. It’s strength.”

He exhales, a long, shaky breath. I can see the wheels turning in his head, the way he’s wrestling with everything I’ve said. But before he can respond, we hear the front door open, and a moment later, Ruby steps into the garden, looking around for him.

Her eyes land on us, and she hesitates for a second, probably sensing the weight of the conversation. Then she walks over, concern etched on her face. “Hey,” she says softly, her eyes flicking between us. “Everything okay?”

James looks at me, his eyes searching for something—permission, maybe, or reassurance. I give him a small nod, squeezing his arm gently before I wheel back, giving them space.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” I say, offering Ruby a reassuring smile as I move towards the door. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”

Ruby watches me go, then turns back to James, her expression softening. She sits down beside him, her hand gently resting on his knee. “James?” she asks quietly, searching his face.

For a moment, James doesn’t say anything. But then, slowly, he leans into her, his head resting against her shoulder, and before I’ve even made it inside, I hear him break. The quiet sobs that follow are full of everything he’s been holding in for so long.

I stop just inside the door, watching through the window as Ruby wraps her arms around him, holding him as if she could shield him from all the pain he’s been through. And for a moment, I feel a lump rise in my throat. 

Our daughter. The wonderful woman she grew into. Kind, strong, loving.

I wheel away, giving them their privacy, but I know something has shifted tonight. James trusted me enough to open up, and now... now he’s letting Ruby in too. I just hope it’s enough to start healing that deep wound he carries.

As I sit at the kitchen table, the faint sound of James’s sobs still echoing in my ears, I close my eyes and say a quiet prayer. Not just for him, but for Ruby too—for the strength she’ll need to help him through this. Because God knows they’re going to need it.

Ruby

Once Dad heads inside, it’s just the two of us out here, and I can feel the tension in the air between us. James doesn’t say anything at first; his body feels heavy against mine, his head resting on my shoulder. I can still hear the quiet sound of his sobs, but it’s more than that—it’s the weight of years of holding it all in, of pushing through because he thought that was what he had to do. 

I run my fingers gently through his hair, my touch soft and slow. “You don’t have to talk right now,” I whisper. “Just breathe.”

He takes a long, shaky breath, and I feel some of the tension ease from his body, but there’s still that undercurrent of pain. His fingers grip my knee like he’s trying to ground himself, to keep from falling apart again.

After a few moments, I shift slightly, leaning back so I can look at him. His eyes are red, his face pale, and he’s still fighting to keep it together. But there’s a vulnerability in his gaze that I haven’t seen in a while—like he’s finally letting himself feel everything.

“You’re allowed to break, you know,” I say softly, cupping his face in my hands. “You don’t have to keep holding everything together.”

He lets out a rough breath, his eyes closing as he leans into my touch. “I’ve spent so long trying to keep it all inside. I didn’t... I didn’t know how to stop.”

I feel my heart tighten in my chest. “I know,” I whisper. “But you don’t have to do that anymore. You’ve been carrying so much for so long. It’s time to let some of it go.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but I can see the conflict in his eyes when he opens them again. “I don’t know if I can,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how.”

I take a deep breath, resting my forehead against his. “It’s not going to be easy. But you’ve already done the hardest part—you opened up, even though it hurt. Now you just need to keep taking steps.”

James pulls back slightly, meeting my gaze with a mix of vulnerability and fear. “What if I can’t tell you everything? What if I don’t ever want to?”

I nod slowly, understanding. “That’s okay, James. You don’t have to share every detail if you’re not ready. I already know enough about that night to understand that it was terrible. You get to choose what you want to share, and I respect that completely. I just want you to hurt less.”

He searches my eyes, and I can see the uncertainty in his. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m too... messed up?”

I shake my head, squeezing his hand. “You’re not messed up. You’re hurt. Healing takes time, but you can do it. We’ll do it together.”

He exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Together,” he echoes, like he’s testing the word, seeing how it feels.

I nod, giving him a small smile. “Together. You don’t have to be perfect, James. You just have to be willing to try.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching mine, and after a long pause, he finally nods. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll try.”

I feel a surge of relief wash over me, and I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “That’s all I’m asking.”

As we sit together, I know this is just the beginning for him, but he doesn’t have to face it alone. And that knowledge brings a sense of calm, a small light amidst the uncertainty.

Helen

Angus rolls into the kitchen, his expression soft but serious as he settles at the table. I can sense the gravity in his demeanor as I set the kettle to boil, stealing a glance at him. There’s something weighing on him, something he’s been holding back.

“Everything alright?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light, but I know the answer.

He exhales slowly, leaning forward as if he’s gathering his thoughts. “James finally opened up to me, Helen. He broke down and told me everything about that night—about Mortimer.”

I take a step closer, my heart sinking as I process his words. “How bad was it?”

“It’s worse than we thought,” he admits, his voice thick with concern. “He’s been carrying that pain alone for too long, and it’s finally catching up with him. He needs help— real help, and he needs it now.”

I nod, my stomach tightening. “But where do we start? We can’t let him slip through the cracks. If he’s on an NHS waiting list, it could take years.”

“That’s just it,” Angus replies, his eyes earnest. “He can’t just walk into a clinic here with his name attached to all this. He needs someone discreet, someone who understands the weight of the Beaufort name.”

I lean against the counter, considering. “What about his aunt? Ophelia? She might have connections. James can’t be the first one with money and a name to need therapy.”

A small smile breaks through Angus’s worried expression. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Ophelia would know someone trustworthy, and she can help navigate this.”

Just then, I hear the back door open, and Ember steps into the kitchen. I can see the concern etched across her face, and I can’t help but feel for her. At seventeen, she’s still processing so much herself, and seeing James like that must be hard. 

“I just saw James in the garden with Ruby,” she says, her voice wavering. “He looked... shattered.”

I move toward her, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “He’s been through a lot today, Ember. Ruby is there with him, supporting him.”

Ember shakes her head, her eyes wide. “I know, but it’s just... hard to see him like that. He’s always been so James , you know? And now...”

“It’s okay to feel that way,” I reassure her. “James has been carrying so much pain for so long. It’s brave of him to open up, even if it feels overwhelming right now.”

“I just want him to be okay,” Ember says, her voice softer than usual but determined. “But I don’t know how.”

Angus speaks up, his tone warm and steady. “We’re all going to help him together, Ember. It’s not on you alone. We’re family, and that means we support each other, especially during tough times like these.”

I squeeze Ember’s arm gently, letting her know she’s not alone in this. “We’ll reach out to Ophelia, and she’ll help us find the right therapist for James. He needs someone who understands him, someone who can guide him through this.”

Ember nods slowly, her worry still lingering, but I can see a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Okay. I just hate seeing him hurt like this.”

“We all do,” I reply softly. “But James is strong, and with the right support, he’ll get through this. We just need to take it one step at a time.”

As Ember stands there, her concern palpable, I take a deep breath, searching for the right words. “Ember, I know this is hard for you to see. But the biggest help you can give James right now is to keep treating him like you always do. He’s still the same James—the stand-in big brother, your self-chosen math and chemistry tutor, and the one who burns toast every time he steps into the kitchen.”

Ember tilts her head, looking unsure. “But how can I act like everything’s normal when he’s hurting so much?”

“Because that’s what he needs,” I say gently, my voice steady. “He’s always been there for you, supporting you in your own challenges. He needs to know that he can still be himself, even while he’s dealing with this. If you treat him like he’s broken, it’ll only reinforce that feeling. He’s still James, and he needs reminders of the things that bring him joy.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to talk with us?” she asks, worry creasing her brow.

“That’s okay, too. Just being there for him, being your usual self, will show him that he’s not alone,” I reply, placing my hand on her shoulder. “It’ll give him space to open up when he’s ready. And when he does, you can be there to listen, just like he’s listened to you in the past.”

Ember nods slowly, absorbing my words. “I can do that,” she says finally, a hint of determination returning to her voice. “I’ll make sure to keep things normal. Maybe I can get him to burn some toast for me later.”

“That’s the spirit!” I say, smiling. “Just remember, it’s okay to feel worried, but showing him that life can still be normal might be the best support you can give.”

Angus watches us, his expression softening as he sees Ember beginning to understand. “You’re right, Helen. That connection is important. James needs to know that he’s still part of this family, that we’re all here for him, no matter what.”

Ember smiles back at us, a spark of confidence lighting her eyes. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll be there for him, just like always. I‘ll keep being a pain in his ass for not doing laundry duties.”

“That’s all we can ask,” I laugh, feeling a swell of pride for her. “We’ll get through this together.”

James

As Ruby and I step inside, the warmth of the house wraps around us, a stark contrast to the chill of the evening air. I can hear laughter and the clattering of pots coming from the kitchen, and the scent of something delicious wafts through the air. It’s comforting, a reminder of the life happening around us.

Helen peeks through the doorway, her eyes softening at the sight of us. “You two should head to the living room,” she says, a gentle smile on her face. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

Ruby gives me a reassuring nod and leads me toward the couch. As I sink into the plush pillows, I can feel the exhaustion settle heavily on my body. I let my head fall onto her lap, and she instinctively runs her fingers through my hair. It’s soothing, a balm for the weariness that clings to me.

I shiver slightly, the cold from outside still lingering in my bones. “You’re cold,” Ruby observes softly. She quickly grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around me, her hands warm against my skin. The weight of the blanket feels like a protective embrace, cocooning me in comfort.

Just then, Helen appears again, carrying a steaming cup of tea. “Here you go, love,” she says, placing it on the coffee table beside me. The rich aroma fills the air, and I can’t help but take a deep breath, letting the warmth of it settle into my senses.

I close my eyes, letting the sounds of the household wash over me—the faint voices from the kitchen, laughter, the occasional clatter of dishes. The smell of whatever is cooking is enticing, something hearty and warm. It reminds me that I’m home, surrounded by people who care.

In this moment, with Ruby close and the warmth of the Bell household enveloping me, I can finally allow myself to relax. I’m safe here. I might still have a long road ahead, but for now, I’m simply grateful to be part of this moment, to be cared for in a way I didn’t think I could accept.

At dinner, the kitchen is filled with the smell of stew, roasted potatoes, and vegetables. Helen places a steaming plate in front of me, the rich smell inviting, but it’s more than the food that fills the space—it’s the sense of belonging. Ember sits across from me, watching expectantly. “Don’t think you’re getting out of pudding either,” she says, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

I nod, knowing there’s no point arguing, especially when Ruby’s hand is resting on my leg under the table, grounding me. I take a deep breath and dig into the stew, the warmth spreading through me with each bite. It feels like more than just food—it feels like care. Helen is quick to refill my plate when I’m halfway through, and I don’t protest. It’s like she thinks she can feed me enough to make the pain disappear, and maybe, just maybe, a part of me believes she can.

Angus is talking calmly about everyday things—the weather, something about the neighbors—keeping the conversation light, giving me space to just be there without the weight of anything heavy. It’s a relief not to have to think, to just sit here with them and focus on the clinking of silverware and the taste of home-cooked food.

After the stew, Ember makes sure I try the chocolate pudding she whipped up. It's still warm, and the sweetness lingers on my tongue, a stark contrast to the bitterness of the last few days. Ruby’s hand never leaves my leg, a constant reminder that she’s there, steady and unshakeable.

Once we’re done, Helen stands, summoning Ruby and Ember to the kitchen with a pointed look. “Come on, girls. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

I start to rise, but Angus places a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back into my seat. “You sit,” he says. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

As the kitchen clears, Angus turns his attention to me, his tone soft but firm. “James, I was thinking… would it be alright if I called your Aunt Ophelia? Asked her for advice on finding someone suitable for therapy?”

The word "therapy" makes me tense, but Angus’s voice is so calm, so matter-of-fact, that it doesn’t feel as overwhelming as usual. I’m not a fan of the idea, not by a long shot, but I know I need help. And the thought of someone else—Ophelia, of all people—taking that burden off my shoulders brings a surprising wave of relief.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice low. “That’s… okay. Thank you.”

Angus gives me a small nod, like we’ve come to an understanding. “Good. Let me take care of that call tomorrow, then.”

He asks me to get him a glas of whiskey. “Pour yourself a sip too,” he says with a half-smile. “Then I’m sending you to bed. It’s not even 8:30, but you need it.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting me. Whiskey and then being sent to bed like a child—it’s almost comical. I pour the whiskey, taking a sip, feeling the warmth settle in my chest. Angus watches with a satisfied nod before gesturing toward the stairs.

“Go on, lad. Bed.”

I don’t argue. I know he’s right. As I get up and make my way to bed, I can still hear the faint sounds of the Bells in the kitchen, their voices soft and familiar, as I let the exhaustion take over.

Ruby 

When I finally make it upstairs, the house is quiet, save for the occasional soft clatter from the kitchen. I push open the door to our room and find James already in bed, the blankets pulled up to his chin. He looks completely wiped out, his breathing deep and steady, his face finally relaxed after the weight of everything today.

I pause for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, letting the events of the day wash over me. The break in James earlier, his tears, the way he collapsed into my arms—it’s still so fresh. It hurt to see him like that, to watch him finally let go of everything he’s been holding in for so long. But at the same time, I know this is part of what he needs, even if he won’t tell me everything. Maybe he never will, and that’s okay. I just want him hurting less.

I move as quietly as I can, slipping out of my clothes and into something soft, careful not to wake him. As I slide under the covers beside him, I try to be as gentle as possible.

James

I stir awake when the bed shifts. My body’s heavy with exhaustion, but I know it’s Ruby. She moves quietly, trying not to wake me, but I feel her—the warmth of her presence, the way the mattress dips when she’s there. I open my eyes just a little and watch her slide under the covers beside me, her movements soft and cautious, like she’s afraid of disturbing something fragile. 

For a second, I just lie there, watching her settle in. She doesn’t notice that I’m awake, and I can see the day’s weight on her too. She’s tired, the kind of tired that’s more than just physical. I want to reach out, pull her close, but something holds me back—something between hesitation and fear.

Where are we now?

I can’t shake the thought. These last few days... hell, these last few weeks have been brutal. And today... losing it the way I did, completely breaking down in front of her—it feels like I’m asking too much of her. Like I’m too much.

I don’t want to be too much.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? We take turns being strong. I’ve seen her strong for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And I try to be strong for her too, but today I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

I reach out, resting a hand lightly on her arm, and she turns to me, surprised that I’m awake. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s no judgment there. Just... her. The quiet kind of understanding we’ve always had, even when we’ve hurt each other. 

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey,” I murmur back, my voice rough with sleep.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. She just looks at me, her fingers brushing a stray curl from my forehead, and I feel that tightness in my chest again, like I’m on the verge of something. Like I’m going to say something, but I can’t quite find the words.

“Are we okay?” I ask softly, even though I’m not sure I want the answer.

Ruby’s hand stops, her eyes softening, and she leans down, resting her forehead against mine. “We’re okay, James,” she says, her voice steady. “We’re more than okay.”

I let out a shaky breath, not realizing how much I needed to hear that. It’s not like I doubted her... it’s more like I doubted me. Like I’m always on the verge of messing this up, of asking too much, needing too much.

Her hand moves to my chest, resting over my heart. “You don’t always have to be strong,” she whispers. “I can be strong for you too. Sometimes, a negative multiplied by a negative always makes a positive... or something, so I guess we can’t lose here.”

I can’t help but huff out a laugh at her weak analogy, and it breaks the tension just a little. But she’s right. We balance each other out, somehow, even when everything feels like it’s falling apart. 

I reach up, cupping her face gently. There’s a vulnerability between us tonight, and it feels fragile, like we’re both holding something that could break if we push too hard. I lean in, pressing a soft, careful kiss to her lips, testing the waters. She kisses me back just as softly, her lips warm against mine.

It’s slow, almost tentative, like we’re relearning each other after everything. The kiss deepens, gradually, but there’s no rush, no urgency. Just us, taking our time, grounding ourselves in this moment.

When we finally pull apart, our foreheads still touching, I feel a little steadier. A little more... whole. And as I hold her close, I know that no matter how messy it gets, no matter how many times we fall apart, we’ll always find our way back to this. To each other.

I don’t need to say it. She knows.

Chapter Text

When I wake up again, it's to the pale light of morning creeping in through the curtains. The house is still quiet, and beside me, Ruby is curled up, her back warm against my chest, her breathing steady. I pull her a little closer, burying my face in her hair, not quite ready to leave the softness of the moment. The warmth of the blanket, the weight of her body next to mine—it feels like the safest place in the world.

Her skin is smooth under my fingertips as I let my hand wander, slow and lazy, tracing the curve of her side, down to her waist. There’s no rush this morning, just a comfortable silence between us. She shifts slightly, her body pressing into mine, and I feel her hand rest over mine, holding it there.

"Morning," she murmurs, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," I whisper back, kissing the back of her neck. We lie there for a while, neither of us in a hurry to get up. The warmth of the bed, the quiet of the house—it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist right now.

We don’t need to speak at first. Just being close, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing, is enough. But eventually, she turns in my arms to face me, her eyes meeting mine, and I know the silence can't hold forever.

I hesitate, my hand still resting on her waist. "I feel…broken." The words come out softer than I expect, but I don’t pull back. I can’t. Not from her. "I don’t know how else to say it. Some days, I just feel… like I can’t fix this. Like I can’t fix me."

Her eyes stay on mine, steady and sure. "You don’t have to fix yourself, James. I’m not asking you to."

I feel a lump rise in my throat, and I swallow hard. "But what if I can’t be…me again? What if this—what happened—it just stays with me, and I never—" 

"Then we deal with it," she interrupts gently, her hand moving up to cup my cheek. "You don’t have to be anyone else. Not for me, not for anyone. We can figure it out together. You’re perfect. Just as you are. I just want you to hurt less. That’s all.“

Her words settle over me like the blanket draped across us, warm and grounding. I’ve been carrying this fear that everything will fall apart, that the pieces of me won’t come back together. But here, in this bed, with her so close, it doesn’t feel as terrifying. I’m not okay, but maybe I don’t have to be—at least not right now.

"I’m still me, right?" I ask, my voice quieter now, like I’m admitting a secret I didn’t even know I had.

"Yes," she says simply. "You’re still you."

I close my eyes, pulling her even closer, resting my forehead against hers. Holding her like this, it feels like something I can count on, something that hasn’t changed. Her body against mine, the way she fits here, it still feels right. Even after everything.

"I love you," I whisper, needing her to know that I haven’t lost that either.

"I love you too," she says, her lips brushing softly against mine. And just like that, the world feels a little less heavy.

We stay like that, wrapped in each other, the morning stretching on in quiet, gentle moments. There’s no rush to get up, no weight pressing down on us right now. Just her, just me, and the simple fact that we're still here, still holding on.

At some point I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got to get up. Breakfast doesn’t make itself. My turn today. Unfortunately.“

She lets out a soft groan but doesn’t let go. “Five more minutes,” she whispers.

I chuckle, but I don’t argue. Five more minutes of this feels like a luxury. Her body is warm and soft against mine, and I feel grounded here, with her. But eventually, I ease away, untangling myself gently so I don’t jostle her.

When I finally make my way downstairs, the house is still quiet, like everyone’s moving at their own slow pace this morning. The kitchen feels calm, the sunlight filtering through the windows casting a soft glow over everything. I take a deep breath, half-expecting some kind of shift, like maybe they’ll treat me differently today after everything that came out yesterday. But as I start gathering ingredients, there’s nothing. Just the usual quiet hum of the Bell household on a Sunday morning.

I get to work, making sure not to burn anything—no need to add any disasters to the day. I manage a decent breakfast without incident, which feels like a small victory in itself.

Ember comes into the kitchen first, her hair a bit wild from sleep, and slumps at the table. She grins at me, still half-asleep. “Smells good. You didn’t burn the toast this time?”

“Not yet,” I say, flipping the last pancake.

She laughs, then, out of nowhere, asks, “Can you help me with my chemistry homework later? I’m stuck on this one section.”

I blink, surprised at how normal it all feels. Like nothing has changed. “Yeah, of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

As I set the plates down, Angus rolls  in, reaching for the coffee pot. “Morning,” he grumbles, and then casually, “James, any chance you could pick me up from the doctor in Pemwick tomorrow afternoon? Helen needs the car.”

I pause, the spatula halfway to the stove, and glance over at him. “Uh, yeah, sure. No problem.”

He nods, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and pours his coffee, and then rolls over to the table.

The sense of relief that washes over me is unexpected. I was bracing for something—pitying looks, careful words, maybe even avoidance—but none of that comes. It’s just a normal Sunday, and that feels like a gift in itself.

Ruby comes down a bit later, hair tied up in a messy bun, carrying her laptop and notebooks. She gives me a sleepy smile and kisses my cheek as she sits down. “I’m making a reading list for our history exam,” she says, already focused on her work. “French Revolution today.”

“I can‘t wait, let them eat cake,“ I mutter, earning a playful kick under the table.

Just after breakfast, Alistair shows up, ready for a run. We head out for a couple of miles, nothing too intense, just enough to clear my head and get some fresh air. By the time we get back, I’m feeling more settled, the nervous energy from earlier draining away.

The rest of the morning slips by like any other Sunday—Ruby and I dive into her studies, Ember pulls me into her chemistry problems, Angus disappears with the newspaper, and Helen fusses around the house, keeping everyone on track. 

There’s no drama, no tension. Just the simple rhythm of life, of family. And for once, I let myself relax into it. I don’t know how long this will last, but for now, it’s enough. Just a normal Sunday. Quite a good one actually. 

Because: Who knew French Revolution could be such a turn on?

When I sit and try to learn alongside Ruby after my run her pacing is driving me up the wall. She’s been at it for hours now, mumbling to herself about the French Revolution, something about Robespierre and guillotines. I’ve tried to focus on my own notes, but honestly, my brain is fried. I’m tired, and I don’t care as much as I should about these exams. Not like Ruby does. She’s been stressing about them for weeks, even though she’s the smartest person I know. I watch her, the way her hands shake a little as she turns the pages of her textbook, her brow furrowed in that way that means she’s way too far gone in her own head.

I sigh, leaning back against the bed. We’ve been at this all day now, studying through dinner and beyond. I close my eyes for a second, but when I open them, she’s still pacing. Her lips are moving, whispering facts to herself, and I can see the tension rolling off her in waves.

“Ruby,” I call out, but she doesn’t hear me. Too wrapped up in her anxiety. “Ruby,” I say again, louder this time.

She looks at me, blinking like she’s just realized I’m in the room. “What?”

“Come here.”

“I can’t. I need to—”

“You need to stop for a second.” I pat the bed beside me. “Come on. I’m serious.”

She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip like she’s weighing whether she has time to take a break. I can tell she’s about to refuse, so I grab her hand, gently pulling her toward the bed.

“James, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” I pull her down, positioning her so she’s sitting in front of me on the bed. “Turn around.”

She gives me a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.” I smile at her, soft but insistent. “Trust me.” That always gets her.

She turns, sitting cross-legged in front of me, and I place my hands on her shoulders. I start slow, massaging the knots I can feel under her skin, her muscles tight and tense. The moment my fingers dig in, I feel her exhale, just a small release of breath, but enough to know this is working.

“That’s it,” I whisper. “Relax. You’ve got this.”

I keep working her shoulders, moving up to her neck, then down her back. Slowly, I feel her body melt under my touch, her breathing becoming deeper, steadier. She leans into me, her back resting against my chest, and I keep whispering random history facts I half-remember from our study sessions.

“Did you know Robespierre was terrified of being assassinated?” I murmur against her ear. “They say he always had guards stationed outside his room at night.”

She snorts softly. “You’re making that up.”

“Maybe. But you’ll never forget it now, will you?”

I feel her smile against me, and I know I’m getting through. I keep massaging her shoulders, my hands moving lower, tracing the curve of her spine. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and I kiss her temple, feeling her relax even more.

“Better?” I ask.

“Much,” she whispers.

My hands move lower, and I feel her shift against me, her breath catching slightly. I’m still tired, but I’m not stopping now. 

As I keep working the tension out of Ruby's shoulders, I can feel her melting into my touch. Her body starts to relax in a way that’s more than just about easing stress—it’s something else. Something familiar. And something I know she needs right now. I shift my hands lower, under the edge of her shirt, fingertips grazing the soft skin of her back.

“James…” she murmurs, almost like a warning, but there's no real resistance there. Just the usual teasing edge in her voice.

“Mmm?” I lean down, kissing the spot just below her ear, my hands slipping beneath her shirt as I ease it up. “You need a full release to really learn anything about the French Revolution. It's practically a requirement.”

She snorts, but doesn’t stop me. Instead, she lifts her arms, letting me tug her shirt off. “Oh, is that how it works?”

“Obviously,” I whisper, moving my lips lower, trailing them down her neck, over her collarbone. “If you want to remember anything about Robespierre, or the reign of terror, you’ve got to fully relax first.”

“Is that your excuse?”

“I don’t need one. You’re the one pacing like Marie Antoinette waiting for the blade to drop.”

Ruby twists around, narrowing her eyes at me even as she helps me slip her bra off. “Please don’t make Marie Antoinette jokes while you're trying to seduce me.”

“Oh, so we’re at the seducing stage? Noted.”

She swats at my shoulder, but her laugh slips out, the sound vibrating between us as I slide my hands over her bare skin. I can’t help grinning as I lean down, pressing kisses across her chest, taking my time. “You know she never actually said ‘Let them eat cake,’ right?”

“James…”

“It was all propaganda. The poor woman got a bad rap. But, I mean, she did kinda deserve it.”

“James,” Ruby groans, shifting underneath me, and I can tell she’s both amused and exasperated. “Shut up.”

“But I’m giving you historical context. You’re going to remember this stuff forever now.” I grin, dragging my lips lower, kissing down her stomach as my fingers hook into her waistband, tugging her pants off. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”

“Thoroughly annoying,” she mutters, but I can see the way her body responds to me, her breath hitching as I work my way down, taking my time, teasing her until she’s squirming beneath me.

“Really? Because it seems like you’re enjoying my little history lesson,” I say, pulling her hips towards me. I pause, looking up at her with a grin. “You know, maybe if Marie Antoinette had just relaxed a little more…”

Ruby glares at me, though her lips curve into a smile. “James, if you don’t shut up right now, I swear—”

I don’t let her finish. Instead, I pull her down, slipping into her in one smooth motion, and her sharp intake of breath tells me all I need to know. My hands grip her hips, steady but firm, as I start to move slowly, savoring the feel of her.

Her hands come up to tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to remind me she’s still irritated, even as her body responds to mine. “I’m going to kill you,” she whispers, though there’s no heat behind her words. Just a breathless laugh, her head falling back as I set a slow, steady rhythm.

“Not before you pass your exams,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her neck as I thrust deeper, drawing out a soft moan from her. “Think of it as the best history lesson you’ll ever get.”

“Or the worst,” she gasps, arching into me, her hands gripping my shoulders as I press her down into the bed, my movements still slow, deliberate. “Oh my God, James…”

I grin against her skin, kissing the spot just below her ear. “What was that? Want me to give you more facts about the French monarchy?”

She lets out a soft curse, her body tightening around me as I continue to move, slow but relentless, her breath coming faster with each thrust. “If you don’t stop talking about Marie Antoinette, I swear to God—”

“Fine, fine,” I laugh, my hands sliding down to grip her hips as I pick up the pace, her body arching into mine with every movement. “No more history lessons.”

But it’s too late. Ruby’s breathless, her moans spilling into the air between us as we move together, and even though I know she hates it when I make stupid jokes at moments like this, I also know she loves me for it. Because it’s us. It’s always been us.

And right now, there’s nothing else but this. The two of us, tangled up in each other, in our own little world where nothing else matters.

Chapter Text

I watch her across the room, the way the sunlight hits her hair, making her look almost too peaceful for everything we've been through. She’s reading, lost in her thoughts, and I know I should probably leave her alone, let her finish whatever she’s working on. But there’s this idea that’s been nagging at me for a while now, and I need to say it before I chicken out.

It’s ridiculous that I’m nervous about this. She held me through panic attacks, I’ve slept next to her more nights than I can count, but the idea of asking her on a proper date? Yeah, that’s making me sweat. I rub the back of my neck and take a breath.

“Hey, Ruby?” My voice sounds more tentative than I meant it to.

She looks up, her eyes warm and curious, and I instantly feel stupid for being so anxious. “Yeah?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, suddenly very aware of how uncoordinated I feel. “So, uh... I’ve been thinking.”

She closes her book, giving me her full attention now, and I swallow, my throat feeling tight. “We’ve never actually... gone on a date. Like, a real one.”

She raises an eyebrow, a soft smile playing on her lips. “We’ve kind of skipped a few steps, haven’t we?” There’s humor in her tone, but it’s gentle, not mocking.

I chuckle nervously, scratching the back of my neck again. “Yeah, just a few. But I... I want to take you on one. A real date. Like, dinner and... normal stuff.” I feel a flush creep up my neck, realizing how ridiculous this sounds after everything we’ve been through. “It’s just... we never really had that, you know?”

Ruby’s smile widens, and she stands up, crossing the room to me. “James Beaufort,” she says, resting her arms around my neck, “are you asking me out?”

I feel my face heat up. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended. “I guess I am. I know it’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid,” she cuts me off, her voice soft but firm. “I think it’s sweet. And yes, I would love to go on a date with you.”

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, relief and something warmer washing over me. “Really?”

She grins. “Really. You don’t have to get all shy about it. Though, for the record, I kind of like it.”

I laugh, pulling her closer. “Well, I’m glad one of us enjoys it.”

She leans into me, resting her head on my chest. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to pick me up from my parents’ house like a real gentleman?” There’s a teasing edge in her voice.

I roll my eyes, smiling. “Yeah, I’ll ring the doorbell, maybe even bring you flowers.”

“Well, you brought me flowers, but only once”, she teases, looking up at me with a playful glint in her eye.

“Hey, it’s a date. I’ve got to do it right,” I reply, feeling lighter already, the nervousness melting into something more familiar, more us.

She kisses me softly, and as she pulls back, I can see the warmth in her eyes, the kind of warmth that makes all of this feel real. “Friday night, then?” she asks, still smiling.

“Friday night,” I confirm, feeling that same warmth spread through me. “It’s a date.”

And just like that, we’re doing something normal. Something that feels right. Something for us.

———

I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting my collar for the third time, trying to will my reflection into something more confident. It feels ridiculous that after nearly five months of being together, I’m still nervous about taking Ruby out on a proper date. Sure, we’ve spent countless nights together, but this feels different. I mean, I sleep in her bed every night. But tonight, I want it to be normal - and that makes it special.

Glancing at the clock, I take a deep breath, shaking off the doubt. The plan is simple: dinner at that cozy Thai place Ruby loves, then a movie—No Time to Die. The thought of watching Bond in action with her makes me grin. But RomCom isn’t Ruby. So —Bond.

When she steps down the stairs, my heart skips a beat. She’s wearing that dress that always seems to dance around her as she moves, her hair falling over her shoulders. “Hey,” I kiss her cheek, “you look amazing!” I say, hoping my voice carries more confidence than I feel.

“Thanks! You look pretty good yourself,” she replies, and I can’t help but grin.

As we head out the door, I reach for her hand, the warmth of her skin against mine sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The early spring air is crisp, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh rain hanging in the atmosphere. It’s the kind of evening that feels alive, filled with the promise of new beginnings.

When we stroll through the familiar streets in Pemwick, our conversation’s flowing effortlessly. “So, who do you think is going to survive the spiciest dish tonight?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll have you know I can handle my spice,” Ruby retorts, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But if you want to challenge me, I’m up for it.”

“Oh, please. I’ll out-spice you any day,” I say, grinning. “What’s a little heat between friends?”

As we walk into the restaurant, I steal glances at her, feeling giddy with excitement. The restaurant is warm and inviting, the aromas wafting from the kitchen only heightening my anticipation. We share plates of spicy noodles and curry, laughing as we dig in.

“Are you sure you can handle that?” I tease, watching her take a bite of the spiciest dish on the table. 

“Bring it on!” she grins, a hint of sweat forming on her brow. “Just remember, you chose to watch James Bond instead of going for a romantic comedy with me.”

I laugh, feigning a dramatic gasp. “You mean I can’t have both?”

“Exactly! But I’m wondering why you’d choose Bond when you could be having me,” she says, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Because I can be the Bond of your dreams!” I reply, leaning back in mock arrogance. “I’ll be the suave, mysterious guy saving the day while you swoon.”

Ruby rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “Right. The only thing you’re saving is dessert for later.”

After we finish dinner, I take her hand again, feeling bolder now. The streets are alive with laughter and people enjoying an evening out as we walk to the cinema. The excitement between us is palpable, and I can’t help but steal glances at her, soaking in how beautiful she looks tonight.

Settling into the loveseat at the theater, the closeness is intoxicating. Ruby leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I glance down at her, my heart racing as the movie begins. 

Halfway through, I shift slightly, my heart full with the thought I’ve been holding in. “You know,” I start, my voice low, “I’m sorry that with everything that’s happened in my life, there hasn’t been a real time for dating. It’s just… it feels like I’ve missed out on so much with you.”

Ruby looks up, her expression softening as she whispers to me, “James, we had a lot of dates in my room when I was sick in January. Those were pretty special in their own way.” She pauses, her smile widening. “And for the rest—we’ll make up for it now.”

I chuckle, feeling warmth spread through me. “You’re right. It’s just—this feels different. I want it to be perfect.”

Ruby leans closer, her breath warm against my skin. “It already is, James. Just relax and enjoy it.”

As the film plays out, I feel a sense of serenity wash over me. I don’t need to impress her; she’s already seen the worst of me and still chooses to be here. 

When the credits roll, my heart pounds as I realize this moment feels significant. I want to kiss her, to solidify this evening as something special. My thoughts race, filled with excitement and just a hint of nerves. But I can’t let this moment pass.

“Hey, I had an amazing time tonight,” I whisper, my voice low.

“Me too. This was perfect,” she replies, her eyes meeting mine, and I see that same spark reflecting back.

I lean in, capturing her lips with mine in a soft kiss that feels like it was meant to happen all along. It’s sweet and tender, and as I pull away, I see the surprise and delight in her expression.

“Wow,” I breathe out, feeling exhilarated.

“Wow,” she echoes, a grin spreading across her face. “What was that for?”

“For being you,” I reply, my heart swelling with affection. “For being here with me.”

As we leave the theater, I feel lighter, the nerves I had earlier now replaced with a warmth I can’t shake. Holding her hand, I know that this date, this night, is a turning point. It’s not just about the dinner and the movie; it’s about what we’re building together. I squeeze her hand, feeling grateful for the journey that brought us here and excited for whatever comes next.

———-

As we drive home, the moonlight dances on the road ahead, casting a silver glow through the windshield. Ruby and I steal glances at each other, the thrill of the night still buzzing between us. My heart races not just from the excitement of the date, but from the way she looks at me, like I’m the only person in the world.

I know I should probably keep my eyes on the road, but it’s hard to resist the urge to reach over and take her hand. She’s been my anchor these past few months, and every little moment we share feels monumental. 

“Hey,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence as I pull off the main road. “You remember that spot near Helston? The one we used to go to back in the winter?” 

Her eyes light up, and a smile breaks across her face. “Of course. Just us, the stars, and the sound of the leaves.”

“Exactly. I thought we could stop for a little privacy,” I suggest, my heart quickening at the thought of having her alone, even for a few moments.

“James, you know I love that idea,” she replies, a hint of mischief in her tone. “But you have to know.. I have a line I don’t want to cross tonight.”

Her words hit me like a quiet reminder of the space that’s sometimes still between us, a space I put there with the lie I told her. My heart sinks a little, knowing this isn't just about tonight—it’s about trust, and the uncertainty that still lingers somewhere in the background because of me. I nod, keeping my voice steady, but soft enough to show her I understand. “You always set the line, Ruby. I hope you know that.” I glance over, my hand resting gently on her arm. “I just want to be a little closer to you. But whatever you need... I’m here.”

As we settle into the backseat, Ruby leans against me, her warmth sinking into my skin. I want to ask her about the line she mentioned earlier. I need to understand. I turn slightly to face her, my hand gently resting on her arm. 

“Okay, so... what’s this line you don’t want to cross tonight?” I ask, my voice soft, not wanting to pressure her, just genuinely curious. „Just to make sure I know what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.“

She looks down at her hands, taking a moment before responding. “It’s... well, you know how we joke about the car sex thing,” she says, her lips curling into a small smile. “But tonight... I don’t want that.”

“That’s okay, Ruby. I wouldn’t spring that on you just out of nowhere. But do you want to tell me why?” I ask, not to push, but because I want to know what’s going on inside her head.

She takes a deep breath, meeting my eyes, and I can see the honesty behind her words. “It’s hard to explain, but... after everything that happened between us—the lies, the way you kept things from me, the way we’re still trying to navigate what’s going on—I’m still struggling. I trust you, James, but I need to feel safe... secure. And right now, that means being with you in a space that doesn’t make me feel... vulnerable in a way I’m not ready for. I don't want us to take on even more. I don't know if I'd feel good about it... truly right... and I don't want us to have to deal with that too."

Her words hit me hard, in a way I wasn’t fully expecting. She’s not talking about physical safety, but something deeper—emotional safety. And she still hasn’t gotten it back. And I know exactly what she’s talking about, because I’m the reason she’s still struggling. The lies, the secrets. I can still see the hurt in her eyes from when everything came crashing down. With everything that's happened to me in the past few days, I tend to push it aside sometimes. And that’s not fair.

“That’s on me,” I say quietly, guilt washing over me. “I know I messed up, and I hate that it still weighs on you. But I’m grateful you’re telling me this. I’m sorry for not asking you, I don’t know..sooner. You told me, but then..with everything going on..it was again just about me..I’m sorry, Ruby. Really sorry.”

She looks at me, her gaze softening. “I love you, James. And I want to be close to you. But I need to feel like we’re building trust again. And we do. Every day. I’m just not ready to experiment or push boundaries, not yet. Not until I know that when I’m with you, it’s always going to feel safe and we won’t have to deal with more emotional turmoil afterwards.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I get it, Ruby. I really do. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I don’t need car sex, or any of that, if it doesn’t feel right for you. All I need is you . Right here, like this.”

She smiles, and I can feel some of the tension ease between us. “You don’t have to spend your life making it up to me,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “We’re here now, and we’re figuring it out. That’s what matters.”

I reach up to cup her face, brushing a thumb gently across her cheek. “You’re everything to me, Ruby. And I’ll always make sure you feel safe with me. Always.”

I lean in, brushing my lips against hers, slow and soft at first, testing the waters. She melts into me, responding with that warmth I crave, and soon the kiss deepens. I move my hand up to cradle the back of her neck, careful to keep it gentle, like she needs. I can feel her smiling against my lips, and it spurs me on.

But as my hand trails down her back, I pause, pulling away just slightly to search her face. “This okay?” I ask, my voice low but steady.

She holds my gaze, her lips quirking into a teasing smile that breaks the heaviness of the moment. “Well, let’s start with those kisses that make me swoon, James Beaufort. And if you kiss me long enough, you might even be allowed to slip your hands under my dress.”

I let out a surprised laugh, the tension between us easing. “Is that so?”

She nods, her eyes sparkling. “Mmhmm. But you’ve gotta earn it.”

“Oh, trust me,” I whisper, leaning in, “I’m up for the challenge.”

I dip my head to kiss her again, taking her words to heart. My hand moves to the hem of her dress, but I stop, resting it there. “Tell me when.”

She lets out a breath, then whispers, “Now.”

I slip my hand beneath the fabric, fingers grazing her bare skin, and she shivers in my arms, pulling me closer. “This is nice,” she says softly, almost a whisper. “But just here.”

“Just here,” I repeat, kissing her again, slower this time, feeling her relax further into me.

We stay like that, wrapped up in each other, kisses turning slower, more deliberate. My hands stay where they are, my thumbs brushing over soft skin, and though my body is screaming to push further, I know this is the line she’s drawn, and I won’t cross it. I don’t need to. 

She breaks the kiss, her forehead resting against mine. “I feel safe with you, James,” she says quietly. “Here and now. That’s what matters.”

Hearing her say that? It feels like the world falls back into place. I press a soft kiss to her temple. “I’ll always make sure of it,” I murmur, fingers tracing light patterns on her back. “I’ll wait for it as long as you need. You know that, right?”

She leans into me, her breath warm against my neck. “I know. And I’m so glad we’re doing this, on our own terms.”

I can’t help but smile. “Same.” I pause for a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a little more relaxed now that we’ve talked through it. “And just so you know… I think we’ll have plenty of time for everything else, yeah?”

She laughs softly, her breath mixing with mine. “Yeah,” she says, and then with a teasing grin, “You’re doing a great job of earning your way under my dress, Beaufort.”

I laugh too, pulling her closer, and as we sit there in the backseat, tangled together, I realize just how much more this closeness means to me than anything physical ever could. And she knows it too.

Later that night, after we’ve both showered and changed into something more comfortable, we settle into bed. It’s quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that usually helps me fall asleep almost instantly, but tonight my mind is buzzing with thoughts I can’t shake. Ruby is next to me, her breathing soft and steady, and I can’t help but glance over at her.

I want to say something, but I don’t want to break the calm of the moment. Still, her words from earlier keep replaying in my head— I feel safe with you, James —and there’s a weight to it that I can’t ignore. I turn to her, propping myself up on one elbow, my voice low, careful not to disturb the quiet too much.

“Ruby?” I murmur.

She hums softly, already halfway to sleep, but she shifts slightly to look at me. “Hmm?”

I hesitate for a second, not wanting to overthink it, but the words come out anyway. “When you said… earlier, about feeling safe with me. It got me thinking.”

She blinks a few times, more awake now, her gaze curious but calm. “What about?”

“I guess…” I trail off, trying to find the right way to phrase it. “I just want to make sure that I’m not making things harder for you. That I’m not adding to the stuff you’re still working through.”

Her brow furrows slightly, and she shifts to face me, propping herself up on her elbow too. “James, you’re not.”

I sigh, brushing a hand through my hair. “I know, but… you said you’re still struggling with what happened, with me lying to you. And I get it, I do. I just… I want to be sure I’m doing right by you. That I’m not pushing you before you’re ready.”

She’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over, and I can see the gears turning in her head. Then she reaches out, placing her hand on my chest, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re not pushing me,” she says softly, her voice steady. “You’ve been patient, James. More than that, you’ve listened. You’ve made sure I’m comfortable, that I feel secure. And I do. Even when things were really hard… I still felt like you were the one place I could breathe.”

Her words hit me in a way I don’t expect, like a knot in my chest loosening. I reach up to cover her hand with mine, grateful for her honesty. “I just want to make sure I’m not messing it up again. You know?”

She smiles, small but sincere, and shakes her head. “You’re not messing up, love. We’re still figuring this out, yeah, but you’re doing everything right.” Then, after a pause, she adds, “And if something feels off, I’ll tell you. Just like tonight.”

I nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. “Good. I want you to tell me. Always. Let’s not lose that.”

She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, and when she pulls back, her voice is lighter, teasing. “Now stop overthinking and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another day for you to charm me senseless.”

I laugh softly, settling back against the pillow, pulling her closer until she’s tucked against my side. “Deal,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head. “But you’ve got it wrong, Ruby. You’re the one who does the charming around here.”

She snorts softly, and I can feel her smiling against me. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, love,” I whisper, holding her close as sleep finally starts to pull me under, the weight of the conversation lifting as I drift off.

Alistair

I’ve always been good at picking up on things, especially when it comes to James. Maybe it’s because we’ve known each other for so long, but I can tell when something’s off with him. Today is no different.

We’ve just finished our run—well, I finished a run; James left me in the dust about five minutes in, as per usual. But now we’re back at my place, stretching out on the patio, enjoying the cool morning air, and there’s this tension in him that I can’t ignore. He’s carrying something heavy, even if he’s pretending not to.

“So,” I start casually, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my shirt, “how’s Ruby? I haven’t really talked to her in a bit. She good?”

James glances at me, then back down at his shoes as he fiddles with the laces. “Yeah, she’s good. Doing fine.”

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for more, but of course, he’s not giving me anything. Typical. I grab a bottle of water and sit down on one of the deck chairs, watching him with a knowing look. “Really? ‘Cause from what I’ve seen, she doesn’t quite look like herself lately. And neither do you, for that matter.”

He tenses slightly but shrugs, still avoiding eye contact. “We’re fine, Al. Seriously.”

“Uh-huh.” I take a sip of water, knowing this is going to take a bit more effort. James can be a stubborn one, especially when it comes to his feelings. “Come on, mate. You’re not exactly the poster child for ‘fine’ right now. I can feel the angst radiating off you from here. What’s going on?”

James lets out a sigh, finally sitting down across from me. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s nothing, really. Just… you know, stuff.”

“Ah yes, stuff ,” I say, nodding seriously. “The universal sign for ‘I don’t want to talk about it but definitely need to.’ So, spill.”

He shoots me a look, half amused, half annoyed. “It’s not a big deal, Al. We had a date yesterday, alright? Dinner, movie, the works. It was good.”

I lean back, raising my eyebrows. “Oh, a date! Fancy. How romantic.”

James rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile there, too. “Yeah, well, it was about time, wasn’t it? We haven’t really done the whole ‘date’ thing, so I wanted to take her out.”

“So far, this sounds great. Where’s the heaviness coming from, then? Did you ruin the night with your sparkling conversation skills or what?”

He snorts but then grows quieter, his gaze dropping to the floor. “No, it wasn’t that. The night was good. We had fun, you know, just… being together. But things got a bit… complicated afterward.”

I nod, not pressing him too hard but still keeping the door open. “Complicated how?”

James shifts in his seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “We stopped at this spot on the way back. Somewhere we used to go sometimes, for, well, privacy. It was… well, it started out like it used to, just us, you know, kissing, talking. But she told me there was a line she didn’t want to cross.”

He’s choosing his words carefully, and I appreciate that. I don’t need or want details—this is more about what’s going on inside his head than anything else.

“And that’s bothering you?” I ask, gently probing.

“No,” he says quickly. “Not really. I mean, I get it. I completely respect it. She was really honest with me, said it’s not that she doesn’t feel safe with me, but after everything that happened—after I lied to her—it’s not as simple for her anymore. She wants to feel secure, and I guess… experimenting, doing things outside that comfort zone, isn’t really where she’s at.”

I watch him carefully as he says this. There’s no resentment in his voice, which is good. But there’s definitely something weighing on him. “And you’re okay with that, right?”

“Of course I am,” he says, a little too quickly. “I want her to feel safe. I don’t need all the rest of it. I just want to be close to her, whatever that means. But…”

I nod, waiting for him to finish.

“But it’s hard sometimes, you know?” He leans back in the chair, running a hand through his hair. “Knowing that I’m the reason she feels like she has to hold back. That’s on me, and it sucks. I’m trying to make up for it, and she’s amazing, but… yeah. It’s just hard.”

I sit with that for a moment, not sure what to say right away. I mean, what can you say to something like that? He’s right—it is hard. And James has always been the kind of guy who shoulders guilt like it’s a damn second skin.

“You know, James,” I say slowly, “she’s with you because she wants to be. And from what you’re telling me, she’s being really open with you, which is a big deal. She’s not shutting you out, even if she’s taking things slow. That’s a good sign.”

“I know,” he says, sighing again. “I just… I hate that I hurt her. And even though we’re good now, I feel like there’s always this shadow, you know?”

I get it. I really do. It’s the kind of thing that lingers, even when everything seems fine on the surface. “It’s not going to go away overnight,” I tell him, leaning forward a bit. “But the fact that you’re even thinking about this, trying to do right by her, shows how much you’ve changed, James. You’re not that guy anymore.”

He gives me a sideways glance, his expression softening. “You think?”

“Yeah,” I say with a grin. “I mean, you’re still a pain in my ass, but you’ve grown up. And Ruby clearly sees that. Otherwise, she wouldn’t still be here, would she?”

He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

“And as for the other stuff,” I continue, smirking now, “mate, if you’re gonna owe her car sex forever, that’s not the worst thing in the world. Gives you something to work toward.”

He groans, but there’s a smile on his face, and I know I’ve lightened the mood just a bit. “Shut up, Al.”

“Hey, I’m just saying.” I hold up my hands in mock innocence. “Sounds like you’re doing alright if that’s your biggest problem.”

He gives me a grateful look, and I know we’ve hit that point where the conversation has run its course. But I’m glad we had it. James might still carry some heaviness, but he’s not alone in it. And as much as he struggles, it’s clear to me that he’s doing his best for Ruby. That’s what matters. 

“Alright, enough of the serious stuff,” I say, standing up and grabbing the nearest football. “You ready to get your ass kicked in a real game now?”

James smirks, standing up and stretching. “In your dreams, Ellington.”

Ah, there he is. My James.

Chapter Text

Ophelia

It feels odd, almost surreal, to sit here in the Bell household. As I look around, I can’t help but absorb the warmth this place exudes. It’s modest, simple, in sharp contrast to the grand spaces I’m accustomed to. But there’s something about it—a feeling, perhaps—that I haven’t known in a long time. I can see it in the small details: the drawings on the wall, mementos of Ruby’s childhood and Ember’s too, lovingly framed as if each stroke of crayon were a masterpiece. Family photos sit on the mantle—smiling faces in sunlit fields, at picnics, celebrations—each capturing a moment of joy. 

Books and newspapers clutter the kitchen counter, a sign of a family that’s curious about the world, always reading, always learning. Even the wardrobe by the door tells a story: jackets hanging haphazardly, shoes scattered underneath, James’s Lacrosse gear slung beside a rucksack. It almost makes me smile to see a piece of tape on the letterbox outside with his name written on it. I wonder if that’s Ruby’s doing. His shoes, his presence—he belongs here, not just as a guest, but as part of their family.

And now, here I am, sitting across from Angus, the man who opened his home and heart to James in a way I never could. I’d expected kindness, of course. Ruby and Ember couldn’t be who they are without parents who embody that same gentleness. But I hadn’t expected this—this overwhelming sense of care and love that radiates from every corner of this house, from every word Angus speaks about James.

Angus is in his wheelchair, speaking with such quiet dignity about what James has been through. He doesn’t delve into detail, not about the worst of it, not about the night that still lingers between James and me like a shadow we refuse to acknowledge. But he mentions it. He speaks with restraint and respect, as though protecting James even as we talk about his pain.

"He's been... through a lot," Angus says softly, his eyes far away for a moment. "We’ve talked, here and there. Sometimes with Ruby. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell when he's carrying too much on his shoulders. He needs help, but he won’t ask for it, not directly. That’s why I wanted to speak to you."

I swallow, feeling a tightness in my chest. Of course, I’ve seen the changes in James. He’s withdrawn, quieter than usual. I’ve seen it at the lawyer meetings, the way he closes off, retreats into himself. Even when he visits Lydia, he doesn’t quite meet my eyes, as if there’s too much between us, too much left unsaid. I’ve wanted to offer help, to do more, but somehow, I didn’t. Maybe it was the distance he put between us. Maybe it was my own hesitation, my own guilt. But now, sitting here in this small, warm kitchen, I feel ashamed that I didn’t offer sooner.

"I should have done more," I murmur, more to myself than to Angus. "I should have seen what he needed."

Angus looks at me, and there’s no judgment in his gaze, only understanding. "You’re here now," he says quietly. "That’s what matters."

I nod, feeling humbled. I may come from one of the richest families in England, but sitting here, in this house filled with love and warmth, I realize how much wealth has nothing to do with money. The Bells have given James something no mansion or trust fund ever could. They’ve given him a home, a place where he’s safe, where he’s wanted. And now, it’s my turn to do my part.

"I’ll help," I say, my voice firmer now. "I’ll find him someone. Someone good."

Angus nods, and there’s a softness in his eyes that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I can help James heal. But I know it won’t be easy. James has built walls, high ones, around his heart. And though I can’t tear them down for him, I can make sure there’s someone there when he’s ready to start.

We sit for a while longer, talking quietly about James, and then somehow about this and that. Ember‘s blog, Ruby‘s and James‘s exams, how Lydia‘s doing, and I don’t even realize that it’s almost two hours since I arrived. And when I finally leave the Bell household, I feel lighter, as if I’ve finally taken a step toward helping him, toward being the aunt I should have been all along.

James

It’s a quiet afternoon, the house still, and I can hear the faint sound of Ruby tapping away at her laptop in the other room. I make my way over to where she’s sitting, a bit of nervousness stirring in my chest. I’ve been thinking about this all morning, trying to find the right words.

“Hey,” I say softly as I lean against the doorframe, my hands tucked into my pockets.

She glances up, giving me a warm smile. “Hey, what’s up?”

I shift a little, feeling like I’m about to bring up something delicate. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I wanted to see what you think.”

She closes her laptop and gives me her full attention, curiosity in her eyes. “Go on.”

I take a breath and start, careful with my words. “You know, for you, Asha is connected to that night—when I went to see Mortimer. And I realize now that I go back to those meetings every week, but for you, it’s... different. You don’t see the day-to-day stuff. I wondered if it feels strange, or like you’re disconnected from that part of my life.”

She looks at me, listening, but there’s a hint of something—maybe hesitation—on her face.

“And I thought,” I continue, “maybe it would help if you sat in on one of those meetings. Just once, to see that it’s all business now. No drama, no danger. It’s really just legal stuff—untangling everything and working on the foundation. I think it might feel different for you if you saw it. One of the meetings when he isn’t there, of course.“

She pauses for a moment, absorbing what I’ve said. “I don’t know, James... I’ve never really been part of that side of things. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“That’s okay,” I say, moving closer and sitting down across from her. “You don’t have to know everything. But I like when you’re part of this, part of all of it. Your insights are always sharp, and you see things in ways I don’t. I’d love for you to be there—helping shape what we’re doing with the foundation. Lydia will be there too, and afterward, we can all go for dinner or something.”

Ruby shifts in her seat, clearly thinking it over. “It’s just... I don’t know if that’s my place, James. I mean, your fortune, all this legal stuff—it’s never really been something we’ve talked about.”

I can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she’s weighing the idea. 

And that's exactly why I know I'm doing the right thing. If I want Ruby to feel safe with me, she needs to realize that she can be part of every aspect of my life, whenever she wants. There's nothing she can't share in.

I lean forward, my voice steady. “Your place is wherever you want it to be, Ruby. You’re not less because you didn’t grow up with money. Hell, your family showed me what really matters, what money can’t buy. This house, your life here—it’s full of things you can’t measure in wealth, and that’s something I’ve come to value more than anything.”

She smiles a little, though it’s still tentative. “I appreciate you saying that. But what if it feels too much for me? I don’t want to be stuck feeling uncomfortable.”

“If it’s not your cup of tea, no pressure,” I say gently. “You can always make up an excuse—a phone call, an appointment, whatever—and leave whenever you want. No drama. No awkwardness. I’ll see you after.”

She looks at me for a long moment, her expression softening. “Alright. I’ll give it a try. But no promises that I’ll stay the whole time.”

“That’s more than enough,” I say, relief spreading through me. “And if it doesn’t work for you, we’ll figure it out. I just want you to know you’re welcome there, always.”

She nods, her smile growing a little. “Okay. And if it’s a total disaster, you owe me a big dinner.”

I grin. “Deal. Dinner is on me either way.”

Ruby 

I’m leaning against the kitchen counter as Mom stirs something on the stove. It smells like cinnamon, probably her famous apple compote for the weekend. It’s a quiet moment, and I know now’s the right time to tell her about the weekend trip.

“So, I think James and I will go to London this weekend,” I say casually, watching for her reaction.

She doesn’t look surprised, just asks, “Friday or Saturday?”

“Friday,” I reply, feeling a little knot form in my stomach as I think about what else I need to tell her.

Mom nods, her focus still on the stove. “Lydia going too?”

“Yeah,” I say, then pause. “There’s…something else, though.”

She glances at me, eyebrow raised slightly. “What’s that?”

“Well,” I start, feeling my way through the words. “James suggested I go with him to one of his meetings. You know, the ones with Asha Desai, his lawyer. He thinks it might help me feel more connected to everything that’s going on. It’s all business now—sorting out the estate, managing assets, nothing dangerous. Mortimer won’t be there. But he wants me to be there, to understand that part of his life.”

Mom turns off the burner and gives me her full attention now. She doesn’t say anything right away, just waits for me to continue.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m not sure it’s my place. I mean, James’ wealth, all this legal stuff—it’s never been a big part of our relationship. I don’t want to feel out of place.”

She folds her arms, looking thoughtful. “I think it’s good that James is trying to take all of this mess and turn it into something meaningful. And it means something that he wants you to see that part of his world, to be there while he’s working through it.”

I nod, understanding what she’s saying, but still feeling uncertain.

“You know,” she continues, “James isn’t just your James here, at home, in this life you’ve built together. He’s also someone outside of that, with responsibilities and decisions to make. It’s important for him to share that with you, to let you into that part of his life.”

“I guess,” I say slowly. “It’s just that... I don’t know how I fit into that world. It feels strange sometimes.”

Mom gives me a small, reassuring smile. “Your life is changing, Ruby. You’ll be graduating soon, starting university. His life is changing too, and this is how it starts—learning to navigate these different parts of each other’s worlds. Don’t feel like you don’t belong just because it’s new to you. And don’t be intimidated by the money. You’re not less than him, or anyone else for that matter.”

I bite my lip, looking down for a moment. “I know. And honestly, James has made it clear he feels the same way. He always tells me that.”

Mom’s smile softens. “Good. And don’t forget, it’s about more than wealth—it’s about the kind of life you’re both building, together. James knows that. He’s trying to show you that you matter in all of it.”

I take a deep breath, feeling a little of the tension ease. “You’re right. I guess I just needed to hear it.”

Mom reaches out and gently touches my arm. “I’m glad he’s being thoughtful about it. It’s a lot to process, I’m sure. But I think you’ll handle it just fine.”

There’s a quiet pause, and then she asks, her voice soft, “Are you feeling a little lighter than you have been?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, I am. I mean, it’s still not easy, but it’s...better. James has been really supportive. I feel taken care of.”

Mom gives me a knowing look. “That’s good to hear. And remember, you don’t have to do everything at once. Just take it one step at a time.”

I smile back at her, feeling a bit more settled. “Thanks, Mom. I will.”

Helen

I sit down next to Angus, my tea warming my hands, but my mind feels far from settled. I’ve been thinking about Ruby all day, about the way she seemed when she told me she was going to London with James. 

“She’s going with him this weekend,” I start, glancing at him. “To one of his meetings, with his lawyer. She didn’t say it outright, but I could tell she’s unsure. Like she doesn’t know if she belongs there.”

Angus looks up from his book, his gaze steady. “It’s a different world for her, Helen. I’m not surprised she feels that way.”

I nod, my fingers tracing the rim of my cup. “I just... I don’t know if she’s ready for it. For that part of his life. We’ve created this bubble here, something safe. But it’s all been so fast, so intense. Sometimes I wonder if it’s too much for her, too soon.”

Angus leans back in his chair, thoughtful as ever. “I think James will do whatever he has to do to make it work for Ruby. You can see that in him.” He pauses, and I watch him closely. “And Ruby... I think she’s ready for more than she realizes. She’s strong, Helen, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

I look down at my tea, the steam curling up into the air. “But is she really? I mean, we let her apply to Maxton Hall, we opened that door. But this is different. She’s stepping into James’s world now, and that’s... It’s so much.”

Angus sets his book aside and looks me straight in the eye, his voice gentle but firm. “We knew things would change when we let her take that step. And we were right. But our job hasn’t changed, has it? We’re still here to give her and James a place to come back to, something solid when the outside world feels like too much. We’re their safe space, not more, not less.”

I sigh, leaning back against the couch, feeling the weight of it all. “Do you think they’ll last?” The question slips out before I can stop it, the uncertainty I’ve been holding in finally surfacing. “They’re so young, Angus.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just sits there, quiet as he always is when he’s thinking something through. His fingers tap lightly on the armrest before he speaks again.

“They are young,” he agrees, his voice slow and measured. “But what they have... it’s solid. That’s not something you see every day.” He glances at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And if I have any say in it, having James around is something I appreciate. He’s good for her, Helen. And she’s good for him. They balance each other.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I hope you’re right,” I whisper. “They’ve both been through so much already.”

Angus reaches over and squeezes my hand, his warmth steadying me. “I am right. And we’ll be here for them, no matter what.”

I lean into him, feeling that familiar comfort he always brings. “Yes, we will,” I say, quieter this time, but with a little more certainty.

Ruby

The sun filters through the tall windows of the law office, casting a soft glow over the polished table where I sit, quietly waiting for the meeting to start. James is beside me, and across the table is Lydia, who gives me a warm smile. Asha, the lawyer, is already sorting through a stack of papers. She’s not at all how I imagined — not the stiff, distant professional I expected, but down to earth, calm, and confident. It throws me a little, in a good way.

"Thanks for coming," Lydia says quietly as she leans toward me. "It means a lot."

I smile back at her, trying to shake off the nerves. “I’m happy to be here.”

Asha clears her throat, pulling everyone’s attention to her. “Alright, let’s get into it.” She speaks efficiently, her tone warm but focused. “Today’s agenda: the financial structure of the foundation and the transfer of Mortimer’s assets. We’ve made progress in ensuring the assets go directly into the foundation instead of to James or Lydia personally.”

James nods, his hand brushing mine briefly under the table. I feel his reassurance in that simple gesture, a silent thank-you for being here.

“The next steps,” Asha continues, “are for us to finalize the foundation’s board. Ophelia will be one of the members, as we discussed. Then Lydia and James. There are two additional spots that need to be filled by individuals you trust. James, Lydia, I assume you’re still working on who those people will be?”

Lydia speaks up, her tone calm. “Yes, we’re narrowing down our options. We want people who understand what we’re trying to do here.”

Asha nods approvingly. “Good. Now, we also need to address the parts of your personal inheritance that will go into the foundation. You’ll both retain your shares in Beaufort Holdings since those can’t be transferred out of the family, and your trust funds, but portions of your remaining inheritance will help fund the foundation’s work.”

I glance at James as he listens intently, his expression thoughtful. It’s a lot to absorb, but he’s right in the middle of it, focused on shaping something positive from the mess Mortimer left behind. It’s impressive, but it’s also a little overwhelming for me.

James is about to say something when a tjought forms at the back of my mind.  I clear my throat, deciding to jump in. “Have you thought about whether you want to be on the board or more involved in the daily operations?” I ask, glancing at him and then at Asha. “Because if you’re both on the board and also running the day-to-day work, you’d be in a position where you’d be overseeing yourselves. That might get... tricky.”

Asha’s head lifts, her eyes focusing on me. “That’s an excellent point, Ruby,” she says, looking back at James and Lydia. “It would create a conflict of interest if either of you were directly managing the operations while also being on the board.”

James looks at me, and I can tell he hadn’t fully thought about it that way. “You’re right,” he says slowly, his eyes narrowing in consideration. “I’ll need to figure out how involved I want to be in the daily business.”

Lydia nods, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. “Maybe we find someone to run the foundation and keep our roles more strategic, oversight only.”

“Exactly,” Asha agrees. “It’s essential to separate management from oversight if you want the foundation to function smoothly.”

The conversation flows naturally from there, with Lydia offering ideas on potential board members and Asha diving into more legal details. I sit back, watching them talk. It feels more like a team meeting than a formal legal discussion. Everyone is animated, even excited. I find myself chiming in more than I expected, and before I know it, nearly three hours have passed.

James leans over, giving me a sideways smile. “You alright?”

I blink, realizing how quickly the time has flown. “Yeah,” I murmur, almost surprised at how comfortable I feel. “I didn’t realize I’d be this... involved.”

“You’re not just involved,” Lydia says with a grin. “You’re part of this now, like it or not.”

I smile, feeling a little more settled. It’s still strange, stepping into this part of James’s life, but the weight of it doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

James

Dinner is at a quiet place Lydia picked. One of those tucked-away spots where the food is good, and you don’t need to shout to be heard. Ruby sits beside me, and across the table, Lydia’s with Graham, both looking relaxed. It's strange, in a good way, how different things feel compared to just a few months ago. Everything feels… like it's starting to make sense, as if the pieces are finally coming together.

Graham arrives a bit late, but he’s all smiles as he takes his seat. “Sorry I’m late,” he says, sitting down next to Lydia. “Had to finish up with some last-minute grading.”

“No worries,” Lydia says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “We didn’t start without you.”

Ruby smiles at Graham, and he returns it, pleased, I think, that she’s still on her path to Oxford. It’s clear he’s been rooting for her.

“So, how was the meeting?” Graham asks, glancing between me and Lydia, then at Ruby.

“Productive,” Lydia says, settling back in her chair. “Ruby had some good points about separating oversight and management. Got us all thinking.”

Ruby looks a bit shy at that, but I nudge her. “She’s right. I hadn’t really considered the conflict of interest before, but it’s something I need to think about.”

“And?” Ruby asks, turning to me, her eyes curious. “Have you thought about what you’d want to do?”

I exhale slowly, running my hand through my hair. “Yeah, I have. I always saw myself being more on the ground, involved in the day-to-day. I’m not sure I want to sit back and just watch it all happen.”

Lydia nods thoughtfully. “That makes sense. You’ve always been more hands-on. It’s probably where you’d be happiest.”

“I think so.” I glance at Ruby. “It’s weird though, because being part of the board still feels important. But I guess I have to choose.”

Graham cuts in. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be involved. Honestly, given everything that’s happened, it might be what you need to feel like you’re making a difference.”

I nod, knowing he’s right. “I just didn’t expect to feel this way. It’s like I’ve finally found something I can build that’s not just about surviving.”

Ruby gives me a small smile, her eyes soft. “That’s important, James.”

I take her hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. “I’m just not used to thinking about this kind of stuff. The future. What I want.”

Lydia leans forward, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. “I see myself more on the board, honestly. Once the twins are a bit older, I’ll start working for Beaufort again, but I want to keep a strategic role in the foundation. I’ve been thinking of doing a distance learning degree in economics before I fully jump in.”

“That’s amazing,” Ruby says, her tone genuine. “You’ll be great at that.”

“And the kids?” I ask, glancing at Graham. “What’s the plan?”

“We’ll share baby duties equally,” Lydia says, looking at him with a smile. “Once I move to London too, Graham will work part-time, and we’ll make it work.”

Graham nods, looking content. “Yeah, I’ll be cutting back on teaching hours. Lydia’s going to handle Beaufort and the foundation, and we’ll balance it all out.”

It’s hard not to be struck by how far we’ve all come. Sitting here, planning, imagining futures where we’re doing more than just managing trauma. For the first time in a long while, it feels like we’re creating something good from everything that happened.

“And you,” Graham says, turning to Ruby. “Oxford’s still on the horizon?”

“Definitely,” she says, her eyes brightening at the mention of it. “I’m excited. A little nervous, but mostly excited.”

“You’re going to do great,” he says. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

I feel a surge of pride for her, watching how she talks about it. This is progress for all of us, in one way or another.

Dinner carries on, the conversation flowing easily. It’s the kind of night where everything feels… possible. I catch Lydia’s eye across the table, and she smiles at me in that way only siblings can, both of us understanding just how different this all could have been.

And Ruby, sitting next to me, feels like the anchor in all of this. Her hand in mine, her voice pushing me to think beyond the immediate. Progress for all of us. For her, for me, for Lydia and Graham. And somehow, even with all the uncertainty still looming, it feels enough for now. Maybe even more than enough.

———

As we slide into the back of the taxi, Ruby leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. The city lights flash by in streaks of yellow and red, and though she’s quiet, she’s still here with me, her fingers tracing soft patterns on the back of my hand. I kiss the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.

“Two days to ourselves,” I say, keeping my voice light, trying to stir some of the ease we usually find when it’s just us.

She smiles, just a flicker of it, but enough to let me know she’s hearing me. “Finally,” she murmurs, lifting her head to meet my eyes. “No Lydia, no Graham, no Ember, no Mum and Dad. Just us.”

It’s a relief, this thought of being alone together. The day’s been long, full of talk and business and old memories, but now it’s just the two of us heading back to Ophelia’s house, where we can finally let go of everything else. For a moment, the idea of slipping into that quiet sanctuary—our own space—feels like a promise of peace.

The taxi pulls up to the house, and I get out first, offering Ruby a hand as she steps onto the pavement. She squeezes it, her thumb brushing across my knuckles, and I catch her eye again. There’s something flickering beneath the surface, something I can’t quite read yet, but I brush it off, hoping it’s just the weight of the day.

Inside, the house feels warm and familiar, a space that’s always been ours when we need it. As soon as the door clicks shut behind us, I pull her in close, hands resting on her hips. There’s this moment between us, like a shared breath after all the chaos. We don’t need words—just the feel of each other. She leans up, her lips brushing mine, and the kiss that follows is slow, deliberate. There’s a heat there, a relief in being alone, in knowing we don’t have to be anything but ourselves here.

“Mmm,” she murmurs against my mouth, a soft laugh escaping her. “I’ve missed this.”

“Two days,” I whisper back, smiling. “Just us.”

She grins, pulling me a little closer, her fingers threading into my hair. “I like the sound of that.”

The kiss deepens, and for a few minutes, it feels like everything falls into place again. But there are moments—small ones—where I catch her hesitation. The way her fingers tighten, then loosen. The way her body relaxes but doesn’t quite melt into mine like usual. It’s subtle, just these fleeting shifts in energy, but I notice. 

We finally pull apart, breathing a little heavier, and I press my forehead to hers. “You okay?” I ask, still holding her, not ready to let her go just yet.

She smiles, but there’s something behind it. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Just… I’m glad we have some time alone.”

So am I, but there’s something else lingering beneath her words. I shrug off my jacket, toss it onto the chair, and take her hand as we head upstairs. The bedroom feels like a retreat, quiet and familiar, but when we crawl into bed, something feels different.

I turn to face her, my hand resting on her hip, waiting for her to settle into my arms like she always does. But tonight, her movements are slow, her eyes distant.

“Hey,” I say gently, watching her as she stares at the ceiling. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. If something’s on your mind, we can talk.”

She shifts, turning onto her side, facing me. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a flicker of uncertainty there. “It’s just…” she begins, her voice soft, “meeting Asha and Graham today… it brought up things I didn’t expect.”

I feel my chest tighten, a knot forming as I realize where this is going. “That night,” I say quietly, not as a question, but a connection.

She nods, her expression faltering for a second. “I thought I’d buried it, James. But meeting Asha, and Graham… it just stirred it all back up. That night… those hours I didn’t know if you were okay. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I reach for her hand, pulling it gently into mine. “Maybe it’s time to tell me about it”, I try, “You don’t have to think about it alone,” I tell her, hoping I’m doing the right thing.. “We’ll go there, together.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, her breath shallow. “I don’t even know where to start,” she whispers. “It feels like there’s this wall between me and that part of me, and I’m scared to even touch it.”

And there it is. It took us weeks, months even. But now we’re here.

I pull her closer, holding her tight. “We’ll get through it,” I promise. And I mean it. But tonight, I know there’s more to be said, more to be faced. I just don’t know how far she’s ready to go.

The room feels heavy with unspoken words as Ruby nestles into my embrace, her body trembling against mine. I can feel the warmth of her skin, but the heat of her emotions is what consumes me. It’s palpable, raw, and I realize that for the first time, she’s ready to share the depth of her fear, her pain, and the suffocating anxiety that gripped her during those agonizing hours.

Am I prepared for that? I don’t know. But am I here for it? Yes. Whatever it takes. Whatever she needs.

“James,” she begins, her voice trembling. “It was that moment.. when we got the call from Asha.” Her breath catches, and I can sense the tension in her body as she begins to relive the moment. “When she said she wasn’t with you, when I knew that you went to confront Mortimer alone, it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. I had this awful, gnawing feeling that something terrible was going to happen.”

I stay silent, allowing her to find her rhythm, my fingers brushing her hair back as I listen intently. I want to hold her, to shield her from the pain of those memories, but I know I can’t. This is her journey, and I’m here to bear witness.

“I thought, ‘Why would you do something so reckless?’” she continues, tears glistening in her eyes. “I felt so angry at you for putting yourself in danger, but that anger was so twisted because I was terrified of what that could mean. And I knew you probably had your reasons, that you weren’t just reckless and naïv. That you saw no other way. And then… then you sent me that text.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. “At 6:45,” she whispers, and I can hear the tremor in her voice. “It said, ‘Wish me luck, I’ll always love you.’” She pauses, the weight of the memory crashing down on us both. “I read it over and over, and I felt this strange mix of hope and dread. It was like a warning and a blessing all at once, and I didn’t know which one to choose.”

I swallow hard, feeling the anguish seep into my own heart. “You didn’t know if I was coming back,” I say softly, wishing I could erase that moment for her.

“No,” she says, shaking her head as tears spill down her cheeks. “When there was nothing after ten minutes later, fifteen minutes later, half an hour later, I kept thinking, ‘This is it. This is how it ends.’ The minutes started to stretch out, and I was sitting there with Lydia, Ophelia, and Graham, but I felt completely alone. Alistair wasn’t answering his phone, I wasn’t even trying to call him, I think Lydia did, and every time she tried, it felt like I was screaming into the void.”

I hold her tighter, feeling her pain wash over me like a storm. The torment in her eyes is haunting, and I wish I could pull her away from it, but I know she needs to say this, to truly let it out.

“I could hear the clock ticking in that big house, and every tick felt like a countdown,” she continues, her voice cracking. “It was like a clock counting down to something I didn’t want to face. I remember thinking that I should be grateful for every minute I didn’t know what was happening because knowing would mean someone was calling to tell me you were gone.”

I flinch at her words, the truth of what she experienced hitting me like a blow. “I’m so sorry, Ruby,” I murmur, my heart aching for the torment I caused her.

“Every minute stretched out like hours,” she recalls, her breathing shaky as she clings to me. “It was unbearable, James. I felt this growing pit of dread in my stomach, and I couldn’t breathe. I thought, ‘If something has happened to him, how will I live with myself?’”

“I never wanted you to feel like that,” I say, my voice filled with regret. “I didn’t think…I didn’t think Asha would call you. I didn’t know you would know before I was with you. Had I known..I don’t know..but I’m not gonna lie: I didn’t consider how it would affect you. I just wanted to confront Mortimer. I had to.”

“I know you did,” she replies, her voice still trembling. “But I was so scared, James. I kept imagining the worst. What if you weren’t coming back? What if I had to live with that knowledge? It was like drowning in fear, and I couldn’t find my way to the surface.”

Her eyes are wild with emotion, and I’m overwhelmed by the sheer force of her pain. It’s an emotional wringer, and I’m doing my best to hold it together for her. “You’re safe now,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. “I’m right here. You don’t have to relive this alone.”

“I thought I would never see you again,” she says, her voice breaking again as the tears pour down her cheeks. “When the clock struck ten, I felt this suffocating sense of panic. I kept replaying everything in my mind—every word you said to me, every moment we shared. And I just wanted to hold on to those memories because I didn’t know if I’d ever get to make more.”

I can feel the weight of her words sinking into me, each one a dagger piercing through the layers of my heart. “I am so sorry,” I say, my throat tight with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you like this.”

“And then Alistair finally showed up,” she continues, her voice shaky but resolute. “And you. But you were so — not you. I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t do anything but watch as you were in so much pain and so lost. I felt so powerless.”

“Ruby,” I whisper, the pain in her voice cutting through me like glass. “You were never powerless. You’ve always been strong, even when you felt like you were breaking. You held on when I couldn’t.”

“I was so afraid, James,” she continues, the words pouring out of her like a dam breaking. “I didn’t know how you were going to make it through that night. I’m eighteen and how should I know any of this? And the anger… it was suffocating. I just wanted to scream and hit something, to make it all go away. And then, when you finally woke up… all I could think about was how grateful I was, but it was wrapped up in so much fear. And so much anger. Because you gave me no choice. You gave me no choice. You used me and my love and trust.”

“God, Ruby — I..”, and then nothing. Because, honestly, what could I say? What I can do, is to hold her and listen.

“And I don’t feel strong,” she admits, her voice trembling. “I feel so weak, so fragile. I thought I’d lost you before I even had a chance to say goodbye. And it hurts, James. It hurts so much.”

I hold her tighter, feeling the tremors of her body against mine. This isn’t just about my trauma; it’s about hers, too. The realization sinks in, heavy and painful. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own recovery that I didn’t see how deeply the shadows of that night had seeped into her.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” I murmur into her hair, the scent of her calming me even as I feel my heart breaking for what she’s been through. “I didn’t mean to put you through that fear. You didn’t deserve it.”

As I cradle her in my arms, I feel the heat of her tears soaking into my chest. “You’re not alone in this,” I whisper, trying to coax her back from the depths of her pain. “I’ll be here, every step of the way. I want to help you process this. I want you to feel safe again.”

As she cries, I feel my own tears begin to flow. The emotional toll of her confession hits me hard, and I realize that the weight of her pain is something I will never truly understand. “I’m right here with you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore. I promise I’ll never leave you.”

The tears continue to spill down her cheeks as she buries her face in my chest. “I just want to forget it all,” she whispers, her voice muffled against me. “But I know I can’t.”

“You don’t have to forget,” I say softly. “We’ll carry it together. You can lean on me, and we’ll figure this out one step at a time. But please, let me help you.”

She’s shaking in my arms, the memories forcing her body into a tremor. “It’s okay,” I soothe her, brushing my fingers through her hair. “You’re safe. You’re here with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she cries, her voice rising as the words spill out of her. “I kept replaying that moment over and over, thinking how I’d never get to hold you again, to feel you next to me. I just wanted to scream, but all I could do was sit there and wait. It felt like the whole world was collapsing, and I was powerless to stop it.”

“Ruby, I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am,” I say, my heart breaking for the girl in front of me, the girl who has fought through so much just to be here with me. “You should never have to feel that way.”

“I felt so alone, James,” she says, her voice breaking. “I wanted you to come back to me. I wanted to hold you, to make everything better, but I couldn’t. And it made me feel so angry.”

“I’m here now,” I say firmly, holding her gaze. “I’m alive, and I’m right here with you. You’re not alone with this anymore.”

“I was so scared,” she whispers, her eyes glistening. “And I felt so angry with you, but I didn’t know how to handle that. I didn’t know how to process the fear, the hurt, the panic of it all.”

“I know it’s brutal to revisit that, but I promise, we’ll face it together. I’ll be right by your side, Ruby. We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, wrapping my arms tighter around her as her cries begin to soften into shudders. “I want to help you heal from this.”

We stay in that moment, her trembling body against mine, as I hold her tightly, whispering words of comfort. I realize this isn’t just about healing; it’s about digging deep into the parts of ourselves that we’ve tried to hide away. 

Finally.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me,” I tell her softly, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here. We’ll work through this together, and I’ll be patient.”

With each whispered reassurance, I can see her starting to breathe again, the pain slowly becoming something she can face. The tears that flow from her eyes are a release, a way to cleanse the fears that have clung to her like shadows.

After what feels like hours of her reliving that moment, the tension begins to ease, and she starts to calm down, her sobs turning into soft whimpers. “I just want to feel safe again,” she admits, her voice small and fragile.

“You are safe,” I promise, wiping away her tears with my fingers. “You’re safe with me, always.”

“I just want to go back to the way things were,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Then we’ll take it one step at a time,” I assure her. “We’ll build that trust back up together. I’ll be your rock, Ruby. You’ll never have to go through this alone again.”

As her breathing steadies, I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, the weight of the emotions we’ve just shared taking a toll. I gently guide her back down, holding her close as we lie in silence. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us and the bond we’re rebuilding.

“I love you, James,” she murmurs, her voice soft as she snuggles closer. “I really do.“

“I love you too, Ruby,” I whisper back, my heart swelling with a mixture of pain and relief. “You mean everything to me.”

As I hold her close, feeling the tension still lingering between us, I press my lips gently to her temple, breathing in the quiet fragility of the moment. Ruby’s been through so much, and I know she needs more than just reassurance right now—she needs my promise.

“Ruby,” I murmur softly, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Before anything else, I need you to hear this. I’ll be here for you, always. To catch you whenever you need me. I’ll never let you fall, never again. And I promise, I will never take advantage of you. Not ever.”

Her gaze softens, and I see the weight of what I’m saying begin to settle in. I reach for her hand, pressing it against my chest, letting her feel the steady beat of my heart. “You’re safe with me. Always. This is your choice. Every time.”

I brush a strand of hair from her face, my voice gentle but firm. “No matter what, Ruby, I’ll never push you to a place you’re not ready to go. You can trust that, trust me. All I want is for you to feel loved, cherished... and in control. And if you need me, I’m right here. Forever.”

The words hang in the air between us, and I watch her, waiting for the understanding to settle in. She nods, her hand tightening around mine, her eyes filling with a quiet strength.

“I want that too,” she whispers, her voice soft but sure.

I kiss her gently then, slow and unhurried, letting her feel the depth of my promise. "I’ll always be here for you, Ruby. You have all of me—heart, soul... everything. Always."

Ruby nods, her expression softening, and I lean in to kiss her. It starts as a gentle brush of lips, but soon deepens into something more fervent. I want to show her that she’s safe with me, that I’m here to shield her from any lingering shadows of her past. 

With each caress, I explore the contours of her body, my fingers tracing delicate paths across her skin, igniting fire where they linger. I want her to feel every touch, every sigh, every heartbeat as a testament to my love. I take my time, savoring the warmth of her against me, the way her body molds perfectly to mine. 

As I kiss her neck, I hear her breath hitch, and I smile against her skin, feeling the energy between us shift and build. “You’re so beautiful, Ruby,” I murmur, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. “You deserve to feel loved completely.”

She whispers my name, and it sends a thrill through me. I pull back just enough to look into her eyes again, seeing the trust shining through her tears. I want to erase every painful memory she carries, even if just for this moment. 

I kiss her again, deeper this time, pouring all the love I have for her into that single moment. My hands roam her body, every touch intentional and tender, as if I’m trying to imprint this connection into her very soul. I want her to know she is seen, she is safe, and she is everything to me. 

“Let go of everything, love,” I urge softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re safe here with me.” I want her to feel how real this is, how real we are. I draw her closer, feeling her warmth seep into my skin. 

As our bodies intertwine, I guide her through every sensation, every whisper, every sigh. It’s a dance of intimacy, a sacred moment where nothing else matters but the two of us. I lose myself in her, my heart pounding with a fierce intensity. 

I kiss her deeply, pouring every ounce of my love and devotion into her, hoping to fill her with warmth and comfort. With each gentle movement, I coax her body to respond, showing her that she is desired, that she is loved without reservation.

As the passion builds between us, it’s not just about the physical connection; it’s an emotional surrender, a promise to navigate our wounds together. I’m lost in the beauty of her, the way she responds to my every touch, and I know I’m pouring every piece of myself into this moment.

In the rhythm of our bodies moving together, I lose track of time. I just want to stay here forever, wrapped up in her warmth, feeling her heartbeat sync with mine. It’s a powerful connection, one that transcends everything we’ve been through.

I want her to feel the strength of my love, the unwavering commitment I have to her. Every kiss, every caress, every whispered word is a promise that I’m here, that I will always protect her heart. 

As the waves of pleasure begin to crest, I can feel her vulnerability transform into something beautiful. She cries out softly, her eyes glistening with emotion, and I hold her tightly, feeling her tremble beneath me. I guide her through the peak, not rushing but savoring every moment, ensuring she feels the depth of this experience.

When we finally find our release, it’s overwhelming—a beautiful culmination of everything we’ve shared that night. I hold her close, feeling her body quiver against mine, and it’s in that moment that I know I have given her everything. 

As we lie together, wrapped in each other’s arms, I kiss her forehead gently, feeling the warmth of her tears as they roll down my chest. I want her to know that she’s not just a fragment of my life but the very core of it. 

“Please don’t ever doubt my love for you,” I whisper into the silence, my heart aching with the weight of everything we’ve shared. “You are my everything, and I’ll never stop fighting for us.”

Ruby nestles into me, her breath finally evening out as she finds solace in my embrace. I hold her tightly, not wanting to let go, knowing that while the night has been emotionally brutal, it has also been a turning point for us. 

As I lie there, her head resting on my chest, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace wash over me. I know we’ve taken a step toward healing, and I vow to be there for her as we navigate the path ahead, one moment at a time. 

The world fades away, and it’s just the two of us, our hearts intertwined as I drift into an uneasy sleep, tears slipping down my cheeks, grateful that she’s still here with me, and determined to never let her go again.

Chapter Text

Ruby

I wake up to the soft sound of pages turning and the comforting weight of James beside me. My body feels heavy, spent from last night’s emotional storm, but the warmth of his presence keeps me tethered to the moment. I blink against the afternoon light filtering through the curtains, taking in the quiet stillness around us.

He’s been here the whole time, I know it. I’ve drifted in and out of sleep, sometimes feeling his hand in mine or the soft rhythm of his breath. He’s trying not to disturb me, and I’m grateful for that. But more than anything, I’m grateful that he’s still here—after everything, he’s still here. The thought brings a flicker of peace, though my mind is still a whirl of raw emotions.

I turn slightly, and he notices, closing the book with a soft thud. His gaze meets mine, filled with quiet concern. He doesn’t ask how I’m doing, not for a long moment. Instead, he just runs his hand gently along my arm, his touch light but steady, as if he’s reminding me I’m safe.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is a quiet murmur, a question without pressure, as if he’s gauging whether I want to answer or not.

I take a breath, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Tired,” I admit. “Like… everything inside me is worn out.”

He nods, as if he expected that. “That’s okay. You don’t have to do anything today.”

I don’t, and I know that. But it feels strange to be this fragile. Now, I’m just this mess of exhaustion, and he’s the one holding everything together.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not even sure why the words escape. It feels wrong, but the weight of everything still presses on my chest.

“Don’t,” he says quickly, his hand stilling on my arm. “Don’t apologize. Please.” 

I meet his eyes, and the intensity there pulls me back to last night, to the hours of tears and shaking, where I felt like I was coming undone and he was the only thing keeping me from breaking apart completely.

“I just…” I try again, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. “I don’t know how to move on from all this.”

James doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t turn away or try to offer some solution. He just nods, understanding settling into the lines of his face. “You don’t have to move on today,” he says, his voice soft. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

I nod, my chest easing just a little. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now.

After a while, he slips out of bed, leaving me wrapped in the blankets. The smell of something cooking wafts through the air, and it pulls me out of the fog just a bit. I can’t help but smile when I imagine him fumbling around the kitchen, trying to piece together something edible.

When he returns, balancing a plate, I raise an eyebrow. “You cooked?”

He gives a modest shrug. “Something like that. It’s… edible.”

I laugh softly, a sound that feels strange in the quiet of the day, but it’s real. And it’s something. “Thank you,” I whisper, taking the plate. I don’t have much of an appetite, but the fact that he’s trying, that he’s thinking of me, fills me with gratitude.

He sits beside me, watching me carefully as I take a few bites. “I’ve been thinking,” I say after a while, the words slow but deliberate. “Last night… talking about it. It helped. A little.”

He watches me, his face unreadable, but I can feel the tension in him, like he’s waiting for the worst.

“I didn’t think it would,” I continue, my voice faltering. “But saying it out loud… while you were here… it made it feel less… like it owned me.”

He exhales softly, his hand finding mine again. “Good,” he whispers. “I’m glad.”

I take another breath, and then, finally, I ask, “How are you doing?”

His eyes flicker with surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting me to ask. But he recovers quickly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m okay.”

I search his face, not convinced. He’s been strong for me all day, trying to make sure I have what I need. But I know him too well. I know he’s been carrying the weight of what happened last night just as much as I have.

“How are you really?” I press, my voice soft but insistent. “After last night?”

He looks down at our joined hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin. For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. When he finally does, his voice is quiet, as if he’s choosing his words carefully.

“I’m…” He stops, his jaw tightening slightly. “It was hard. Seeing you like that. Hearing everything.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words settle between us. It was hard, for both of us.

“I didn’t realize,” he continues, his voice a little more strained, “how much you were carrying. I knew… but I didn’t know. And that’s making me feel pretty shitty, to be honest. Because I should have known.“

I tighten my grip on his hand. “I didn’t realize either, until last night. I was so scared. And angry. And… I didn’t know what to do with any of it. I just… froze.”

His eyes meet mine again, and this time, I see the pain there. Not for himself, but for me. For what I went through. For what he unknowingly put me through.

“I’m so sorry, Ruby,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

I shake my head, a tear slipping down my cheek. “You didn’t know. And… I didn’t either. Not until now.”

We sit in silence for a while, the weight of everything we’ve shared hanging in the air between us. But it’s not the same as last night. There’s no crushing despair, no overwhelming panic. Just… the quiet truth of what we’ve been through and the understanding that we’re still here. Together.

Finally, I take a breath, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s better now. A little. Because you’re here. Because we’re talking about it.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “We’ll keep talking. Whenever you’re ready. As much as you need.”

I nod, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel like I’m drowning under the weight of everything. It’s still there, but it’s not suffocating me anymore.

——

The warm water surrounds me, soothing the soreness in my muscles and the heaviness in my chest. I sink deeper into the tub, letting the heat wash over me, but something’s missing. I glance around, expecting to see James beside me, maybe already settling into the other end of the tub. But he’s not here.

It hits me, then—he’s giving me space. The thought is strange, almost foreign. Usually, I’m the one trying to make sure he’s okay, stepping back when I think he needs room to breathe. But today, after everything, I don’t want space. If anything, I want the opposite. 

A quiet ache settles in my chest, not from the exhaustion, but from the sudden realization that this—us navigating this moment—is new for him too. He doesn’t have a guide for this, just like I don’t. He’s trying to do the right thing, and right now, he thinks that means giving me room. But he doesn’t know that today, I need him close. 

I sit up slightly, the water rippling around me, and I call out softly, “James?”

A moment later, he steps into the doorway, his eyes soft with a question. "Yeah?"

“I don’t need space,” I say quietly, almost afraid to admit it, though I don’t know why. “I need you.”

The relief that washes over his face is immediate. He moves quickly, shedding his clothes without hesitation. Within moments, he’s sliding into the tub with me, the water rising slightly as his body sinks into it. The warmth of him next to me, his skin brushing mine, is exactly what I’ve been missing. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me gently against him, and I let out a long, slow breath.

“I wasn’t sure…” he starts, his voice low. “I didn’t want to crowd you. After everything.”

I lean my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’re never crowding me, James. Not when I need you like this.” I pause, feeling the words settle. “I don’t want space. Not today.”

His hand trails slowly through the water, lightly brushing against my arm. “You never have to hold back,” he says, his voice softer now, more certain. “Not when it’s about needing me close.”

I nod against him, the tension slowly melting away. There’s something comforting in the way he says it, like he’s giving me permission to just… be, without second-guessing myself. Without worrying about whether I’m asking too much. 

I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the water hold me, and I feel like it’s going to be okay. Not right away. But eventually.

James

As I sink into the tub beside Ruby, the warm water wrapping around me, I feel like I can finally exhale. My body aches, not just from the physical exhaustion, but from everything that’s happened in the last day. It’s been an emotional storm—hearing Ruby say the things she’s kept buried for so long, seeing her break down, and feeling so helpless as she unraveled in front of me. But now, here in this moment, there’s a quiet that feels… safe. The tension I didn’t even realize I was holding in my shoulders slowly fades as the heat works its way through me.

I look over at her, leaning into me, her hair wet and clinging to her skin. She looks more at ease too, but there’s still something fragile about her. The vulnerability she showed last night, that she’s still showing now—it’s been gut-wrenching to witness. But I’m relieved she let me in, finally. That she trusted me with her pain.

God, I didn’t know. I mean, I knew there were things that haunted her, but not like this. Not the depth of it. Hearing her speak those words last night… it felt like my heart was breaking with  hers. And now, after all that, I’m just so damn tired. It’s like the weight of the last 24 hours is finally hitting me, and all I want to do is stay right here, in this moment, and breathe for the first time in what feels like forever.

Her head rests on my chest, her body against mine, and the warmth between us feels like a cocoon. I can’t help but press a kiss to the top of her head, the gesture small but filled with everything I can’t say right now. She doesn’t need me to talk anyway, not now. We’re past words. 

I close my eyes for a moment, the steady rhythm of her breathing calming me. The water moves gently around us, and for the first time since she started telling me everything last night, I let myself relax. Really relax. I don’t have to be on high alert anymore, waiting to see if she’s going to break again. She’s here, she’s with me, and I’ve got her. And in this moment, I can finally let go of the knot of anxiety that’s been twisting in my gut for hours.

I’m still processing everything she told me. The things she’s been carrying… it’s more than I ever imagined. And it’s going to take time—for both of us—to really unpack all of it. But for now, I’m just grateful she’s still here, that she’s letting me hold her like this. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, trying to figure out how to help her, how to be what she needs. But this—being here, being close—it feels right.

I tighten my arm around her, pulling her just a little closer, feeling the way her body fits perfectly against mine. She’s always fit like this, like we’re two pieces of a puzzle that were made to come together. And right now, after everything, I need that more than I can say.

The water ripples gently around us, the warmth seeping into my bones, and I let myself rest. For the first time in what feels like days, I can just be here, with her, and that’s enough.

____

As we settle back into bed, I can feel the weight of the day still hanging between us, but it’s different now. The air feels softer somehow, like we’ve both let go of something heavy. I’m relieved when Ruby tells me she just wants to stay here. Honestly, I don’t think I have the energy for anything else either. I get her some tea and chocolate, offering to grab anything else she might want, but I know before I even ask that it’s not the food she needs right now. It’s me. And that’s something I can give her.

I sit back down on the edge of the bed, watching her closely, waiting for her to find the words she’s searching for. I don’t rush her. I never would. This is her space to figure out what she needs to say, and I’ll be here for as long as it takes.

When she finally speaks, her voice is soft, almost fragile. “It felt like I took that night… and built a wall around it,” she starts, her eyes distant, like she’s looking at something far away. “And sealed it with a lid. I didn’t mean to, but… it just happened.”

I don’t say anything, just nodding to show her I’m listening. God, I wish I could take it all away for her, make it so she never had to go through any of this. But all I can do now is be here, listen, and try to understand.

“And then… I decided not to look at it,” she continues, her words faltering as she searches for the right ones. “That wasn’t really intentional either, but in a way… it was. I knew it was there, because I could feel it. Like this frozen, hard stone in my chest. But I kept hoping… it would get better. If I just waited a little longer.”

I swallow hard, feeling the ache in my chest as she talks. I can picture it so clearly—her carrying this weight, waiting for it to disappear on its own. And it never did.

“It didn’t get better, though,” she finishes, her voice quiet. “It just got heavier.”

I nod again, my throat tight. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, even though I know it’s not enough. It will never be enough to undo what she’s been through.

For a while, I just hold her, letting the silence stretch between us. I know there’s more I need to ask, and it’s going to be hard. But I have to know.

“Ruby,” I start slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need to ask you something. And I need you to be honest with me.”

She looks up at me, her eyes full of that same vulnerability I’ve seen all day, and it breaks my heart to even have to ask this. But I have to.

“Did you ever feel like that when we were together?” I ask, my words stumbling out, careful but heavy. “When we made love. Did you ever feel… unsafe? Like you weren’t okay?”

It’s the hardest question I’ve ever had to ask her. The thought of her carrying that kind of fear or pain when we’ve been together… I don’t think I could handle it if that were the case.

Her eyes widen slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that, but then she shakes her head. “No,” she says firmly, her voice soft but certain. “Never. That was always the place where I was safe. Where I knew I could be myself. If I didn’t feel safe, I would’ve told you. Like I told you in the car, remember?”

A wave of relief washes over me, so intense that I have to close my eyes for a moment just to steady myself. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. How much I needed to know that, despite everything else, I hadn’t misread her in that way. That I wasn’t that oblivious. 

I nod, pulling her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for telling me,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. “I just… I needed to know.”

She snuggles into me, her head resting against my chest, and I can feel the tension slowly starting to ease out of both of us. We’ve still got a long way to go, I know that. There are things we’re both going to have to work through, talk through. But right now, knowing that I’ve been her safe place, that even in all this pain she’s carried, she’s never felt that unsafe with me—that’s enough for now.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Ruby,” I whisper, my lips brushing her forehead. “Whatever you need. You never have to hold back with me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but the way she holds me just a little tighter, the way her body relaxes against mine—that’s answer enough.

Ruby

As I lie here in James’s arms, his question echoes in my mind. *Did you ever feel unsafe when we were together?* The way he asked, so careful, so full of hesitation, breaks my heart. I know he didn’t want to ask it. He was scared of what the answer might be, of what he could have unknowingly done. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him to say those words.

And I’m so sorry that he had to.

But my answer was true. It was real. I’ve never felt anything but safe with him. Even in the darkest moments, when everything else was uncertain and overwhelming, being with James has always been my refuge. I hope he believes me. No—I know he does, because I felt it in the way his body relaxed when I told him. I could sense the relief flooding through him, as if the weight he’s been carrying finally lifted.

And all of a sudden, I’m glad I set a boundary in the car. It would have been easy to take that step. Of course, because it was James. But now it’s proof that I did tell him when something didn’t feel safe.

But the fact that he needed to ask… it makes me ache for him. I hate that this is something he’s worried about. That he even had to wonder if he could have caused me insecurity in that way. He’s spent so much of his life being afraid of turning into someone else—someone he’s not—that the fear is always there, lurking beneath the surface.

I press myself closer to him, wishing I could take that fear away. I want him to know, more than anything, that he’s nothing like the people who’ve hurt him. He’s never been that person with me, not once. And I’m sorry he’s had to live with the doubt, even if only for a second.

But tonight, I told him the truth. He’s been my safe place, always.

I close my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. I don’t want him to carry this any longer. I just want him to know how much he means to me, how much I trust him. 

I turn in his arms, just enough so I can look up at him. His eyes are tired but still searching mine, as if waiting for some final reassurance, even though I’ve already told him the truth. It’s not enough to say it, though. Not now. I can’t just tell him I trust him—I need to show him. It’s the only way I can think of, the only way that feels right in this moment.

Slowly, I sit up and reach for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head, letting it drop to the floor. James’s eyes widen slightly, not with hunger, but with surprise. His hand moves instinctively toward me, as if to ask me what I’m doing, but I stop him with a look.

“I need you to make me feel safe,” I whisper, my voice soft but firm. “Loved. Just… be with me. Please.”

He watches me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding. There’s no hesitation as he moves to sit up beside me, his hands reaching to help undress me the rest of the way. I can feel the tenderness in every movement, the way his fingers brush lightly over my skin, like he’s afraid of doing something wrong, of hurting me in any way.

Once I’m bare before him, I tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin against mine. 

When we’re both undressed, I settle back into the bed, pulling him down with me. His body is warm, comforting, as he wraps himself around me. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, his breath against my hair, and for the first time today, I feel like the world is right again.

“I trust you,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I always have. You’ve never made me feel unsafe, not once. And I’m so sorry you had to ask. But I want you to know, without any doubt, that I’m safe with you.”

His arms tighten around me, and I feel the tension leave his body as he exhales, his relief palpable. He presses his lips softly to my forehead, his hands moving gently over my skin, reassuring me with every touch.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice raw, filled with emotion. “I’ll always keep you safe. Always.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I feel it. The safety, the love, the quiet promise that everything will be okay. He’s here. And that’s all I need right now.

James

I can hardly believe what Ruby just did, undressing in front of me, telling me she needs me to make her feel safe and loved. I watch her, my heart pounding, feeling a rush of emotions all at once. Relief, love, a protective instinct so strong it nearly overwhelms me. She’s offering me her trust, her vulnerability, in a way that cuts right through everything that’s been weighing on me.

I reach for her carefully, my hands grazing her skin, afraid of moving too quickly, afraid of making her feel anything but the softness I want to give her. I feel like I need to slow down, let her feel the tenderness in every touch. My fingers trace the lines of her body, not for lust, but to remind her, to remind myself, that I’m here, with her, for her.

“Are you sure?” I whisper, my lips close to her ear, my breath warm against her skin. I need her to know she can change her mind at any moment, that she’s in control of this. But she doesn’t hesitate, her hands running up my back, pulling me closer.

“I trust you,” she breathes, her voice soft but steady. “I want this. I need this. With you.“

The weight of her words hits me like a wave, and I feel my chest tighten. I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in, trying to focus on the moment, on what she’s offering me. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just us. I kiss her slowly, letting my lips linger against hers, feeling the way her body responds to me, the way her hands hold me tight.

We’re wrapped around each other now, skin against skin, and the world outside the bed fades away. It’s just her, just the way she looks at me like I’m the only person who can give her what she needs. My hands move along her body, tender and slow, exploring the softness of her skin, the curves of her waist, her hips. I whisper her name, telling her how much I love her, how beautiful she is. I tell her she’s safe, because I need her to know it.

She responds to every touch, her body arching toward mine, and I feel the tension leave her with every breath. It’s like everything we’ve been through—the pain, the fear, the nights of holding back—melts away in this moment, and all that’s left is this. This quiet, powerful need to be close.

I don’t rush. I can’t. I need her to feel how much I love her, how much I care about her. My hands stay gentle, my kisses soft, as I move over her. She pulls me closer, whispering my name, telling me she loves me, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. It’s not just the words—it’s the way she’s holding me, the way she’s giving herself to me, the trust she’s placed in my hands.

When we finally come together, it’s not rushed or frantic. It’s slow, deliberate, every movement a reminder of how much we love each other. I feel her fingers digging into my back, her breath warm against my neck, and it’s like everything else fades away. There’s nothing but the warmth of her body, the sound of her breath, the soft way she whispers my name. I keep my movements gentle, my hands firm but careful, holding her as if she might break, but knowing she won’t.

“I love you,” I whisper again, my lips against her skin. “I love you so much.”

She holds me tighter, her body trembling beneath mine, and I can feel her heart beating against my chest. We stay like that for a long time, moving together, slowly, tenderly, like the world is holding its breath for us.

When it’s over, I collapse beside her, pulling her into my arms, holding her close. She nuzzles into my chest, her breath slowing, her hand resting over my heart. I kiss the top of her head, whispering promises I’ll never break, telling her she’ll always be my love, that I’ll always be here for her. And as we lie there in the quiet, I realize that this—this is everything. Just being here with her, loving her, holding her—it’s all I’ll ever need.

—-

Ruby’s voice is soft, almost a whisper, as she runs her fingers gently through my hair. “Rest now,” she says, her lips brushing against my forehead. “We’ll be okay, James. You’ve been nothing but wonderful. We’ll figure it out together.”

I feel a knot in my chest loosen at her words, the tightness of the past hours finally giving way to something softer. 

She holds me close, her fingers still tracing slow circles on my skin. “We’re okay,” she repeats, as if she knows I need to hear it again.

I nod, eyes heavy but heart lighter, feeling the truth in her words. “I love you,” I murmur, barely audible as I let myself relax fully for the first time.

She smiles, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I know,” she whispers back. "I love you too."

There’s a beat of silence, comfortable and familiar, before Ruby lets out a small laugh. “Maybe we’ll leave the house tomorrow,” she jokes lightly, the sound of her voice tugging at the corners of my lips.

I chuckle, my eyes still closed, my body melting deeper into the bed. “Maybe,” I agree, though neither of us really believes it.

She laughs again, the sound soft and sweet. “Or… maybe not.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” I whisper, my voice already fading into sleep.

Her laughter lingers in the air, and the last thing I feel is the steady rhythm of her heart against mine, grounding me in a peace I hadn’t realized I needed.

——

It’s a sunny early morning, and the warmth of the sun brushes against my face. I glance over at Ruby as we step into the garden, her fingers lightly grazing the soft fabric of her dress. The air feels fresh and alive, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of blooming flowers. Honestly, this is exactly what we need right now.

She leans into me as we walk, her arm hooked through mine, and I keep her close, steadying us both. “Told you no one would be here,” I say, my voice low in the stillness.

She looks up at me, a soft smile gracing her lips. “You were right. It’s perfect.”

There’s something about this morning, the bright sun shining down on us, that feels right. Like we’re pressing pause on everything else—on yesterday and all the heaviness—and just… being. The garden is small, but it stretches out in front of us, vibrant colors popping against the green. The air is filled with the sweet scent of flowers, a promise of new beginnings.

We walk slowly, our steps in sync. I glance down at her again, her hair flowing freely in the warm breeze, her eyes wide as she takes it all in—the garden, the sun, the peace. I know she’s still feeling the weight of Friday and yesterday, just as I am. I’ve never seen her break open like that, and it gutted me. But I also know it was necessary. We had to face it to move forward.

“You okay?” I ask softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquility around us.

She meets my gaze, her eyes tired yet soft. “Yeah. I think so. I feel… lighter. Like it’s not all trapped inside anymore.”

I nod, squeezing her arm a little tighter. “Good. That’s… good.”

We fall into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. We’ve never needed to fill the space between us with words. Just walking together, breathing the same air, is enough.

After a few minutes, we find a bench tucked away in a corner of the garden, half-hidden by blooming trees. I lead her over, and we sit down, the warmth from the sun soaking into our clothes. I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, and let it fill me with a sense of calm.

She leans her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her. It’s warm out here, and I can feel the sunlight pouring over us, reminding me that we’re alive, together, pushing through it all.

“Do you think we’ll be okay?” she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, like she’s unsure if she wants me to answer.

I tighten my arm around her. “Yeah. I do.” I truly believe it. We’ve been through hell, and it’s not over yet, but we’re still here. Still together.

She exhales softly, and I feel some of the tension leave her body. We sit there for a long time, just the two of us, the sun wrapping around us like a warm hug. It’s quiet, peaceful, and perfect. Exactly what we needed.

She shifts slightly against my shoulder, and I can feel her eyes on me, even though I’m staring out into the garden. “How did you know?” she asks quietly. “When everything fell apart Friday night… and yesterday when I couldn’t even function. How did you know what I needed?”

I let out a soft laugh, a little puff of air that lingers in the warmth before disappearing. That’s an easy one. “Because,” I say, turning my head just enough to meet her gaze, “I did exactly what you did for me.”

She blinks, her brow furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“When I was a mess,” I continue, my voice soft but steady, “when I didn’t know how to make sense of anything, you were there. You didn’t have all the answers—hell, you didn’t need to. You just… showed up. Took care of me. Held me through it even when you had no idea how to do that. You did what made sense because everything else felt so damn uncertain.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes searching mine as if trying to find something deeper in what I’m saying. I know she’s still processing everything, piecing herself back together after the storm of this weekend.

“You took care of me,” I add softly. “Because that’s what made sense. And that’s what I did for you. I just… showed up. Did what I could, even when I didn’t know what that was exactly. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You’re there. You take care of them, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.”

She’s staring at me now, her eyes filled with something I can’t quite name—gratitude, maybe, or something deeper. Then she leans in, resting her forehead against my shoulder, her breath warm against my skin.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispers, her voice so small it almost breaks me.

I hold her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t ever have to find out.”

We sit like that for a while, the sun warming us, the cool breeze gentle against our skin. It’s quiet, and I can feel her letting go of the weight she’s been carrying, bit by bit. I know it’s not gone—not by a long shot—but it’s lighter now. Manageable.

And as long as I’m here, I’ll keep carrying whatever I can for her.

She shifts against me, her head still resting on my shoulder, and I can feel her thinking, the weight of everything we’ve been through still hanging in the air. After a moment, she lets out a breath, her voice soft but steady. “We have to let go of some of it now, James.”

I glance down at her, surprised by how certain she sounds. She’s not just suggesting it—she’s offering it. An opening, forgiveness, a way forward. “You really think we can?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intended.

She meets my gaze, her eyes full of a quiet certainty. “I know we can. I can. I’ve already started.” She searches my face, her hand gently squeezing mine. “Can you?”

Her question hangs between us, but this time, I don’t feel the usual doubt. The forgiveness she’s offering, the way she looks at me now—it feels real, tangible. Like it’s already here, waiting for me to accept it.

And I realize, I can. I want to.

I nod slowly, my throat tight. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I can.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she leans into me more, resting her forehead against my shoulder. “That’s all I need,” she whispers. “We’ll figure out the rest together.”

Helen

At the dinner table, there’s an ease to Ruby and James that’s unmistakable, though subtle in its shift. It’s not that they were ever tense before—at least not in any obvious way—but tonight, something feels different. There’s a quiet calm between them, a sense of shared peace that’s woven into every glance and unspoken connection.

Ruby sits next to James, her hand resting lightly on the table beside his. There’s no need for overt gestures of affection, no obvious signs that something has changed. But I can see it in the way they move together, the way their shoulders touch slightly as they shift, how they don’t seem to need to fill the space between them with words.

Angus clears his throat, breaking the comfortable quiet with a gentle comment. “Ophelia mentioned she’ll be reaching out to a therapist soon,” he says, his voice calm, but watching James carefully.

James doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate. He nods casually, taking a sip of water before responding. “That’s good,” he says, and his voice is steady, untroubled. “I’ll be visiting Lydia at Ophelia’s one of the next weekends anyway, so I’ll probably see her.”

There’s no tension in his answer, no tightness in his posture. It’s as though something heavy has been lifted, something they worked through together, though I can’t quite pinpoint what. But whatever it was, it’s gone now. Ruby gives him a small, reassuring smile, and James returns it without a second thought, their connection quiet but undeniable.

I glance at Angus, and he catches my eye, the same realization settling between us. They’re in a good place. Whatever weight they’d carried before, whatever had been lingering beneath the surface, it seems lighter now.

We continue with dinner, the conversation flowing naturally. There’s no awkwardness, no lingering tension from whatever the weekend held for them. Ruby leans slightly toward James as they talk, and when he listens to her, there’s a softness to him that feels like peace.

I can’t help but feel a sense of quiet relief. They’re going to be okay, I think to myself. Whatever they’ve worked through, it’s brought them here, to this calm and easy place where they’re simply together, no barriers between them. And that’s all that matters.

Chapter Text

James

As we lie there, the room quiet and the weight of the day slowly falling away, I can’t stop thinking about London. That moment we shared—when we finally talked, really talked—felt like we cracked something open between us. Like we finally got past all the walls we’ve both been building, the ones that have been standing between us, even when we were right next to each other. 

But now, in the stillness of the night, I’m afraid. Not of her, or of us, but of how easy it would be to lose that space we found. It took so much for us to get there, and I don’t want to let it slip away, to go back to pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t.

I turn to her, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, and I know I have to say something. I have to find a way to keep that space open, without making it feel like a burden.

“Ruby,” I say softly, my thumb brushing over the back of her hand, grounding myself in the familiar comfort of her touch. “I’ve been thinking.”

She looks at me, her eyes soft and full of that quiet curiosity she has when she’s trying to understand me, trying to make sense of whatever is going on in my head.

“I don’t want us to lose what we found in London,” I say, my voice low but steady. “I don’t want to go back to... hiding behind everything. But I also don’t want it to feel like we have to have some big emotional talk all the time, you know? I don’t want it to feel like pressure.”

She shifts slightly, her head tilting as she listens, and I can tell she’s really hearing me. That’s one of the things I love most about her—she always listens, even when it’s hard.

“So I was thinking,” I continue, “what if we just... check in with each other? Each night, before we fall asleep. Just... say how we’re feeling. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate. Just a quick, honest check-in. If you’re okay, tell me you’re okay. If you’re not, say that too. I want to know, even if it’s simple. I want us to be honest, without it feeling like a big deal.”

Her hand tightens around mine for a moment, and I can feel her thinking, processing what I’m saying. I hold my breath, waiting for her response, hoping this feels like something she can do. Something that won’t add more pressure to everything we’re already carrying.

After what feels like forever, she finally speaks, her voice quiet but sure. “I think that’s a beautiful idea,” she says, and there’s a softness in her tone that makes my chest loosen, just a bit. 

Relief washes over me, and I smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Okay,” I whisper. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

It’s not everything. It won’t solve all our problems. But it’s a start—a way to keep the door open, to stay connected. And right now, that feels like enough.

*******

Monday morning, and I think it’s time to shift gears. I know Ruby. She doesn’t need everything to be heavy all the time, not after the past few weeks. So today, I’m determined to do something different. Because sometimes the tone sets the mood.

I pull out my phone just before heading into class, a small smile tugging at my lips. Time to bring back the texts. The sweet, random messages that gave us something light, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

8:12 AM

**James**: I have a very important question.  

**James**: What’s your favorite color this morning? It changes, right? Because mine’s definitely whatever color your eyes are when you’re laughing at me.  

A few minutes pass, and I know she’s busy, probably gathering her things for the first period. But I’m grinning like an idiot already, knowing she’ll see it soon.

8:18 AM

**Ruby**: I’m going to assume that was a very roundabout way of telling me to laugh at you more.  

**Ruby**: Also, it’s a mix of blue and green today. I think it’s called “James-is-being-cheeky-again.”  

I chuckle to myself. She’s quick, even when she’s exhausted, which she definitely still is after everything that came out over the weekend. But this... this feels right. A little back-and-forth, something light amidst all the pressure of exams and everything else.

8:25 AM

**James**: Well, as long as it’s not the color of “I’m-going-to-murder-James-in-his-sleep,” we’re good.  

**James**: Meet me in the alcove after third period? Just five minutes. We can make out… I mean, talk about… serious academic things.  

I hit send and almost immediately regret the last bit, but the thought of her smiling at it makes the embarrassment worth it.

8:27 AM

**Ruby**: You mean, like Shakespeare? Really academic stuff. Very proper.  

**Ruby**: And yes, I’ll see you there. But only if you promise to let me beat you at making out—uh, talking.  

**Ruby**: Very. Academic. Talking.  

I laugh out loud, drawing a few curious glances from the other students milling around. She’s got me. She always does.

---

Third period drags on forever, but finally, I make my way to the alcove. It’s funny—how something as simple as this little hidden spot feels like ours. It’s nostalgic, sure, but it’s also more than that. It’s a reminder of us. Of the moments we stole away when everything was heavier than we could handle.

I lean against the wall, waiting for her, my phone buzzing in my hand.

12:32 PM

**Ruby**: I’m on my way. Try not to look too excited. We don’t want rumors about you being distracted by a beautiful academic rival.  

**Ruby**: And yes, I’m talking about me.  

I chuckle and tuck the phone into my pocket just as she rounds the corner. She’s grinning already, a soft light in her eyes despite the exhaustion.

“You’re early,” she says, stepping closer. “Eager for some serious academic discourse?”

I slide my arms around her waist and pull her in, resting my forehead against hers. “Very eager.”

We stay like that for a moment, just breathing each other in, and for the first time in weeks, it feels like the world is lighter. She’s here, I’m here, and the weight of everything else can stay outside this alcove for now.

She tips her head up, brushing her lips against mine, and it’s quick, soft, like we’re promising ourselves we’ll always have this. Then she pulls back, her hand resting on my chest. “Thanks for the texts.”

“I figured you could use a distraction,” I say softly. “I know I’ve been... intense lately.”

She shakes her head, squeezing my hand. “You’ve been what I needed. But yeah... maybe a little lighthearted distraction now and then is a good idea.”

“Just wait,” I tease. “You’re going to get so many texts, you’ll get tired of me.”

She laughs, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day. “Impossible.”

We steal another kiss, and then the bell rings, dragging us back to reality. But it’s fine. We’ll be back here tomorrow.

---

Throughout the rest of the day, I keep up the messages. Little nudges, small moments of levity. It feels good that I can do this.

2:45 PM

**James**: If I finish this essay without losing my mind, I demand a prize. Preferably in the form of chocolate or a really long kiss. Or both.  

2:50 PM

**Ruby**: That sounds dangerously close to bribery.  

**Ruby**: But if it gets you to finish that essay… fine. Chocolate and a kiss. Maybe.  

We end up back in the alcove at the end of the day, just before I head down to the field, and it’s the same—just us. A few minutes of closeness, a kiss or two, a joke, and then we go back to the world. But these moments? They’re ours.

****

Alistair's sharp as ever, always catching onto the slightest shifts in mood. As we head to the lacrosse field in the late afternoon, I can feel his eyes on me, sizing me up the way he always does. He’s not one to let anything slide. And today, it’s clear that he’s picked up on the change.

"So," he starts casually, twirling his lacrosse stick as we walk, "you’ve been a little... lighter today, haven’t you? A bit more... manageable for those around you?"

I raise an eyebrow, knowing exactly where this is headed. "Is this your way of telling me I’ve been difficult?"

Alistair smirks, bumping his shoulder into mine. "You? Difficult? No, no, of course not." He pauses, then shrugs. "But yeah, maybe a bit of a challenge. Not that I mind. Keeps things interesting. But something's shifted, and I'm curious."

I keep my gaze straight ahead. The last thing I’m about to do is spill what happened with Ruby. Not to Alistair, not to anyone. It’s too raw, too personal. But I can give him something. I owe him that much.

"I’ve been trying to make things easier for her," I say, keeping it vague. "Figured I’ve been enough of a handful lately, so... yeah, trying to dial it back a bit. Be a little less difficult."

Alistair glances at me, and I can feel the weight of his scrutiny, but he doesn’t push. He’s good like that—he knows when to drop it. "Fair enough," he says, nodding. "Can’t argue with self-awareness."

We keep walking, the sounds of cleats hitting the ground, the distant shouts from other teams practicing. But Alistair isn’t done yet. He never is.

"Tell you what," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you’re really trying to be easier to handle for Ruby, how about I wring you out on the field today? Wear you down so much that by the time you get home, you’ll be so exhausted, you’ll be the easiest maintenance she’s ever had."

I roll my eyes but can’t help the laugh that escapes me. "Yeah, sure. Like you could keep up with me."

Alistair laughs, flipping his stick over his shoulder. "Oh, I’m definitely keeping up with you today. You’re gonna be thanking me when you crawl into bed, completely worn out and incapable of being a pain in the ass."

I shake my head, but the banter feels good, like old times. "Fine," I say, "but don’t cry when I leave you behind in the dust."

He grins, that competitive edge lighting up his face. "You wish, Beaufort. You wish ."

---

By the time practice ends, Alistair’s made good on his promise. He pushed me harder than usual, and I let him. Maybe it’s what I needed too—something physical to burn off the tension that’s been simmering under the surface. My muscles ache, and I’m drenched in sweat, but the exhaustion is welcome. Maybe Ruby won’t have to deal with me brooding tonight.

As we head off the field, Alistair shoots me a knowing look. "Feeling more... easy maintenance now?"

I huff out a breath, shaking my head. "You might’ve won this round. But don’t get used to it."

He claps me on the back, laughing. "Don’t worry, mate. Ruby owes me one for this. Just make sure you don’t screw it up before I can cash in." 

I roll my eyes but can’t help the grin creeping across my face. Alistair’s got my back, in his own ridiculous way. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what I needed.

Ruby

When I walk into the living room that evening after my shift, I find James stretched out on the couch, completely knocked out. He's so still, it's almost peaceful, and I can't help but smile. He must have been wrecked after lacrosse practice. 

Ember’s standing over him with a grin that spells trouble. Before I can say anything, she tilts a glass of water over his face. The splash of cold water jolts him awake with a start, his eyes wide and disoriented as he scrambles to sit up, blinking against the droplets running down his face.

“What the—” James sputters, wiping his face.

Ember bursts into laughter, doubling over as she points at him. “You were out cold, James! Someone had to bring you back to the land of the living.”

Before James can even think of a retort, Mom walks in, her eyes narrowing at Ember. “Ember,” she says, her voice carrying that familiar warning tone. “That was uncalled for. James is a guest in this house.”

Ember raises her eyebrows, undeterred. “A guest? He’s practically living here now. Doesn’t that give me rights to mess with him?”

Helen sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

James, now more awake but clearly still exhausted, leans back against the couch with a tired chuckle. “She’s got a point,” he says, still wiping water from his face. “I’m basically furniture at this point.”

Helen gives him a small smile, shaking her head. “You’re not furniture, James. And you deserve a bit more respect than a glass of water to the face.”

He gives her a playful salute. “Appreciate the backup, Helen.”

As the commotion settles, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Alistair. 

21:09 pm

Alistair:

1. a) You might want to give James a massage tonight if you want him to be able to walk tomorrow. I left him in a state.
2. b) I’m here for you, whenever you need a friend. Especially when it’s about things only you and I know. 

The second part of the message hits me in a way that makes my chest tighten, but in a good way. Alistair’s not usually the mushy type, but this is his way of letting me know that he’s there, really there, if I need to talk about what happened that weekend. About Mortimer. About James. About everything I‘ve been working through.

I glance over at James, who’s looking like he could fall asleep again any second. The thought of giving him that massage crosses my mind, and I know it’ll do him some good after what Alistair must have put him through today. But it’s that last part of the message that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s comforting, knowing Alistair’s got my back too.

I type out a quick reply:

Ruby:

Thanks, Alistair. For everything. I’ll take you up on that massage idea... and the offer to talk.

Alistair:

Tomorrow then? My place?

Ruby:

Good.

I lock my phone and look over at James again. He’s still groggy, but there’s something so endearing about seeing him this way—tired, relaxed, not trying to be anything but exactly what he is in this moment. And it hits me how lucky I am. After everything, we’re still here, figuring things out together. 

I walk over, gently nudging his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you off this couch before Ember tries to drown you again.”

He grins up at me, still half-asleep but managing to stand. “I’ll take my chances.”

As we head upstairs, I know that tonight will be about taking care of him, the way he’s been doing for me. 

James is barely awake by the time we make it upstairs. His eyelids are heavy, and he’s moving like a man who’s just run a marathon. I can’t help but laugh quietly to myself, knowing exactly why he’s like this. Alistair must’ve put him through the wringer today at lacrosse. And James, being James, just pushed himself until he had nothing left.

As soon as we’re in the room, he collapses onto the bed with a groan, his face buried in the pillow. “I think Alistair broke me,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I smirk, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. “He did warn me that you’d be a wreck. Guess he wasn’t kidding, huh?”

James lets out a half-hearted laugh, turning his head slightly so he can look at me through one squinted eye. “I’m never playing lacrosse again.”

“Sure you aren’t,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair gently. He closes his eyes again at the touch, his body sinking deeper into the bed like he’s trying to melt into it. “You do realize this is payback for all the times you’ve gotten the upper hand on him, right?”

He grunts in response, clearly too tired to argue. I slide off my shoes and climb onto the bed beside him, lying on my side as I drape an arm across his back. He’s warm, his skin radiating heat from the workout, hot shower and exhaustion, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice slow and sleepy.

“Oh, absolutely,” I say, unable to hide the grin on my face. “I mean, how often do I get to see you this wiped out? I’m savoring every second of it.”

He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, but I can tell he’s too tired to fight back. I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck. “Just relax,” I murmur, “I’ve got you.”

For a moment, we’re both quiet, the only sounds in the room the soft rustling of the sheets and his deepening breaths. I let my hand wander across his back, massaging gently as I go, working out the knots and tension that must’ve built up during practice. His muscles are tight, but he’s already loosening under my touch.

“You’re not bad at this,” he mumbles, his voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“I should be, with how often I’ve had to fix you after Alistair gets his hands on you,” I reply, laughing softly. “Plus, I’m thinking of it as a thank you for taking such good care of me this weekend.”

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his gratitude in the way he leans into me, his body heavy with exhaustion but trusting. I shift slightly, curling up next to him, my head resting against his shoulder as I continue my slow, soothing strokes across his back.

“You’re so tired,” I say quietly, a fond smile playing on my lips. “You really pushed yourself today, didn’t you?”

“Had to make up for being difficult“, he mutters, and I can hear the playful smile in his voice even though his eyes are closed.

I snuggle closer, pressing my forehead against his arm. “You’re not difficult. Well, not most of the time.”

He chuckles, low and soft. “Thanks.”

We fall into another comfortable silence, and I can feel him drifting in and out of sleep, his breathing becoming more rhythmic. Every so often, I catch him mumbling something incoherent, and it only makes me smile more. It’s rare to see him like this—so completely relaxed, vulnerable in a way that’s sweet and unguarded.

I press another kiss to his shoulder, savoring the warmth and closeness between us. “Sleep, James. I’ll be right here.”

“Mhm,” he hums, already half-asleep again, „you okay?“

„Yes, I‘m good“, I whisper, stroking his back.

It’s not long before he’s fully out, his breathing deep and steady. I stay there for a while, just watching him, feeling his warmth, and soaking in the quiet moments between us. Alistair might’ve worn him out, but I get to reap the benefits—endless sleepy snuggles, his strong arms draped lazily around me even as he drifts off.

I close my eyes, resting my cheek against his arm, and let myself relax too. We’ve been through so much lately, but right now, it’s easy. It’s soft, warm, and good. And after everything, that’s more than enough.

James

Tuesday rolls around, and despite being sore from yesterday’s lacrosse practice, I feel lighter than I have in weeks. Ruby’s been... good . And seeing her laugh again, even if it’s at my expense, feels like we’re finally breaking through that cloud. There’s still so much to talk about, but for now, this feels like a small win. So, I decide to do what I used to—send her a few texts throughout the day. Nothing serious, just something to make her smile. It’s been too long since I’ve been the reason for that kind of smile.

8:13 AM

**Me:** Hope your Monday is treating you better than my legs are treating me right now. I might never walk again.

8:14 AM

**Ruby:** You sure it’s your legs and not just your pride?

*8:16 AM*  

**Me:** Definitely my legs. Pride is already dead and buried.

*8:18 AM*  

**Ruby:** Sounds like someone should’ve stretched after his little workout. What did Alistair do to you?

*8:20 AM*  

**Me:** He made sure I won’t be able to move for the next week. I think I’ve paid for every joke I’ve ever made at his expense. Maybe even a few I didn’t make yet.

*8:22 AM*  

**Ruby:** I think you deserved it. Also, what’s the emoji for “I told you so”? 

*8:23 AM*  

**Me:** Cold, Bell. Cold. My body is broken, and you mock me. 

*8:25 AM*  

**Ruby:** Oh, I’m absolutely mocking you. But I’ll allow a moment of sympathy… brief moment.  

I smile at my phone, imagining the smug little smirk she’s probably wearing right now. She’s good at this—keeping me in check with just the right amount of teasing to let me know I’m not getting away with anything. I decide to push my luck a little.

*9:12 AM*  

**Me:** So… how do you feel about sneaking into the alcove at lunch?  

*9:15 AM*  

**Ruby:** Oh? Are we going back to being high school rebels now?

*9:17 AM*  

**Me:** Just keeping traditions alive. For nostalgia’s sake, obviously. 

*9:19 AM*  

**Ruby:** Oh, obviously. And absolutely nothing to do with the fact that we can’t keep our hands off each other?

*9:20 AM*  

**Me:** Nothing at all. Purely academic purposes. Think of it as a study break.

There’s a long pause, and I’m about to send another message when my phone buzzes.

*9:23 AM*  

**Ruby:** I’ll allow it. But if we get caught, you’re the one explaining to the headmaster why we’re still sneaking around the alcove.  

I grin at the screen, already feeling anticipation buzz under my skin. It’s funny how the smallest moments—just a text, a shared joke—can make everything feel like it’s falling into place again.

*11:45 AM*  

**Me:** I’m heading there now. Hope you’re ready for your “study break.”

*11:47 AM*  

**Ruby:** If by “study break,” you mean giving you grief for being out of shape, then yes, I’m ready.

I shake my head, pocketing my phone as I make my way through the halls. By the time we’re both in the alcove, I’m smiling before she even steps into view.

She doesn’t waste any time, slipping into the narrow space with that familiar look of playful defiance. Before I can say anything, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to my lips.

“You know,” she murmurs against my mouth, “you are out of shape.”

I chuckle softly, wrapping my arms around her. “Maybe. But I think I’m still winning here.”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, there’s that spark between us, a warmth that feels like the lightest kind of relief. We don’t need to fill the moment with heavy words; we’ve had enough of those. Instead, I kiss her again, and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels easy.

*2:35 PM*  

**Ruby:** Okay, I’ll admit it—your distraction tactics are working. 

*2:37 PM*  

**Me:** Naturally. But I didn’t realize I needed to convince you of that.

*2:40 PM*  

**Ruby:** You might have. I’m stubborn, remember?

*2:42 PM*  

**Me:** One of your finest qualities. But maybe I’ll have to remind you again tomorrow. Same time? Same place?

*2:44 PM*  

**Ruby:** It’s a date.

The rest of the afternoon drifts by, lighter than it’s been in a long time. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re turning a corner, even if it’s a small one. I think back to the last few weeks—the weight of everything we’ve been through, how we were both struggling to find our way through it. And now, even if it’s just in these small, stolen moments, it feels like we’re finding our way back.

3:22 PM

**Me:** How’s your afternoon going? Anything exciting happen?

3:23 PM

**Ruby:** Well, someone sent me a bunch of distracting texts. But other than that, same old Tuesday. You?

3:24 PM

**Me:** Alistair’s threatening to “train” me again this week. I think he’s enjoying this way too much.

3:24 PM

**Ruby:** Oh, I’m sure he is. Should I be worried?

3:25 PM

**Me:** Nah. If I survive, I’ll just use it as an excuse to get more massages from you.

3:27 PM

**Ruby:** I see your plan now… and I approve. Though, I think I’m the one winning here. More sleepy snuggles.

3:28 PM

**Me:** You’ve always been winning, Ruby. Always.

Ruby

I’m a little nervous when I tell James I won’t be heading home with him after school. The way he raises an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in his eyes, almost makes me laugh. Almost.

“Got a date with Alistair,” I say lightly, trying to keep the mood easy.

He smirks. “Should I be worried?”

“No. Just make sure he’s not torturing you today again,” I tease back, though my heart is a little heavier than I let on. Alistair and I… we’ve never really talked about what happened that night. He was there, through everything, and yet somehow we’ve skirted around it, always too busy deflecting or joking our way through conversations. But I know he deserves more. We both do.

___

“Cozy, huh?” Alistair says, dropping his bag on the couch and flopping down with a casualness I can’t help but envy. “Figured we’d need somewhere Ember-free for this chat.”

I laugh, more out of nerves than anything. "Yeah, I don’t think this is a conversation for her to overhear.”

Alistair gives me a long look, his usual teasing grin absent. “You’ve been thinking about it too, huh?”

I sit down, fidgeting with my hands for a second before answering. “Yeah… I mean, we were all in it together, but you and I… we never really talked about it.”

He leans back, his eyes narrowing as if he’s turning something over in his mind. “No, we didn’t. Maybe that’s my fault. I’m not great at the heavy stuff, you know?”

I nod. “Same. But I think we need to.”

Alistair is silent for a moment, then he lets out a slow breath. “That night—when I drove over there. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat, but God help me, I’d rather spend a weekend with my family going through the family tree…” His voice trails off, and I can see the weight of the memory in his eyes as he continues.

“I was scared. Like, really scared. I didn’t know what to do, and James was… James was a wreck. He was broken. And I’m sitting there, trying to keep it together, trying to be the strong one for him, but honestly? I was out of my depth.”

I swallow hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I didn’t know what to do either,” I admit softly. “But you were there, and that mattered.”

Alistair meets my gaze, something raw and unguarded in his expression. “I want to apologize to you, Ruby. Because I knew what he was planning. The whole thing with Mortimer, going to confront him. James didn’t want you to know, and I didn’t tell you either. I’m sorry for that.”

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t apologize. You were loyal to him, and I’m glad he had you. If you hadn’t been there…” My voice falters for a moment, but I push through. “I’m just glad he wasn’t alone.”

He rubs the back of his neck, letting out a small, shaky laugh. “You know, I’ve never told anyone how that night felt. Driving with him… I was terrified. And when we got to Ophelia’s, and he just… collapsed, I didn’t know what to do. But you did.”

I blink, surprised by the intensity in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Alistair leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on me. “You were holding him, Ruby. He was out cold from the meds, clinging to you, and you were just... there, holding him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. It reminded me of a Pietà, you know? But not marble. Alive. Two people I care about more than I can even explain, and all I could think was how much strength you have to be there for him in the way you were.”

His words hit me harder than I expect, and I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “I didn’t feel strong,” I whisper. “I just… I couldn’t let him go.”

“And that’s why you’re incredible, Ruby. What you and James have? It’s something else. And I want you to know, I’m not just in his corner. I’m in yours too.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check, but it’s hard when Alistair is looking at me like that—so serious, so sincere. I’ve never seen him like this before, and it makes me realize just how much he’s been carrying too.

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

Alistair smiles, that familiar warmth creeping back into his expression. “You two are stuck with me. For life. Whether you like it or not.”

I laugh, the sound shaky but real. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Alistair’s openness stirs something in me, something raw that I’ve been holding back for too long. With him sitting there, so serious and caring, I feel like I can finally say some of the things I’ve been bottling up. It’s terrifying, but I think it’ll be good to share it with—well, not just someone, but Alistair.

“We had a breakthrough this weekend,” I begin, my voice soft but steady. “It was good for us, really good. But there’s still something else.” My voice falters for a second. “I’ve been feeling… off lately. Like everything’s piling up, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Alistair’s eyes soften, his usual sharp wit on pause. “What do you mean, off? Is it because of everything with James, or…?”

I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, that’s part of it. We had a lot to talk through, and it was such a relief to let some of it go. But I’ve been tired, Alistair. Like, all the time. It feels like I’m running on empty, even when things are okay. This weekend… it helped, but these last weeks… I don’t know. I’ve been on edge, always close to feeling overwhelmed, and I didn’t want James to see that because he’s been going through so much already.”

Alistair frowns, taking my words seriously. “Ruby, you don’t have to carry everything for him. He’s strong, yeah, but so are you. And maybe, just maybe, you’re allowed to be tired too.”

His words sink in, but they don’t immediately make it easier. I sigh, rubbing my temples. “I know. But it’s like… I’m supposed to be his rock, you know? He leans on me, and I’m happy to be there for him, but lately, I just… I don’t know. I feel guilty for feeling this way. Like I should be stronger.”

Alistair leans forward, fixing me with that piercing gaze of his, the one that doesn’t let you hide. “You’re not supposed to be a superhero. You’re human. And humans get tired, they burn out, and sometimes they need someone else to carry the load for a bit.”

I blink, not expecting that from him. Alistair, the eternal prankster, the guy who’s always cracking jokes, is being so serious, so insightful. It hits me harder than I thought it would.

“But what if I’m not enough?” I say quietly. “What if I can’t keep up with everything he needs?”

Alistair shakes his head, his expression soft but firm. “That’s not how love works, Ruby. You’re more than enough for him. Hell, you’re everything to him. But you can’t be his entire world every second of every day. It’s okay to let him see that you’re struggling too. He’s not going to think less of you. If anything, it’ll probably make him love you more, if that’s even possible. And I’ll tell you something: I think you two need to let more people into your bubble. We’re all here, Ruby. Let’s do things together. Something fun. Or talking. Or both.”

I feel a lump in my throat, the weight of his words settling in. I’ve been so afraid of not being strong enough, of not being the constant support James needs, but maybe I’ve been looking at it all wrong. Maybe being vulnerable isn’t a weakness.

Alistair sees the shift in my expression and smiles gently. “You know, you two have something real. Something that most people don’t even get close to. And that’s because you’re honest with each other. You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You just have to be there.”

I blink, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. “Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

Alistair stands up, offering me his hand. “Come here,” he says softly. “How about we get a group together? Movie night at Ophelia’s? I’ll organize it—don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. Let’s get everyone together and just… be .”

I take his hand, letting him pull me into a hug. It’s warm, grounding. It’s not something I expect from Alistair, but I realize now that he’s more than the sarcastic guy who’s always teasing James. He’s got so much depth, and he’s got heart.

Just as I’m about to pull away, the door swings open, and I hear a voice that makes me jump.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?”

I turn to see Elaine standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on her lips. Alistair tenses for a moment before rolling his eyes.

“Elaine,” he says with a sigh, pulling back from the hug but keeping his arm draped casually over my shoulder. “You’ve got impeccable timing.”

Elaine crosses her arms, still smirking. “Don’t I always?”

Elaine’s entrance is awkward for more reasons than one, and as she stands there in the doorway with that knowing smirk, I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down. 

Alistair, though, is completely unfazed. 

“You know Ruby, right? Ruby, still my sister Elaine,” he says in that casual, nonchalant tone of his. “In case the introductions weren’t clear before. And please, spare yourself the embarrassment—still as gay as they come.”

Elaine arches an eyebrow at him, unfazed by his sarcasm. “You never let me have any fun, do you, Alistair?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis, “because it’s too dangerous. Can’t trust you not to make things weird.”

Elaine rolls her eyes, then lets her gaze settle on me. Her expression shifts slightly, becoming more serious. “Our father wants to see you. And Alistair, of course.”

My stomach drops. Harold Ellington? Alistair’s father? The Earl? Why would he want to see me?

Alistair sighs heavily, like this is the last thing he needs right now. “Of course, he does,” he mutters. “Can’t a guy just get through one day without the Earl summoning him?”

I glance between the two of them, feeling completely out of my depth. “Why would he… why does he want to see me?”

Elaine’s eyes narrow slightly as if she’s assessing me. “He didn’t say. Just told me to fetch you both.”

Alistair lets out a dry laugh. “Well, Ruby, I’d say don’t worry too much. Father’s an old, white stiff-upper-lip prick, but he’s not Mortimer-level-evil. You can relax.”

The comparison makes my stomach twist again, but Alistair’s tone, so casual and dismissive, does help. I try to focus on his words, on the reassurance buried under the layers of sarcasm, but it’s hard. The idea of meeting Harold Ellington, especially after everything that’s happened recently, feels overwhelming. 

My mind is racing, thinking of all the possibilities—why would he want to see me? What could he possibly want? But before I can spiral too far, Alistair gives me a small, supportive squeeze on the shoulder.

“Trust me,” he says quietly, “it’s probably something mundane and not nearly as dramatic as it feels right now. He’s more bark than bite.”

I nod, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t ease.

Alistair

Walking down the hall with Ruby, I can feel the tension in her step. She knows my father was involved in that night, and it’s still not something easy to face. Hell, it’s not easy for me either. But this is Harold Ellington we’re talking about—Earl, MP, and professional stiff-upper-lip enigma. So I have no idea what to expect.

When we enter the room, Father’s by the fireplace, as composed as ever. Ruby holds herself steady beside me, calm but sharp-eyed. She’s been briefed on the plan, knows Father’s role in what went down, but this meeting? This is uncharted territory.

"Ruby. Alistair," he greets us, nodding, but there’s something different in his tone. Less formal. Less... him. For a second, I think he’s actually nervous, which is something I’d never have thought possible.

"I owe you an apology," he starts, his voice quieter than I’m used to. "And an explanation."

Ruby’s silent, watching him like she’s waiting to see if he’ll actually own up to anything real. I can feel her barely-contained energy, like a bowstring pulled taut. 

Father clears his throat, glancing at me as if I should step in. Not a chance. This one’s all him. "I was part of the plan James and Alistair put together. The fake appointment that brought me to Mortimer’s house that night... it wasn’t by accident. It was all arranged." He pauses, as if still a bit unsettled by how it played out. "I walked in just as Mortimer was... well, breaking James’s ribs."

The words land heavily in the room, and for once, Father looks genuinely uncomfortable. "I pulled him off. I—handled him, while Alistair and Percy got James out of there. I regret that I didn’t see it sooner."

At that, Ruby’s eyes narrow slightly, and I know what’s coming. She’s not going to let him slide by with regret alone. 

I almost feel bad for Father. Almost.

“You didn’t want to see it,” Ruby says, her voice clear, slicing through the room like a scalpel. “You didn’t want to see it because it was more convenient not to. Because Mortimer was your friend, your business partner, someone from your world. You chose not to see it because that was easier. Because that’s what you people do, isn’t it?”

Father’s eyes widen slightly. He’s not used to this, to being called out so directly. I can’t remember a time anyone spoke to him this way, least of all in his own house.

“Never talk, never explain, never complain,” Ruby continues, her voice steady and sharp. “But that’s not good enough. You don’t get to regret not knowing, because you did know. You just didn’t act. You didn’t want to. You can apologize for that. For being a witness, an enabler, for letting this happen, for decades.”

The silence in the room is almost unbearable. I glance at Father, and for the first time in my life, he looks... lost. Like he genuinely doesn’t know what to say. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then just nods, a slow, reluctant nod of acknowledgment. “You’re right,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re absolutely right.”

There’s a beat, a strange, loaded pause, and then he straightens up slightly, trying to regain some composure. “I’d like to invite you to dinner. With James, if he’s willing. And you, of course, Alistair.”

Ruby’s face doesn’t change, not even a flicker. “I won’t come if James doesn’t want to,” she says, her tone flat, leaving no room for negotiation. And without another word, she turns on her heel and walks out, leaving my father standing there, looking like someone just pulled the rug out from under him.

I wait a beat, grinning to myself, then follow her out into the hallway. As we walk, I lean in, whispering, “You know, no one’s ever talked to Father like that before.”

Ruby doesn’t answer, but the small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her mouth says it all. Behind us, Father’s still probably standing there, trying to process what just happened.

James

The first text message arrives just as I begin to wonder when Ruby will be home.

Alistair:

Mate, I want a front row seat when Ruby becomes Prime Minister. Seriously, she just verbally destroyed my father.

James:

Wait, what? What happened?

I thought she was just going over to talk to you.

Alistair:

Yeah, she did. We had a good talk. But then my sister—your former fling , by the way, in case you forgot—barged in and told Ruby my father wanted to see her.

And... Ruby didn’t hold back.

James:

Elaine was there? And your dad ? You’re seriously telling me Ruby just had a face-off with your father ?!

Alistair:

Yep. And you should’ve seen it. Your girl just called him out for... well, for being his usual stiff upper lip prick self. She said he didn’t see the abuse because it was convenient for him not to. Because Mortimer was his friend, his business partner. And then she dropped this line about him being an enabler and a witness for decades.

It was brutal. She didn’t blink. I’ve never seen him so... rattled.

James:

Bloody hell. I didn’t think anyone could rattle your dad.

What did he do?

Alistair:

Honestly? He looked like he’d just been sucker-punched. He apologized. Wants to meet you guys for dinner.She told him flat out: “I won’t come for dinner unless James wants to.” Dropped the mic and walked out. I had to pick my jaw off the floor.

James:

This is wild. I don’t even know what to say.

Alistair:

I know what to say. Marry her. Fast. You won’t survive without her.

Oh, and when she’s Prime Minister, make sure I get a cushy ambassador gig. Somewhere tropical.

James:

Done. But seriously, are you okay? 

Alistair:

Oh, I’m fine. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it was weird. Father’s never been one to admit mistakes, let alone have someone call him out like that. But it was a long time coming. Ruby was right, and someone had to say it.  

Also, watching him get put in his place by someone he probably underestimated? Worth every second.

I’m just processing the fact that I’ve never seen anyone stand up to him like that. Not even me.

James:

Well, if anyone could do it, it’s Ruby.

I‘ll talk to her when she gets back, see how she’s feeling.

Alistair:

Yeah, do that. But trust me, she was on fire. Don’t worry about her—she’s more than handling it.

Also, can we just appreciate that she’s definitely the one wearing the trousers in your relationship?

James:

Don’t I know it?

Ruby

I step out of the Rolls Royce, the door closing with a soft thud behind me. James is already there, leaning casually against the garden gate, arms crossed, his hair catching in the last of the day's light. He gives me this look—a mix of amusement and concern that makes me want to both laugh and sigh in relief. 

“So,” he says, pushing off the gate and coming toward me, “too busy destroying Ellington to take the bus, huh?”

I can’t help but laugh, rolling my eyes as I step into his embrace. “I knew Alistair would blab the second I left,” I say, pressing my forehead against his chest.

He chuckles, holding me close, his chin resting on the top of my head. “You know him too well. Are you okay, though?”

I nod into his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of him—home, warmth, comfort. “I’m fine. Really.” I pull back slightly to look up at him. “I just… I didn’t expect it to turn into that kind of conversation. I thought I was just going to talk to Alistair, not—” I gesture back toward the car. “All of that. ”

His thumb strokes my cheek, a small gesture that makes everything feel okay again. “Alistair said you handled it like a pro. I’m not surprised.”

“Handled it maybe. But now I’m worried about you.” I search his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. “Do you… want to do this dinner? I mean, with your history, with everything involving his father, I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

James shakes his head, giving me that soft, crooked smile that makes me feel like the rest of the world can wait. “Relax, Ruby. We’re not deciding that today. We can talk about it when we’re both ready.” He leans down and kisses my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Right now, let’s just get through dinner with your family. Deal with the Earl later.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, nodding. “Okay. We’ll take it one thing at a time.”

He grins and tugs me toward the house. “One thing at a time, starting with getting inside before my stomach makes a scene.”

I laugh again, the tension easing out of me. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we don’t have to figure everything out tonight. Right now, it’s enough that we’re together.

*****

James

The house is quiet as I close the door behind us, but I can’t stop the grin that’s been playing at the corners of my mouth since dinner. I wasn’t even there, and I’m still buzzing. Alistair’s texts, his description of Ruby standing there, facing off against Harold Ellington like it was nothing? It’s got my heart racing in the best possible way.

Ruby pulls off her sweater, tossing it onto the chair, and I just stand there, leaning against the door, arms crossed. “You know,” I start, voice low but teasing, “I didn’t even see it happen, but hearing about you verbally destroying an Earl? That’s sexy as fuck.”

She turns to me, eyebrow raised, that smirk creeping onto her face. “Oh? Sexy, huh?” She’s playing along, but there’s a glint in her eyes that tells me she’s more than a little pleased with herself.

I push off the door, walking toward her, my hands sliding to her waist as I pull her against me. “Alistair couldn’t shut up about it. Kept going on about how you didn’t flinch. Didn’t hold back.” I lean in, pressing a kiss just below her ear, my voice dropping lower. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She laughs softly, her fingers tracing over my chest, but I can feel her heartbeat picking up. “I wasn’t exactly going for sexy when I was telling off Ellington.”

“Well, you nailed it anyway,” I murmur against her skin, trailing kisses down her neck. “I mean, just imagining you standing there, tearing him apart with your words, made me wish I’d been a fly on the wall.”

She chuckles, her hands slipping into my hair, pulling me closer. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispers, but there’s a softness to her voice that tells me she’s enjoying this.

I gently push her toward the bed, half playful, half serious. “You don’t even realize, do you?” I grin, starting to pull my shirt off as I follow her. “Hearing you put someone like Ellington in his place? I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of you. Give me ten seconds of sounding patronizing. But I still think I need to show you exactly how sexy that is.”

She tilts her head, giving me that half-challenging, half-amused look. “Oh, yeah? You’re going to show me, are you?”

I crawl over her as she falls back into the pillows, my lips brushing against hers as I murmur, “Definitely. I owe you for making me fall for you all over again without even being there to see it.”

Her laughter is soft, breathless, as her hands slide over my back, pulling me closer. “So you’re just hearing about it second-hand and you’re still this worked up?”

“Yup,” I whisper against her lips, grinning. “And trust me, if I’d been there, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

The rest of the world falls away as we move together, her laughter soft in the quiet of the house. It’s playful, tender, our whispered banter slipping into something more. I’m just caught up in her—proud, in awe, and so damn grateful that she’s mine.

And tonight, I’m going to make sure she knows just how much that means to me.

The moment I’m on top of her, the world fades away, leaving just Ruby and me in our own little universe. I take my time, savoring the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips, the way her body responds to every kiss, every caress. I want to make this last, to let her feel every ounce of affection I have for her.

As I brush my lips over hers, I feel her smile against my mouth, and it’s infectious. I pull back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. All I see is warmth and desire, and it makes my heart race.

“Ready?” I ask, my voice low and teasing, and she nods, biting her lip in that way that drives me wild.

I start with gentle kisses, tracing my way down her jaw, over her neck, taking my time as my hands explore her curves. I can feel her breathing hitch, can sense the way she’s getting lost in the moment. The house is quiet, but the air between us is thick with anticipation. I know we need to be mindful of the noise; I don’t want to disrupt the peace of the Bell household.

When I settle between her thighs, I pause, looking up at her, my fingers gliding over her sides. “You’re okay?” I whisper, and she nods, her eyes dark with want. 

As I move lower, my lips trailing down her body, her hands thread through my hair, urging me on. I’m careful, coaxing her body to respond to mine, working her up slowly, deliberately. When she starts to tremble beneath me, her breath catching as pleasure floods her, I pull back slightly and look up at her.

“Shh,” I tease, voice low. “You’ll need to be quiet or I’ll stop.” 

She bites her lip, eyes narrowing playfully as her legs tighten around me in response. But she tries—her soft gasps turning into muffled whimpers as I continue, my mouth working in rhythm with the movement of my hands. 

When she finally comes, her body shaking, I rise to meet her again, hovering over her as she fights to keep the sounds inside. But as soon as I press into her, that restraint unravels. Her lips part in a moan that she barely manages to stifle. My hand is quick, covering her mouth gently, my thumb brushing over her lips. 

I lock eyes with her, watching the surprise flash in her gaze, but she melts into the sensation. The sight of her — silenced and yet unable to stop the way her body responds — undoes me. There’s a thrill in keeping this moment private, quiet, as if it’s just us against the world.

“You feel incredible,” I whisper, kissing her shoulder, her collarbone, as I move within her. She gasps against my palm, her body arching toward mine. 

“More,” she tries to say, the word barely a murmur beneath my hand, and I give her what she needs. The way she moves against me, desperate and unguarded, pulls me deeper into the moment. I cover her with kisses, her skin warm beneath my lips, and she clings to me as I take her over the edge again.

I let her moans spill out just as we both reach that place where nothing else matters. When we collapse into each other, the air is thick with the quiet aftermath, soft breaths and the beat of our hearts. I brush a strand of hair from her face, feeling the warmth of her skin under my fingertips.

“James…” she breathes, her voice still heavy with satisfaction, and it’s enough to make me smile, to know I’ve given her this — us, this peace in the middle of everything else.

We settle back into the sheets, her head resting on my chest, my arm wrapped around her. The room is quiet, just the sound of our breathing and the occasional creak of the house settling. Her fingers trace lazy circles on my skin, and I feel the weight of sleep tugging at me.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, kissing the top of her head. “You alright?” I murmur, my voice low.

“Mhm,” she hums, snuggling in closer. “More than alright.”

I can’t help but smile, my thumb brushing over her shoulder. “You look exhausted.”

She gives a soft laugh, already half asleep. “Your fault,” she mutters, her words slurring as she slips further into the haze of sleep.

“Blaming me, are you?” I tease, but there’s no heat in it. I’m too spent to even pretend.

“Always,” she whispers, her voice fading. I feel her body go heavy against mine, completely relaxed now.

I chuckle softly, holding her a little tighter. “Goodnight, love.”

But she’s already gone, out like a light, her breath steady and calm. I close my eyes, the warmth of her next to me pulling me under. No worries, no tension, just us. And with that, I let sleep take me too, a peaceful, dreamless kind.

Chapter Text

Ember

Alistair’s pacing again, and I can’t help but smile as I watch him. He’s taking this movie night way too seriously, but that’s Alistair for you—always determined to make things perfect, especially when it comes to his friends. I lean on the back of the couch, arms crossed, enjoying his frustration.

“We need something everyone can enjoy, right? No tragic love stories, no death at the end, and nothing too close to home,” he says, almost like he’s thinking out loud.

“Right,” I agree, though I can already see where this is going. “Which means we’re eliminating about 90% of cinema.”

He shoots me a look, and I bite back a laugh. I know he’s stressed, but I can’t resist teasing him a little. “How about *Romeo and Juliet*?”

He freezes mid-scroll, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Seriously? Star-crossed lovers, family feud, everyone dies?”

I shrug. “It’s a classic.”

Alistair rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, well, we’re not reenacting James and Ruby’s love life. No *Romeo and Juliet*.”

I laugh. He’s got a point. “Okay, fine. What about Titanic ?”

That earns me a dramatic sigh. “Oh sure, another classic. Boy meets girl, they fall in love, and—wait for it—the guy dies.”

I can’t help but grin at how ridiculous this is. “Okay, okay. I see your point. Titanic is out.”

Alistair goes back to scrolling, muttering to himself, and I sit down on the couch, folding my legs underneath me. This whole thing is kind of ridiculous, but I have to admit, it’s nice seeing him so invested in something lighthearted for a change. He’s always got this weight on his shoulders, like he has to take care of everyone. It’s sweet, really, but it’s a lot for one person.

“How about something newer?” I suggest. “Marriage Story?”

He doesn’t even look up. “Have you seen that film? Divorce and endless emotional turmoil. We’re trying to lighten the mood here, not sink into an abyss.”

I laugh. “Okay, fair. That’s a no.”

Alistair stops pacing for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. I can tell he’s really thinking about this, wanting to get it just right. “What about Knives Out? It’s a murder mystery, but it’s fun. No doomed romance.”

He considers it, nodding slowly. “That could work. It’s got humor, twists... but, is a murder mystery still too much? You know, given all the drama we’ve been through?”

I think about it. “It’s lighthearted enough. The stakes are high, but no one’s going to start crying over it. Plus, it’s fun to figure out the twists.”

He adds it to his mental list. “Alright, that’s one option.”

We go back and forth for a while, tossing out ideas, most of them shot down for one reason or another. I suggest Spider-Man: No Way Home , half as a joke, but Alistair actually considers it for a second before dismissing it for being too complicated.

Eventually, I throw out Free Guy. Ryan Reynolds, video games, ridiculous action—it’s about as far from tragic love stories as you can get.

Alistair brightens. “That could work. It’s funny, it’s modern, and no one’s going to end the night in tears.”

I nod, feeling like we’ve finally hit on something. “Yeah, and it’s got heart without being too heavy. I think people will enjoy it.”

He sits down next to me, relieved. “Okay, we’ve got Free Guy and Knives Out. Not bad.”

I smile, leaning back into the couch. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Alistair grins at me, and for a second, I see the playful side of him that’s been missing lately. “We’re still not watching The Greatest Showman, though. I refuse.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. No tragic love stories, no cheating, no death. That’s the rule.”

He chuckles, and it feels good to hear that sound. He’s always looking out for everyone, always carrying the weight. But for tonight, at least, we’ve got something that will make us all laugh.

And honestly? That’s all we really need right now.

Ophelia

The early summer air is warm as we sit outside on the patio, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the oak tree nearby. There’s a light breeze, enough to keep the afternoon comfortable, and the scent of freshly bloomed roses drifts from the garden. I glance at James, who’s sitting across from me, legs stretched out, looking more at ease than I’ve seen him in months.

There’s something lighter about him today. He’s smiling more, his body language open, his face softer in the golden light. Still, as I watch him, I can’t help but notice the shadows that linger behind his eyes. They’re not as deep as they used to be, but they’re still there. 

“Feels good out here,” he says, tilting his head back slightly, letting the sunlight warm his face.

“It does,” I agree, pouring tea into both our cups. “You look well, James. Better.”

He glances at me with a smile, something real behind it. “I feel better. I guess... Ruby’s been helping a lot with that.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but I can tell how much weight those words carry for him. 

There’s that shift again, the way his entire demeanor softens when he mentions her. Ruby’s name always brings out this subtle transformation—like a light switch being flicked on in a dark room. I smile at him, handing him his cup of tea.

“I’m glad,” I say simply. “She’s good for you.”

He takes the cup, nodding, and we sit in a comfortable silence for a while. The birds are chirping, and the soft rustle of leaves fills the space between us. James leans back in his chair, gazing out over the garden. 

“I’ve been thinking,” I begin, watching him carefully. “I know things have been… a lot. But I’ve found someone who might be able to help you, James. A therapist.”

His brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t tense up like I thought he might. He turns to me, curiosity more than resistance in his eyes.

“In London,” I continue. “Someone discreet, someone who understands the need for privacy. His office is in a large building—lawyers, financial advisors, a dentist, all kinds of professionals. No one would know why you’re there.”

I let the words hang for a moment before adding, “His name is Dr. Hammond. He doesn’t do psychoanalysis. He works with something called Narrative Exposure Therapy, NET. It’s not about diving into the past over and over, but more about understanding your story and finding a way to move forward.”

James is quiet, his gaze drifting from me to the garden. I wait, giving him the space to process, watching as his fingers trace the edge of the teacup. After a moment, he lets out a breath, almost like a sigh, and I see the familiar tension return, just for a moment.

“I don’t need someone to tell me why I’m messed up,” he says, but there’s no bitterness, only a quiet acknowledgment. Then, he surprises me by shaking his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “Sorry. That was... unnecessary.”

I smile softly. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, James.”

He shifts in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready to dive into all that. Not right now.”

“You don’t have to decide immediately,” I reassure him. “But I wanted you to know that the option’s there, when you’re ready.”

He nods, thoughtful. I can see him weighing the decision, thinking it over more seriously than he might have months ago. “When would I start? I’ve got finals coming up soon, just a few weeks away.”

“You could start after finals, if that feels better,” I offer, watching his face closely.

James is silent for a moment, looking out toward the garden again. I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind, the way he’s working through it. Finally, he nods, his voice soft but steady. “After finals. I think that’d be best.”

I let out a quiet breath, relieved. “Good. And in the meantime, you’ll be okay?”

He glances at me, a shadow of vulnerability flickering in his eyes before he catches it. “Yeah,” he says, almost too casually, then adds more honestly, “I’ve got Ruby. And her parents, too. They’ve been... really good to me.”

When he mentions Ruby, that shift happens again, subtle but undeniable. His whole face softens, his shoulders relax, and for a moment, he’s not the boy weighed down by all the history and pain. He’s just James. A young man in love, finding his way.

“I can see that,” I say, my voice gentle. “She brings out something good in you.”

His smile is small, almost shy, but there’s peace in it. “Yeah, she does.”

We sit for a while longer, sipping our tea, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The shadows grow longer, but the lightness remains between us. James is still carrying those old wounds, but there’s hope there now—something that wasn’t there before.

I reach out and lightly squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out, James. You’re not alone in this.”

He glances at me, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thanks, Ophelia. I’ll be okay.” 

And as we sit together in the fading sunlight, I believe him. Little by little, he’s finding his way back to himself.

As we sit in the warm, late afternoon sun, the garden quiet except for the distant hum of bees and the soft rustling of leaves, the door opens, and Ruby steps out onto the patio. Her eyes sweep the space, landing first on James, then flicking to me with a soft smile.

“There you are,” she says, her voice light. “I was looking for you.”

James looks up, his face instantly transforming—shoulders relaxing, that quiet ease settling over him like a well-worn jacket. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer when he speaks to her.

Ruby crosses over to us, barefoot on the warm stone, and James shifts instinctively, making room for her beside him without even a word. She slides into the space next to him, curling into his side like she belongs there. He doesn’t hesitate, his arm slipping around her waist, pulling her close. It’s an effortless movement, a natural fit, as if the two of them have been doing this for years.

Watching them, I can’t help but feel a swell of quiet pride, but there’s something else too—a soft ache. James reminds me so much of his mother in these moments, the way he’s protective without being overbearing, the way his presence alone seems to settle Ruby. My sister had that same gift, before Mortimer suffocated that. She could make you feel seen, cared for, without needing to say much at all. It’s remarkable how, even with all that’s happened, that part of him remains intact.

James leans down slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of Ruby’s head. “You done with Lydia already?”

Ruby chuckles, tilting her head back to look up at him. “She’s still upstairs with Ember. I needed a break from all the baby planning.” Her eyes dance as she speaks, a teasing light in them. “But they’re determined to involve me anyway, so I think I’ll be roped back in soon.”

James grins, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her arm. “Good luck with that.”

Ruby rolls her eyes playfully, but she’s smiling, settling further into his embrace. I watch them, the way they so easily fall into conversation, the teasing back and forth. It’s such a simple thing, the way they banter and laugh, but it’s clear how much it means to them both. Ruby brings out a lightness in James, a warmth that I hadn’t seen in him for so long.

For a moment, James catches my eye, and I see it—how much Ruby means to him, how she’s become his anchor in a way I don’t think even he fully understands yet. It’s not just love; it’s deeper than that. She’s his safety, his home.

I offer him a small smile, a silent acknowledgment, and he nods, a brief flicker of gratitude passing between us. Then, as if the moment never happened, he turns his attention back to Ruby, teasing her about something with that familiar grin I hadn’t seen in so long.

It’s a beautiful thing, really, watching them like this. They’re still so young, both of them, but there’s a strength in their relationship that feels beyond their years. They’ve weathered storms together, more than most would ever face, and yet here they are, laughing, teasing, as if the weight of the world hasn’t touched them at all.

Ruby tilts her head, glancing over at me. “Ophelia, are we disturbing your quiet moment?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with that playful warmth.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Not at all, Ruby. I’m just enjoying the view.”

James raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “The view?”

I gesture to the two of them. “Yes, the view of you two. It’s a rare thing to witness something so genuine.”

Ruby blushes, ducking her head slightly, but I can see the pride in her eyes as she leans into James a little more. And James—he’s smiling in that quiet way of his, a little shy, but undeniably content, and maybe even a little proud..

It hits me then, how much James reminds me of my sister. That same gentle strength, that ability to calm without words. Sometimes it’s like seeing her again, in the way he moves, in the way he cares for Ruby. It’s bittersweet, but mostly it fills me with a quiet joy that in some ways the parts of her that were good once —before all this mess— are still here.

As I watch them, sitting there together in the golden light, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. They’ll be alright, these two. They have each other, and that’s more than enough.

Alistair

The moment we step into Ophelia’s place, I can already feel the energy lift. I rallied the troops, everyone’s with me, only James, Ember and Ruby came here earlier. Movie night is exactly what everyone needs, especially after everything we’ve been through. The house smells like popcorn, thanks to Lydia’s insistence on being in charge of snacks, and there’s a ridiculous amount of candy spread out on the table. She went all out, but then again, Lydia never does anything halfway.

"Are we watching or eating our way through the film?" I ask, eyebrow raised at the pile of sugar.

Lydia -- biggest belly I‘ve ever seen— grins, tossing a handful of Skittles into her mouth. “Both.”

I shake my head, but there’s a smile tugging at my lips. “Fair enough.”

Everyone starts settling in—the usual chaos of figuring out who’s sitting where. James and Ruby take the loveseat, obviously. I glance at them and catch the soft, content way Ruby leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Good. That’s good. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, making sure they’re alright after everything that went down with James’s father. They’re getting through it, but it’s been tough.

“Alright, Alistair. What cinematic masterpiece do we have lined up for the night?” Ember asks, plopping down on the couch with a smug look, knowing I stressed over this way too much.

I pretend to think about it for a second. “Well, I was thinking maybe Titanic . You know, light, breezy…”

Ruby throws a popcorn kernel at me, laughing. “I swear, if you make us sit through three hours of tragic romance, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Alright, alright, no Titanic,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender. “But what about Romeo and Juliet?”

Lin gives me an exasperated look. “Yes, because that’s the perfect vibe for tonight. Everyone dies, no one’s happy, and it’s basically a two-hour depression fest.”

“Wow, tough crowd,” I mutter, but I’m grinning. I love winding them up, especially Lin. She always takes the bait.

Eventually, I make a show of pulling the remote out, like it’s some kind of sacred artifact. “Alright, the real choice tonight is between Knives Out and Free Guy. Any objections?”

“ Free Guy !” Lydia shouts immediately, her voice echoing through the room like we’re at a concert instead of a chill movie night.

“Subtle as always, Lydia,” I say, chuckling as she throws a pillow in my direction. “Alright, Free Guy it is.”

I start the movie, and within minutes, everyone’s already laughing. Ryan Reynolds does his thing, and the ridiculousness of it all is exactly what we need—something fun, light, and just absurd enough to take our minds off everything else.

Kesh leans over from his spot on the floor, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “I mean, if I could just live in a video game, I think I’d be unstoppable.”

Wren smirks. “You’re already annoying enough in real life. Imagine you with extra lives.”

Kesh mock-gasps, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. “I take that as a compliment.”

I glance at James, who’s laughing softly at their banter, and then at Ruby, who’s practically glowing next to him. She looks lighter tonight, more at ease. Seeing that makes all the stress of organizing this worth it. 

Ember nudges me. “Good choice. They’re happy.”

I nod, knowing exactly what she means. “Yeah, they are.”

The movie rolls on, and there’s that familiar sense of ease with everyone together. Cyril starts making sarcastic comments about the plot, earning groans and a few more thrown snacks from the others, while Lin insists on pointing out every single Easter egg in the film.

By the time we’re halfway through, I’m sprawled out on the floor with a pillow under my head, watching the screen but also keeping an ear out for the random conversations happening around me. Kesh‘s head is resting on my tummy, his feet are resting on the sofa, and he’s casually holding my hand, while he’s arguing with Wren about which power-up would be the best to have in real life, and James and Ruby are whispering to each other, looking like they’re in their own little world. 

It’s all good, though. This is what we needed—a night to just exist, without the weight of everything pressing down on us. 

When the credits roll, there’s a general murmur of satisfaction. Everyone’s in that half-tired, half-content state you only get after a good night with friends. 

“Alright, I vote Alistair organizes movie night every week,” Ember declares, stretching as she stands up.

“Seconded,” Ruby adds, shooting me a grin.

I put my hands up in protest. “Easy there. I’m not signing up for a lifetime of entertainment duty.”

Lydia comes over, handing me a bottle of water. “Come on, you love it. Don’t even pretend you don’t.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yeah, alright. But next time, someone else picks the movie.”

“Deal,” she says, and there’s a soft smile on her face as she looks around at everyone. 

It’s moments like this, these small, quiet times, that remind me why I stick around through all the drama and madness. We’re a mess, every single one of us, but we’re also a family. In the way that matters. 

And as long as we can keep laughing like this, I think we’re going to be just fine.

Lydia

After the movie ends, I linger in the kitchen with Ruby while the boys are still in the living room, trading their usual banter. The sound of their laughter carries through the house, and I can’t help but smile. It’s been such a long time since I’ve heard James sound like that—like he’s really here, not weighed down by everything. I think about how much has shifted in the past few months, how much has shifted for me, for all of us. 

I glance at Ruby, who’s sitting quietly on the counter, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. She looks tired, and I know it’s not just from tonight. James might be getting better, but I’ve been watching Ruby too, and I know her well enough to see that she’s been carrying more than she lets on.

“I made sure you two will sleep in a different room tonight,” I say gently, breaking the quiet. I’m not sure why, but I want her to know that I thought of that, that I’m looking out for her and for him.

She looks up at me, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you, Lydia. That means a lot.”

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment between us. There’s something unspoken that hovers there, something we’ve both avoided talking about until now. But we’ve been through too much together, and I won’t let her close herself off from me.

“So, how are you doing? Really?” I ask.

Ruby hesitates for a moment, as if she’s not sure where to start. “James is better,” she begins, and I can hear the relief in her voice. “He’s healing, you know? Slowly. It’s been...a process.”

I nod, listening, but then I gently place a hand on her arm, stopping her. “No, Ruby. How are you doing?”

Her eyes widen slightly, like she’s not used to someone asking her that. Like she doesn’t quite know how to answer.

For a moment, there’s silence, just the faint sounds of laughter from the living room. Ruby looks away, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt again, and I can see the tension in her shoulders. 

“I don’t really know,” she says quietly, almost like she’s admitting it to herself for the first time. “I’ve been so focused on James. On making sure he’s okay, that I just...I guess I have stopped to think about how I’m doing. And I only recently got that back. I‘m still figuring it out, to be honest.“

I give her a moment, watching as she takes a deep breath. There’s a weight to her words, a heaviness she’s been carrying alone for too long. 

“You don’t have to hold it all together for him, Ruby,” I say softly. “It’s okay to let yourself feel this, too.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the tears she’s been holding back, the vulnerability she’s hidden behind her care for James. “It’s just...it’s been so much, Lydia. Everything with Mortimer, with James almost—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard. “I didn’t know if I was going to lose him. And I didn’t even know what he was planning. I should’ve known. It took me some time to work through that. But James knows that.”

I stop her, pulling her into a hug. She stiffens at first, but then she melts into it, the tension finally leaving her. “You couldn’t have known. And you didn’t lose him. You’re here, together. That’s what matters.”

She nods against my shoulder, her breath shaky. I feel her start to relax, letting herself be held for once. And in this moment, I realize just how much Ruby has been holding up on her own.

After a while, she pulls back, wiping her eyes and giving me a watery smile. “You’re glowing,” she says, deflecting a little, but I let her. 

I laugh softly. “Pregnancy does that, I guess.”

She smiles at that, a real one this time, and I take a deep breath, feeling a warmth spread through me. It’s not just the pregnancy. It’s Graham. It’s Ophelia. It’s knowing that even after everything, I’ve found my way back to the people who matter most.

For a moment, we just sit in the quiet, sharing something unspoken but deeply understood between us. I feel lighter knowing that Ruby’s let some of her guard down with me, and I can tell she feels it too. 

“I’m always here, you can talk to me too. I know, James is my brother. But I‘m your friend too,” I remind her, and she nods.

“I know. And thank you.”

We both stand up then, and I can hear the boys still laughing in the other room, the sound of their voices so familiar and comforting. 

“Come on,” I say, nudging her toward the door. “Let’s go join them before they eat all the snacks.”

As we start to head back toward the living room, I stop and glance at Ruby, an idea suddenly crossing my mind. I’ve felt so much joy with this pregnancy, and I’ve been wanting to share it in little ways with the people I love. Ruby’s been a quiet, steady presence in my life, and I want her to feel that connection too.

"Hey, Ruby," I say, my voice soft as I place a hand on my belly. "Do you want to feel the babies?"

She looks at me, a bit surprised at first, but then her expression softens into something tender and curious. "Can I?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, smiling as I take her hand and guide it to my bump. "Of course."

We stand there for a moment, her hand warm and tentative on my belly, both of us waiting in the stillness. And then, like they know it’s time to make their presence known, one of the babies gives a firm, unmistakable kick. Ruby’s eyes widen, and she lets out a quiet laugh, her fingers pressing a little more firmly.

"Oh my God," she murmurs, looking at me with such wonder in her eyes. "That’s... they’re really in there."

I laugh softly, nodding. "Yep, they’ve been pretty active lately. Sometimes it feels like they’re trying to start a soccer game in there."

Ruby grins, keeping her hand where it is, waiting for more movement. A few seconds later, another little kick makes her gasp softly, and the amazement on her face is everything. 

"They’re strong," she says, her voice filled with awe.

"They are," I agree, my own hand resting beside hers. "It’s wild to think they’re already so real. Little people, with their own personalities and everything."

Ruby looks down at my belly, her face softening even more. "You’re going to be an amazing mom, Lydia."

I feel a warmth spread through me at her words, but there’s also something so grounding about this moment—about sharing this with her. I’ve always been protective of Ruby, but now it feels like we’re connected in a new way, like we’re both stepping into these new roles in our lives. 

"Thank you," I say quietly. "I hope so. It’s... a lot to think about, you know? But I’m ready for it. Or at least, I think I am."

Ruby looks up at me, her hand still resting gently on my bump. "You’ll be great. I can tell."

I smile at her, feeling that sense of sisterhood, of understanding. "And you’re going to be okay too, Ruby. I know things have been heavy, but you’re strong. You’ve got people who love you. And James... well, there’s never been a man more in love I think."

She smiles, a little shy, and I can see her blushing slightly. "Yeah, I know," she says softly, and there’s that softness in her voice again, like she’s still wrapping her head around everything. 

I watch her for a second longer before we both turn back toward the living room, the sounds of the boys’ laughter pulling us back to the present. But for now, we carry the weight of this shared moment between us, something quiet and beautiful.

James

I was halfway to the kitchen, thinking about grabbing another beer when I caught a glimpse of Ruby and Lydia standing by the doorway. I should have kept walking, given them their space, but something stopped me. Maybe it was the soft sound of their voices, or the way Ruby looked at Lydia’s belly, her hand resting gently on it, a look of awe in her eyes.

I pause, staying out of sight, leaning against the wall. Ruby’s never had that kind of look before — that mix of wonder and tenderness. I watch as Lydia laughs quietly, Ruby’s fingers brushing against her stomach like she’s afraid she might break something, but at the same time, so utterly fascinated by the life growing inside.

I can see the moment Lydia feels a kick. Her face lights up, and Ruby’s eyes widen with surprise and joy. I know that feeling. It’s the same look she had the first time I told her I loved her, or the first time we were truly together in that way. It’s that expression that always makes me feel like I could never deserve her, but I’d do anything to keep trying.

The two most important people in my life, right there, sharing something so intimate, so... pure. There’s a part of me that wants to step in, to be part of it, but this moment is theirs. And maybe it’s enough just to witness it — to see Ruby, who’s been carrying so much, smiling like that again. And Lydia, glowing with her pregnancy, looking so damn proud.

I swallow hard, feeling that gnawing sensation in my chest again. This strange mix of gratitude and guilt. Because it’s moments like these, when I see Ruby smiling, that remind me just how close I came to losing everything. And Lydia — after everything she’s been through, she deserves this happiness. I want to protect both of them from everything, even from myself sometimes.

Before they notice me, I slip away, heading back to the living room where the others are still joking around. The laughter is a welcome distraction, but even as I sit down, I can’t shake the image of Ruby’s face, her hand on Lydia’s belly, feeling the babies move. It’s a reminder, a grounding moment, that even in all this chaos, there’s life and love and something worth fighting for.

Chapter Text

It’s late by the time we all reluctantly head to bed. The night’s been full of laughter, teasing, and just... ease. I haven’t felt that kind of lightness in a while, not with everything weighing on us lately. But tonight, it was different. It was fun. Just friends, just being in the moment.

When Ruby and I walk upstairs, I’m expecting to head back to that room — the one I can’t look at without remembering. The room where everything went dark. But then Ruby leads me down a different hallway, to a quiet, tucked-away room far from the main wing. It’s like a weight lifts off my shoulders the moment we step inside. No ghosts of that night. No cramped space like at the Bells’ house, where every breath feels shared with her family. Just... space. Privacy.

I can tell Ruby feels it too. There’s this little smile she’s trying to hide, but I know her too well. The way her fingers tighten in mine as we close the door, the soft laugh that slips out when I nudge her towards the bed. 

We fall onto the mattress, and there’s no heaviness, no lingering tension between us tonight. Just us, the way we used to be before everything got so complicated. Before I made choices that hurt her. It’s been a long time since it felt this easy. 

"Think the bed’s big enough for all my moves?" I joke, raising an eyebrow at her. She rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing as she shoves me playfully.

"Your moves? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves," she teases back, her smile bright and full of life. 

I lean in, kissing her, feeling that familiar spark, but this time... this time, it’s different. It’s lighter. No weight of guilt, no fear of breaking her heart again. Just us, like we’re rediscovering what we’ve always had but were too scared to touch recently.

She laughs into my mouth when I kiss her again, the sound vibrating against my chest. I pull her closer, rolling onto my back, pulling her on top of me. 

"Careful, you’re gonna crush me," she says, but she’s grinning, her fingers running through my hair.

"Pretty sure you’re the one doing the crushing here," I shoot back, making her giggle. God, I’ve missed this. The way she laughs, the way she looks at me when we’re like this — free from everything else.

As soon as Ruby settles on top of me, I can’t help myself. “You know, if you stay like this, I’ll have to charge rent.” 

She narrows her eyes at me, fighting back a laugh. “Please, James. You should be paying me for the privilege.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” I grin, trying to sound cocky, but she’s got this look on her face that tells me she’s already winning this round.

She leans in, her lips just barely grazing mine as she whispers, “Yeah, and you’re in debt.”

I laugh, but before I can come up with a smart response, she pulls back, slipping her hands up my chest, and I swear, her fingers are driving me crazy. 

“Debt, huh? Guess I’ll have to work overtime.” I flip us over in one swift move, pinning her beneath me. She lets out a playful yelp, trying to wriggle free, but I’ve got her now. “I think I like being on top for a change.”

She raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “You always think you’re in charge. It’s cute, really.”

“Oh, is it now?” I tease, dipping my head to kiss her neck, trailing light kisses just to make her shiver. “Cute, huh?”

She chuckles, arching into me. “Well, cute compared to how you think you have the upper hand right now.”

I pause, smirking against her skin. “I mean, I am the one pinning you down.”

“Yeah, well…” Her legs wrap around my waist, and suddenly, she’s using the leverage to shift us again, flipping me onto my back with a triumphant grin. “Who’s in charge now, Beaufort?”

I blink up at her, a laugh bubbling out of my chest. “Okay, fine, point taken.”

She leans down, her lips brushing my ear. “You’re adorable when you surrender.”

“Adorable?” I mock gasp, and she’s laughing now, her forehead resting against mine. “I am not adorable. I’m—”

“Absolutely adorable with a capital A.” She’s grinning so wide, and I can’t help but laugh, the sound mingling with hers as I pull her back down for another kiss.

We keep going, but there’s this lightness between us now, like the air’s filled with something soft and easy. Every kiss is followed by some ridiculous joke, every touch by a teasing comment. I’m moving slowly, deliberately, and it’s driving her just the right kind of crazy. But every time I think I’ve gained the upper hand, she does something — a playful shove, a teasing kiss — that reminds me she’s always in control, no matter how many times I try to flip us over.

“Is this your plan?” I ask, my breath ragged as I trail kisses along her jaw, our clothes long gone. “Wear me out so I can’t fight back?”

She laughs again, breathless this time. “Maybe. Maybe I’m just making you work for it.”

I pull back slightly, grinning down at her. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Oh, I know.” She bites her lip, her eyes full of mischief. “But you love me for it.”

“I do,” I murmur, leaning in for another kiss, but this time it’s softer, a little slower. “More than you know.”

She pauses, and for a second, it’s like everything shifts. The playfulness between us fades, just for a moment, replaced by something deeper, something we don’t have to say out loud. Her hands slide up to cup my face, and when our eyes meet, there’s this quiet understanding between us.

“I know,” she whispers, and it’s not teasing anymore. It’s just... honest.

I smile softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Good.”

And then, just like that, the moment lightens again. She smirks, pushing at my chest. “Now, where were we? Oh, right. You surrendering.”

I laugh, tackling her under me once more, my mouth capturing hers before she can say anything else. We move together again, but this time there’s laughter mixed in with every kiss, every touch. It’s easy and messy and perfectly us. 

When she gasps and laughs, I can’t help but grin against her skin. “See? Told you I was in charge.”

She smacks my shoulder, breathless but still teasing. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Beaufort. I’ll let you have this one... for now.”

She’s moving against me as I finally enter her, slow and sure, and I’m trying my best to keep it together, but she knows exactly what she’s doing. Every time I think I’m close to taking control again, she shifts, adjusts, and I’m left breathless, trying to catch up.

“You’re struggling there, Beaufort,” she teases, her voice full of mischief as she leans down, her lips barely grazing mine. “You gonna give up yet?”

I groan, gripping her hips as she moves against me, but I know I’m losing. Fast. “Not... yet,” I manage, but it’s a lie. She knows it, I know it, and the grin on her face proves it.

“Oh, really?” she breathes, leaning back slightly, giving me just enough space to appreciate how much control she has in this moment. “You sure about that?”

I try to come up with some smart response, but the way she’s moving... the heat, the rhythm — I’m done for. My breath catches, and my grip on her tightens, like maybe that’ll keep me grounded. But it doesn’t. I’m right on the edge, and she’s right there with me, and I can’t hold back any longer. 

“I—” I start to say, but then it hits, and everything else falls away. My whole body tenses as I let go, and the last bit of resistance crumbles. “Okay... you win,” I gasp, the words spilling out as I surrender completely, the feeling crashing over me.

She’s laughing softly, her forehead resting against mine as she takes for herself what she wants,  and I can feel her still trembling against me. “Told you,” she whispers, her voice still full of that teasing victory. 

I’m breathless, grinning like an idiot as I run my hands over her back, pulling her close. “You’re evil.”

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “And you love it.”

“I love you ,” I murmur, my voice still a little shaky. “Even when you’re clearly winning.”

Her laugh is softer now, her lips brushing against mine in the gentlest of kisses. “Good. Because I’m not done winning.” 

And I laugh, too, completely wrapped up in her, in this moment, in the fact that even in surrender, I’ve never felt more sure of us.

——-

Later that night, after we’ve both settled, I’m still wide awake, my body humming with the leftover thrill of earlier. I glance over at Ruby, her face relaxed, half-asleep, and a wicked thought crosses my mind. I can’t let her win that easily.

Without a word, I shift under the sheets, sliding down her body until my lips brush against her thigh. She stirs, a soft hum escaping her as she realizes what I’m up to.

"James..." she murmurs, half-amused, half-warning.

But I’m already there, my mouth pressing soft, teasing kisses along her inner thigh. She gasps, her fingers threading into my hair, tugging just enough to let me know she’s aware, but not enough to stop me.

"I said I’d let you win," I murmur against her skin, kissing a little higher. "But... I don’t think I’m done yet."

She laughs breathlessly, her body already responding to my touch. "Oh, you’re playing dirty now, Beaufort."

I look up at her with a smirk. "You’re one to talk."

And then I stop teasing and let my mouth do the work, slow at first, drawing out every sound from her lips, every shiver and tremble. I feel her arch against me, the tension building again, her breathing heavy. She’s so close, but I pull back, just for a second, grinning when she groans in frustration.

“Seriously?” she gasps, trying to pull me back, but I stay where I am, brushing a kiss just above her hip.

“I’m just enjoying the view,” I say with a wink, then dive back in before she can protest, teasing her, bringing her close, then pulling back again.

"James," she growls, half-laughing, half-desperate now.

I pause, my breath warm against her skin, and look up at her, eyes gleaming. "What’s that? Are you begging already?"

Her hands fist in the sheets, and she lets out a frustrated laugh. “Oh, shut up.”

“Not until you ask nicely,” I murmur, kissing my way back up, savoring the way she squirms beneath me.

I grin against her skin, resisting the urge to dive back in just yet. Her body’s already trembling, and I can feel the tension humming beneath her surface, but I’m in no rush. This is too much fun.

"You know," I say, pressing a light kiss just to the side of where she wants me, "I was thinking… maybe I should start a side career. Professional tease. What do you think? I’d be a hit."

Ruby lets out a frustrated groan, trying to tug me back into position, but I stay put, chuckling as I press another infuriatingly soft kiss to her thigh. 

"James, seriously—"

"Patience," I murmur, trailing a finger lazily over her skin. "I mean, I could write a book on this. ‘How to Drive Your Girlfriend Mad in Ten Simple Steps.’ Bet it’d sell out."

She laughs despite herself, her body tensing as I get a little closer. "You are so… infuriating."

"Aw, you don’t mean that," I say, lips brushing against her just enough to make her squirm again. "You love me. You said so yourself."

“Right now, I’m rethinking that,” she breathes, but I can hear the laugh in her voice.

I stop again, leaning back just far enough to look up at her. “Oh really? Then maybe I’ll just—"

“James!” Her voice is high-pitched, equal parts exasperation and laughter. “I swear to God, if you stop again—"

"Okay, okay, I’ll behave," I say, grinning mischievously. "I’ll be good."

And then I’m back at it, my mouth working magic again, feeling her body tense beneath me. But just when she’s on the edge, I stop. Again.

"I was also thinking," I say conversationally, as if I’m not driving her mad, "maybe I could start a podcast. ‘Lessons in Self-Control, by James Beaufort.’"

"James, I am going to kill you," Ruby gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging almost painfully.

"Not until you ask nicely," I tease, blowing gently on her skin, making her hips jerk.

Her head falls back against the pillow, and she lets out a breathless laugh. "I hate you."

"Oh, now you’re just being mean," I say, nuzzling against her thigh. "But I can wait all night."

I hear her let out a groan, her body trembling with frustration. "James, please."

My smirk fades into something softer. That’s the sound I’ve been waiting for.

"Well, when you put it like that," I murmur, and then I’m done teasing. My mouth and hands get serious, moving with purpose, and her body arches in response, all that tension I built up finally snapping, pulling her under. 

She cries out, her fingers gripping the sheets as she finally falls apart, and I keep going until there’s nothing left of that teasing grin on her face, just pure, breathless satisfaction.

When I finally pull away, I rest my head on her stomach, catching my breath while she’s still trying to remember how to breathe.

"Okay," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "I take it back. You win."

I laugh, pressing a kiss to her belly. "Yeah, I think I do."

*****

I’m still half-asleep, lost in some hazy dream, when I feel the blanket sliding away from my body. It’s early—too early, really, still dark outside. I grumble, reaching blindly for the covers, but my hand meets only cool air. Then I feel her. 

Soft, warm lips press against my thigh, and my eyes fly open, all sleep vanishing in an instant.

"Ruby…?" I mumble, my voice thick with sleep, but I don’t get any further because she’s already working her way up, teasing, slow, feather-light touches that jolt me fully awake.

I prop myself up on my elbows, blinking down at her in the dim light. “What are you doing?”

She looks up at me, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, just returning the favor," she says, her voice sweet and innocent as her lips brush against me again. "You had your fun last night. I figured it’s my turn now."

I let out a shaky breath, already hard under her touch. "You’re… not serious."

"Oh, I am." Her grin widens, her hand grazing up my thigh, sending shivers through my entire body. "But don’t worry. You can stop me. Just keep my mouth exactly where you want it, and I won’t tease you anymore."

I blink, the implication hitting me, and my heart kicks up in my chest. “Wait, what?”

She moves closer, her breath warm against my skin. “You heard me.” Her tongue darts out, a teasing flick that makes my whole body jerk in response. “But I won’t finish you until you make me.”

A groan slips from my throat, and my head falls back against the pillow. This woman is going to kill me.

"Ruby—" I start, but she’s already working her way up again, her mouth moving deliberately slow, making me squirm beneath her.

"You like this, don’t you?" she murmurs, her voice a low purr. "You can make me do it. You just have to—"

I can’t even focus on her words; I’m too busy trying to breathe, my body betraying me with every calculated move she makes. My fingers clench into the sheets as she takes me in deeper for just a second, then pulls back. It’s agonizing.

"Ruby, please," I groan, my voice hoarse with need. "Just—"

"Nope," she says, her lips barely brushing me now. "You have to make me. You want me to take you in deep? You want that feeling again?" She pauses, trailing a slow finger along my length. "Then make me do it, James. You know you want to."

I’m teetering on the edge, my whole body coiled so tight I feel like I’m going to snap in half. I need her, need this to stop and continue at the same time, but she’s playing with me, teasing me just like I did to her last night, and it’s driving me mad.

Her voice breaks through the haze again, low and coaxing. "Come on. You know how good it’ll feel. Just let go."

With every teasing lick and gentle pull, my self-control starts to fray. “I—I can handle this,” I stammer, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

“Oh really?” she counters, a laugh dancing in her eyes. “Because you look like you’re about to explode, James.”

“Not true!” I manage to say, but my voice is getting weaker, and I can feel the tension tightening in my body.

She chuckles softly, clearly enjoying this. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. You want me to take you deeper? Make me. Your choice.”

“Ugh, Ruby…” I groan, my head falling back again, the teasing between us becoming a delicious torture. “You’re so infuriating.”

“Yeah? But you love it,” she replies with a playful smirk. She continues her slow, teasing rhythm, her mouth just barely grazing my skin, and I can feel myself slipping. “Admit it.”

“I—I’m totally in control here,” I lie through gritted teeth, but even I can hear the wavering in my voice.

“Prove it.” 

At this point, her teasing is relentless. My resolve is weakening, and I can feel my self-restraint slipping. "I’m not—" I start, but my words fade into a moan as she takes me in again, sending shockwaves through me.

"See? Not so tough anymore, are we?" Her laughter is soft but victorious, and I can’t help but want to fight back. “What’s the matter, James? You can’t handle a little teasing?”

“Okay, okay,” I groan, feeling my defenses crumble. “Maybe you’re winning this round… but it’s not over yet.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” she teases, and I’m certain I can hear her laughter behind her words. I’m at the end of my rope, and every nerve in my body screams for release.

“Ruby, please,” I plead, my voice desperate now. “Just—”

But she’s relentless. “You know what to do, James. Just let go. I promise it will feel amazing.”

The tension in my body is almost unbearable, and I can feel myself trembling, caught between the sweet agony of her teasing and the overwhelming need for release. 

“Just let me finish,” I whimper, my self-control crumbling like a house of cards, and in a final burst of determination, I grip her hair and guide her down, desperate to find the sweet relief I crave. 

As she takes me deep again, she’s done teasing, and it’s..Christ..and then my body finally snaps, a wave of pleasure crashes over me as I release, the world around me fading into a blissful haze. 

When it’s all over, I collapse back against the pillow, panting, utterly defeated yet blissfully satisfied. Ruby pulls back, wiping her mouth and grinning at me like she’s just won the lottery. 

“Guess who won this round?” she teases, her eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, a breathless laugh escaping me. “But I’m not done yet. Just you wait.”

Ruby

After sweet moments of recovery, all snuggly and needy, James pulls me close, the warmth of his body enveloping me, and I can feel the shift in the air. It’s like a current has surged between us, a spark igniting the room. I look up at him, and that familiar glint of mischief returns to his eyes, but there’s something deeper, something primal.

“Alright, you had your fun,” he says, his voice low. “But now it’s my turn. And believe me, Ruby, you’re going to see stars before this is over.” 

A shiver runs down my spine at his words, excitement coursing through me. This is what we’ve been missing—this thrill, this playful dominance. He’s flipping the script, and I’m here for it.

“Is that a promise?” I tease, biting my lip, though I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, both from the challenge and anticipation.

“Oh, it’s definitely a promise,” he replies, his voice husky, filled with a depth that sends my heart racing. He leans in, brushing his lips against mine in a slow, deliberate tease, making sure I’m fully aware of what’s about to happen.

“Get ready, love,” he whispers, and I can feel my heart thudding in my chest as he takes charge, his hands sliding down my sides possessively, asserting his control over me. “You’ve had your fun, but now it’s my time to make you forget your name.”

The thrill of submission surges through me, and I can’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up inside me. “Oh, is that so? You think you can handle me?”

James raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, his confidence radiating off him. “Handle you? Darling, I’m not just going to handle you. I’m going to worship you. Just wait and see.”

His words send another shiver down my spine, and I’m here for this dance between us—the thrill of dominance and submission, the way we push and challenge each other. It feels exhilarating and so right.

He starts slow, his lips trailing down my neck, igniting every nerve ending in my body. I arch against him, biting back a moan as he takes his time, teasing me with the promise of what’s to come. “You’re really going to make me work for it, huh?” I manage to say breathlessly.

“Only because I know you’ll enjoy every second,” he replies, his voice dripping with playful confidence. “And trust me, this is just the beginning.”

With that, he dives deeper into our shared rhythm, taking control in a way that sends shockwaves through me. Each kiss, each caress, feels deliberate, like he’s marking me as his own. I feel the shift, the way he claims me, and it ignites something fierce within me. There’s a trust here, a bond forged through everything we’ve been through, and I’m savoring every moment of this playful dominance.

“James,” I gasp, feeling the world around us fade away. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re about to be completely undone,” he promises, his voice laced with humor. I can hear the determination in his tone, the way he’s intent on making me feel cherished, worshipped. 

As he pushes me closer to the edge, I can’t help but giggle between breaths. “Okay, okay! You win!” I say, laughing and gasping as he knows exactly how to take me higher.

“No backing out now,” he chuckles, his hands gripping my wrists, holding me down just enough to remind me who’s in control. “You’re mine, Ruby. And I’m going to make you feel things you never knew you wanted.”

As the playful banter continues to bubble between us, I can feel the tension building, the air thick with anticipation. James leans in closer, and my heart races as his hands roam over my body, his touch igniting every nerve. When he finally positions himself, I gasp, the sensation overwhelming, almost too intense—but before I can fully process it, he gives me a cheeky grin.

“Just remember, love, this is your idea of fun,” he quips, his voice teasing but low, sending a rush of laughter through me, even as I’m lost in the moment.

And then he moves inside me, filling me completely. The sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. It feels like everything else fades away—the worries, the chaos, and the memories of the past. It’s just us, here and now.

The playful quip lingers in the air as I lock eyes with him, the intensity of the moment only deepening the connection between us. I can see the mischief dancing in his gaze, and it draws a soft laugh from my lips. “You really think you’re clever, don’t you?”

“I don’t just think it; I know it,” he replies, his tone a mix of confidence and amusement. But then his expression shifts, becoming more serious, and he leans down to capture my lips in a deep kiss.

The kiss steals the breath from my lungs, and in that moment, everything else falls away. It’s a sweet surrender, the kind that makes my heart race and my body tingle. I lose myself in him, the intensity of our connection amplifying with each movement, each kiss.

Suddenly, he holds my arms down above my head, a playful dominance that sends a thrill through me. I’m helpless against him, and the vulnerability of it only adds to the excitement. I trust him completely, knowing he would never push me into anything without my consent. Still, it’s exhilarating to let go and allow him to take charge, to let him guide us where this moment leads.

“James,” I whisper against his lips, feeling both vulnerable and empowered. “This is... everything.”

“I’ll always make sure it is,” he murmurs, his eyes locking onto mine, the promise hanging heavy in the air. It’s a vow, an assurance that we’re in this together, no matter what challenges we face.

As he continues to move inside me, the playful teasing fades into an intoxicating rhythm that binds us together. I am at his mercy, every sensation heightened, every breath shared amplifying the pleasure we’re creating together. I can feel the love and desire radiating between us, grounding me even as the waves of ecstasy wash over us.

With a final deep thrust, he sends me spiraling over the edge, and I gasp against his mouth, the world exploding into stars as we lose ourselves in the moment, intertwined and utterly connected. 

As the waves of pleasure wash over me, I can feel James right behind me, his breath hot against my neck. The intensity of the moment grips us both, and I can sense his own release building, the way his body tenses, the way his hands tighten around my wrists. There’s something exhilarating about being in this position—completely at his mercy, yet wholly connected.

“Ruby,” he breathes, his voice thick with emotion, and it sends a shiver down my spine. The way he says my name, almost reverently, fills me with a rush of warmth. 

His movements become more urgent, each thrust deeper and more powerful, and I can’t help but moan, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing. “James,” I whisper, wanting him to know how much I’m feeling, how alive he makes me in this moment.

He pulls me closer, and I can feel his heart racing against my back, mirroring the frantic pace of our bodies. I’m lost in the sensations, each thrust pushing me further toward the edge, the heat between us igniting everything inside me.

“Let go again, love,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything we’ve shared. “Just feel it.”

With those words, I do let go once nore. I surrender to the intensity, feeling him breaking open right behind me, both of us caught in a beautiful spiral of ecstasy. His breath hitches, and I know he’s there, the tension building to a point that feels almost unbearable. 

In that moment, we’re lost in each other, our breaths mingling, our bodies moving as one. I can feel his control slipping, the powerful waves of release washing over him as he finally lets go. It’s breathtaking, the way our bodies connect, how we become something greater together.

As the pleasure peaks, I allow myself to fall over this edge with him, the world around us fading into nothing but the two of us—entwined, breathless, and utterly in sync. It’s a moment that is everything, a perfect union of love and desire that will stay with me long after it’s over.

James

As the aftershocks of our lovemaking recede, I pull Ruby close, my heart swelling at the sight of her. She’s shaking, her body trembling with the remnants of our shared intensity, and nothing ignites my protectiveness like witnessing her in this vulnerable state. I can’t help but smile softly, brushing a few errant strands of hair away from her face. This is my favorite part—the rawness of it, how stripped down and honest we are after we’ve shared something so deeply intimate.

“Hey, look at you,” I tease gently, but my voice is thick with emotion. The truth is, I’m in awe of her. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Need me to hold you?” 

Her laughter is weak yet genuine, a soft sound that fills the space around us. “I think I might need a bit more than that,” she replies, her voice laced with that familiar playful mischief. But I see through it, recognize the way her eyes glimmer with a mix of exhaustion and need. It sends a rush of warmth through me—she needs me, and I love being the one person who can do this for her.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I assure her, my tone softening as I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against my chest. The way she molds against me feels perfect, like she was made to fit here. I can feel her heartbeat steadying against mine, and the warmth of her skin grounding me in a way that makes everything else fade away. 

“See? All better,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, feeling the way her body instinctively relaxes against me. She’s trembling so intensely, and the sight stirs something deep within me. It’s exhilarating, knowing I have this power over her, that I can bring her back to a place of safety and comfort. I relish the fact that I get to be her anchor, her refuge after the storm.

“Thank you for being you,” she whispers, her breath warm against my skin, and my heart swells at her words. I know I’ll do anything to protect that side of her, to give her the safety and love she deserves. 

I glance around the dimly lit room, spotting the blanket on the floor next to the bed.“Hold on,” I say softly, lifting her slightly so I can grab it. I wrap it around us, cocooning us in warmth, feeling the softness envelop us both. 

“Just hold on to me,” I murmur, my voice low and steady. “I can do this for you. I want to do this for you. Always.” 

As I settle back against the pillows with her, her trembling gradually subsides, but the connection between us only deepens. My fingers trace gentle patterns across her skin, and I savor this moment—the warmth, the softness, the undeniable bond we share. This is everything for me, and I won’t let it slip away ever again.

In the quiet aftermath, I lean down to capture her lips with mine, taking my time, pouring every ounce of my affection into that kiss. It’s a promise, a reassurance that we’re in this together. I want to be her rock, her safe space after the storm, and in these quiet moments, the weight of everything we’ve been through feels lighter somehow.

She melts against me, and I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have this chance again—to hold her like this, to worship her in the softest moments after what we just had. This is where I truly belong, holding her close and cherishing every piece of who she is, knowing she trusts me to be her protector and her lover. 

“Better?” I ask, my voice a low whisper as I pull back to look into her eyes. They sparkle even in the dim light, and a grin spreads across my face. “Because I’m all yours now, Ruby. Just you and me, no distractions.” 

With that, I settle in, holding her tighter beneath the blanket, a smile tugging at my lips as I realize just how much I’ve missed this—how much I want to cherish every moment, to give her all the love and support she needs. It feels like we’re starting fresh, a new beginning for us both, and I’m determined to make it count.

As Ruby shivers in my arms, her breath coming in soft gasps, I can feel the tremors still coursing through her body. She’s utterly vulnerable, the weight of our shared intimacy hanging thick in the air, and I can’t help but revel in the sight of her. It’s an incredible gift, this moment of raw need, and I’m determined to honor it.

“Hey,” I murmur softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “You okay?”

She nods, her eyes bright but still glazed with the remnants of pleasure. “Just....” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and I can’t help but smile at her dazed expression. “That was... intense.”

“Intense doesn’t quite cover it,” I tease, but there’s sincerity in my tone. “You were incredible.” 

Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, and she leans into me, seeking the warmth of my body. “I didn’t think we’d find that again so soon.”

“Neither did I,” I admit, holding her tighter. The protectiveness surges within me, stronger than ever. I love this part—when she needs me, when I can be the one to provide comfort and reassurance. “You were amazing, Ruby. I love that I can make you feel this way.”

“I love it, too,” she says, her voice trembling slightly, and I can’t help but wonder how much of that is from the aftermath of our connection.

After a moment, I ask, “Do you think we’ll be okay? I mean, after everything?” The question feels heavy, like it’s been hanging in the air since the night of the confrontation.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a second, I can see the weight of her thoughts. “I think we are okay,” she says, her voice steadying. “I really do. It might take some time here and there, but we’ll figure it out.” 

“Really?” I search her gaze, needing to believe her. “You promise?”

“Absolutely,” she replies, and I feel a rush of relief. “Nothing can make me give up on you or what we have. I’m in this for the long haul, James. No matter what.” 

I exhale, the tension easing in my chest. “That means everything to me,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea how much I need to hear that.”

“I think I do,” she counters, a playful glint returning to her eyes. “After all, I’m pretty much your biggest fan.”

“My number one fan, huh?” I smirk, feeling lighter now. “That’s a pretty big title.”

“Absolutely. Just don’t let it go to your head,” she teases back, laughter bubbling between us, the moment shifting from serious to playful.

As we settle back into each other’s warmth, the laughter continues, mixing with the lingering echoes of what we just shared. I can’t shake the feeling that, despite everything we’ve faced, we’re really going to be okay. Together, we’re reclaiming our love, and that’s all that truly matters.

Alistair

I knew James and Ruby were gonna be late to breakfast. We all did. I mean, anyone with eyes could see what was going on last night. So, when the two of them finally stumble into the dining room, a solid 40 minutes after the rest of us are already halfway through eating, I’m ready with a smirk.

“There they are!” I announce, voice dripping with mock surprise. “Thought we’d have to send out a search party.”

Everyone laughs, and James shoots me a look—half sheepish, half defiant—but it’s Ruby who answers, looking as composed as someone who’s clearly had very little sleep but way too much... well, you know.

“Guess we just needed our beauty rest,” she says, straight-faced, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that tells me she’s not fazed in the slightest.

“Beauty rest, huh?” Kesh pipes up from the other end of the table, eyebrows raised. “You sure it wasn’t something else keeping you two busy?”

That gets another round of laughs, and James rolls his eyes, though I don’t miss the way his hand settles on Ruby’s shoulder as they sit down, thumb moving in slow circles. He’s doing that thing again—hovering, making sure she’s okay. He’s always got a hand on her, whether it’s her shoulder or her knee, like if he lets go for even a second, she might slip away.

I lean back in my chair, sipping my coffee, watching as James practically fusses over her. He’s already filling her plate with eggs, grabbing the teapot, making sure she has tea in front of her before she even asks. It’s... different, but not in a bad way. There’s just this care in every little thing he does, like she’s the center of his world, and the rest of us? Well, we’re just orbiting around them. 

“So, James,” I say, leaning in with a grin, “what’s your secret? How’d you manage to drag yourself out of bed this morning?”

“Oh, shut up, Alistair,” James shoots back, but he’s smiling now, too. There’s no real bite to his words, and I can tell he’s relieved. We all are. After everything those two have been through, seeing them like this—laughing, teasing, just... being themselves again—it’s like a weight’s been lifted off the room.

“Can’t say I blame you for sleeping in,” Lin adds, tossing a piece of toast in Ruby’s direction. “Must’ve been a long night.”

Ruby catches it with a grin, not missing a beat. “You have no idea.”

“Alright, alright, leave them alone,” Ember chimes in, though she’s clearly amused. “Let them eat in peace.”

I shoot her a look. “Since when are we letting James off the hook that easy?”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Wren says, feigning deep thought. “He usually deserves a bit more roasting.”

James just shakes his head, laughing under his breath, but even through the banter, I catch the way his eyes keep flicking to Ruby, how he doesn’t let her go for too long. He’s right there every time she reaches for something, making sure she eats, checking in without saying a word. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Like he’s tuned into her every need before she even knows it herself.

And Ruby? She’s eating it up. She’s smiling, laughing along with the rest of us, but there’s this warmth between them—this unspoken connection that says more than any of our teasing ever could. They’re solid. More than that, they’re good. And after everything, that’s all any of us could really ask for.

“So,” I say, raising my mug to them with a grin, “what’s the plan for today? Or do you two need more... beauty rest?”

James groans, but Ruby just laughs, shaking her head. “No rest for the wicked,” she says, winking at James. “We’re all yours for the day.”

“Good to know,” I reply, but the teasing fades just a bit, and I find myself watching the two of them a little closer. James is still hovering, still making sure Ruby’s taken care of, but she doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she leans into it, into him. And for the first time in a while, I think we’re all seeing it—their mojo’s back.

And damn, does it feel good to see.

Alistair

We’re sprawled on the patio, beers in hand, the post-soccer haze still hanging around us. I stretch out in my chair, feeling the satisfying burn in my muscles. James is beside me, slouched back, looking a little more relaxed than I’ve seen him in a while. I take a sip of my beer, savoring the cold, bitter edge of it.

“So, how’re things with Kesh?” James asks, a casual grin playing on his lips. His tone’s light, but I know him well enough to hear the curiosity beneath it.

“Good. Really good,” I say, unable to stop the smile that spreads across my face. Kesh and I, we’ve been in a good place for a while now. He keeps me grounded, pushes me just enough. “He‘s keeping me on my toes, as usual.”

James chuckles, a low sound, but there’s something deeper in his gaze. He takes a swig of his beer, staring off into the garden. “Glad to hear it. You two fit, you know? He’s good for you.”

I nod, appreciating the sentiment. “Yeah, he is. And you and Ruby? You’ve had a bit of… well, a rollercoaster, haven’t you?”

He winces, but there’s a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Understatement of the year.”

I lean back, watching him closely. "How are things, then? Between you two?"

He’s quiet for a moment, the easy banter slipping away. “Good. Really good… but complicated.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Complicated how?”

He lets out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to shake off something heavy. “I just… feel this need to be around her all the time. I don’t know if that’s weird, but I just want to be there, to make sure she’s okay. Especially after everything that’s happened.”

I take another sip of my beer, letting his words sink in. Protective James—no surprise there. But there’s something else in his voice, something that’s been building for a while. I glance over at him, noticing how tense he’s gotten again, shoulders hunched a little too tight.

“Look,” I say carefully, “I get why you feel protective. After what she’s been through… and what you’ve been through too.” He doesn’t flinch, but I can tell he’s listening. “But, mate, sometimes you’ve gotta give her some space, y’know?”

He looks at me, frowning slightly. “Space? We’re fine. I don’t think she minds.”

I shrug, taking another sip. “Maybe not, but you two have been practically glued to each other for weeks now. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. You’re strong together, but...”

I pause, trying to find the right words. “You’ve gotta let her breathe too. Ruby’s tough, James. She doesn’t need you hovering 24/7, even if she loves having you around. Sometimes, it’s about trusting that she can handle things without you there all the time.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand. “Just hear me out. You’re good together. But being together all the time doesn’t mean you’re *being* together, if that makes sense. Give her room to be Ruby. It’ll do both of you some good.”

James is silent, staring down at his beer bottle like it’s suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. I can see the gears turning in his head, though. He knows I’m not wrong, but I’m not pushing him, not really. Just giving him a nudge.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he says finally, his voice quieter now. “She’s been through so much, and I can’t bear the thought of her feeling unsafe or… alone.”

I nod, understanding more than he realizes. “She’s not alone, mate. She’s got you, and she knows it. But trust me, giving her space doesn’t mean you’re abandoning her. It’s about balance. You’ve gotta trust her, too.”

He sighs again, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just… hard to shake that instinct, you know?”

I chuckle, clinking my bottle against his. “Of course it is. You’re practically built for protecting people, but sometimes the best way to protect someone is to let them breathe.”

James finally smiles, a small one but genuine. “Thanks, Al. I needed to hear that.”

“No problem,” I say, leaning back and stretching out again. “Besides, you’ve been dragging me back to running and building strengths for weeks now. The least I can do is return the favor with some wisdom.”

He laughs, the sound lighter now. “Wisdom? That’s rich, coming from you.”

I grin. “Hey, you know I’m right, though.”

James shakes his head, but there’s a glint in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re always right.”

“Damn straight.”

We fall into a comfortable silence after that, the cool evening air wrapping around us. There’s a lot left unsaid, but I know he’s thinking it through, taking it all in. That’s the thing with James—he’ll chew on it for a bit, and when he’s ready, he’ll act on it.

Eventually, he leans back, letting out a long breath. “You know, you’re not half bad at this whole advice thing.”

I smirk, raising my beer in mock toast. “It’s my specialty. That, and winning at ballgames. Soccer, lacrosse, you name it.”

James snorts. “Winning? When was the last time you won?”

“Don’t worry about the details, mate.”

We both laugh, the tension breaking, and I can tell he’s in a better place now. Things are good. For him, for Ruby, for all of us. Complicated, sure, but nothing worth having is ever simple.

And for now, that’s enough.

Ruby

The fire crackles softly in the living room, bathing us in its warmth. James and I are snuggled on the couch, his arm draped lazily around my shoulders, pulling me close. It’s late afternoon now, the day slipping away after a fun thrift-shopping spree with everyone and the boys playing soccer. After tea, everyone left, only Ember, James and I are still here. Lydia and Ember disappeared upstairs to work on baby things, which leaves the two of us in this quiet, cozy space.

I tilt my head, watching the flames flicker and dance, feeling James’s steady breathing beside me. His fingers trail absentmindedly along my arm, soft and soothing. It’s peaceful like this, no rush, no need for words. But I know that after last night, we should talk. Really talk.

I glance up at him, his face softened by the firelight. "You okay?" I ask gently, the words hovering between us, light but with purpose.

He looks down at me, his lips twitching into a small smile. "Yeah," he says, but I can tell there’s more. He always does that – says 'yeah' first and then lets the real answer trickle out.

I lift my hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. "James, you know we should talk about it. Last night…" My voice drifts off, letting the memory fill the space.

His eyes search mine, a mix of tenderness and relief there. "Yeah, we should." He pulls me a little closer, his hand tightening around me for a moment, like he's grounding himself.

Last night was... intense. In a way we hadn’t been since everything with Mortimer, the fallout, the scars. But we found our way back to something we hadn’t had in a while—lightness, playfulness, and that deeper trust, too.

I break the silence again, feeling the warmth of the fire creeping into my bones. “You know, for someone who hates mornings, you sure are ruthless before the sun's even up.”

James chuckles, the sound deep and rich, shaking his head. “Ruthless? Me?” He grins down at me, teasingly offended. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly reasonable at all hours.”

I give him a mock glare. “Sure, that’s why you were practically begging me to stop this morning.”

He groans, dramatically tipping his head back. “Okay, maybe I was outmatched… once.”

“Once?” I arch an eyebrow. “You mean you finally surrendered.”

He bites his lip, trying to keep a straight face but fails. “Yeah, fine. You won that round.” Then his tone softens, his thumb brushing my arm again. “But last night… it was different, Ruby. It felt like we were… I don’t know, back to us.”

I nod, understanding what he means without him needing to explain. The banter, the light dominance—he pushed, and I pushed back, but it wasn’t heavy, it wasn’t dark. It was us, finding our rhythm again.

“Yeah,” I say quietly, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “I think we needed that.”

He shifts slightly, turning to face me more fully, his eyes serious now. “Do you really think we’re… okay?” His voice is soft, almost tentative, like he’s afraid of the answer.

I meet his gaze, feeling the weight of the question, but also the clarity in my heart. “I think we are okay, James.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “Not perfect, not without stuff to work through… but good. Really good. And we’ll figure it out. I’m not giving up on us. Not ever.”

His eyes glisten slightly, and for a moment, he looks like he’s holding his breath. Then he exhales, long and slow, pulling me against him, his chin resting on top of my head.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice barely above a whisper.

I smile, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Lucky for you, you’ve got me anyway.”

We sit like that for a while, no need for more words. The fire keeps burning, casting long shadows around the room. His heart beats steady beneath my hand, and I feel safe here, wrapped in him.

Finally, James breaks the silence again, his voice lighter now. “You know, you still owe me a rematch.”

I laugh, tilting my head up to look at him. “Oh? You want to lose again?”

He grins, his usual banter returning full force. “We’ll see about that.”

I snuggle deeper into his embrace, closing my eyes. We are okay. Better than okay, really. And I know, whatever happens next, we’ll get through it. Together.