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Chapter 19 – Let the Chips Fall
Vander
Taking Ruby here was a calculated risk, one I hoped would pay off. Already in Toronto for the meeting, I had two choices.
Twenty years ago, I took her to the Danforth where she drank too much, then danced on the table in the Bouzoukia. It remained one of my most treasured memories, one I’d taken out repeatedly over the years.
The second option was the Distillery District where we had escaped to just over a decade ago, on the one weekend rescued from the hell of our separation, before I fucked things up yet a-fuckin-gain.
I chose The Danforth, a memory from when we still had hope, something I needed to instill in her again.
“Where are we going?”
Pulling out of the parking lot, I flicked on the indicator to turn. “Nowhere we haven’t been before,” I smiled at her reassuringly, then paused for a moment. “Do you need to know where we’re going, Ruby? Do you feel secure coming out of your safe zone with me?”
I’d done some reading, picked up a bit of information, and wanted to understand the parameters that Ruby operated within. I reached for her hand and held it on the seat between us.
“Um… I wouldn’t say safe, exactly, but I’m not sure if the anxiety is coming from not being in my safe zone, or just being with you period.”
“Is there anyone you can go anywhere with? Has there ever been anyone you could go anywhere with?”
“Drew,” she answered immediately then sucked in a breath before she hurriedly continued, “for a little while. With Minty or Amber, I can go anywhere, anytime. Gus, Amber’s husband, is a safe person for me.”
“Would you still be able to go anywhere with Drew?” I forced my voice to remain neutral.
“No. I don’t think so. No. The answer is no.” She looked out the window as the night flew by them and then sighed. “We were never in love. It was a drunken hookup at my sister’s wedding, two weeks after the conference.”
She tried to pull her hand from my grasp, but I held on.
She whispered, “You didn’t call. Or text. I was heartbroken, he was sweet.”
She relaxed her hand in my grip and continued. “We were friends. Friends with a child. He wanted to see if we could make it work, but I never wanted to be someone’s consolation prize.”
I winced. I’d done exactly that to my ex-wife, not that she didn’t put me in that position in the first place. Although I wasn’t thrilled hearing about her relationship with Jace’s father, for me, it definitely belonged in the need-to-know category.
“Are you still in touch with him?”
“Not at all.”
“Do you have questions for me?” I ventured carefully.
“No.” Her answer came firm and fast. “I don’t want to hear anything about anybody you’ve been with.”
Her hand trembled in mine. I stroked the inside of her wrist with my thumb. “There’s only one thing I need you to know. I’ve only ever loved you.”
“Fat lot of good it’s done me,” she muttered.
“You’re right. It’s going to be different from here on out,” I promised.
She took a deep breath and I waited to see where she’d take the conversation next. “How often do you see your son?”
She went from calling him ‘Georgie’ to calling him ‘your son’, reminding herself of the history between us, the fact that I had a life separate from hers, just as she had a life separate from mine.
“I get him for eight weeks every summer, as well as March Break and Thanksgiving. We share Christmas,” her hand jerked in mine, and I stroked her wrist again, “which means he spends all of Christmas break with me one year and comes to me on Boxing Day on alternate years.”
“That’s it?” She whispered. “That’s not very much.”
I risked a glance at her face to find it stricken. She gave me her big brown eyes. “I’d hate that.”
