Losing Ruby

chapter eight

Losing Ruby

Copyright © 2020 Kelsa Dixon

All rights reserved

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[Chloe]

The weight of it all was too much. It was bearing down on me and I didn't know how much more I could stand to take before my knees gave out and I crumbled. Before one of the many concerned glances Luca kept firing at me, fractured my heart wide open. How many more times could Noah pull me back up before I was only a weak puppet left on a slack set of strings?

They were gone. For good. Forever.

"C? If you need a minute...." A warm set of words breezed past my ear as Luca leaned in too close. Soon he'd be able to hear my thoughts. I looked up to find Kendall beside him, worry pinched between her eyes—she was as loyal and devoted as he was with the matched concern pointed in my direction.

"I'm good." The words came out firm from deep in my chest, head held high. Just as Noah and I used to rehearse years ago.

I felt Kendall's watchful eye graze over the shoulders I pushed back; past the hair I pinned tightly behind my ear. I could hear her offer before the words came out. Do you want to get something to eat? Do you need some air? If you need someone to talk to.... I excused myself before she got the chance. "I need to use the bathroom." I slipped away before she could agree and find her way down the hall with me.

At the back of the house, I took a right at the stairs. There was no one back here. The voices and murmurs and condolences silenced in the quiet room. A sanctuary of sorts now. Or maybe a shrine. I couldn't decide if it was a place of peace or more pain, surrounded by all of the things that would never mean anything to anyone but me.

I sat perched on the edge of their bed and I stared at the framed photos that lined the wall between a set of windows that peered into the backyard. There were years of our lives on that wall. Years with Ruby in them. A set with mom, a different set with a different background that included our dad. A few with the seven of us. None with only the six of us. I wondered if there would ever be any with just the four of us.

I had to pull my gaze away before the thought ate me alive. I bit my lip to keep the cry buried inside. It continually attempted to surface and I held my breath to stifle it. Pushing to my feet, I lifted a hand to the dresser across the room. Jewelry strewn about in various cups and dishes. In a box that sang a soft melody when I opened it. It had been our mothers and had been gifted to her when she was six.

I remembered the story as if it were just this morning she'd told it to me. I had listened in awe at the thought of never remembering a mother that had adored you. She'd explained that the bits and pieces she did recall were cherished moments. Ones that made her feel instead of remember. She carried that faith in love even into the years of her adulthood. I couldn't fathom that kind of strength.

She wasn't here now to remind me that sometimes the feelings were easier to carry than the memories.

My breath caught in my throat and a twin set of tears sprung free. I didn't bother to brush them away—I was alone.

The pads of my fingers brushed a pair of gold hoops laid out on the wooden top. They'd been the ones she'd worn everyday. Finding my reflection in the mirror in front of me, I pulled the studs from my own ears, replacing them with the simple loops of gold. When I was done, I guided my own chin up with the back of my hand. The light from the window on the wall next to me glinted off the metal. They were mine now.