Page 137 of River & Rue

FOUR HOURS LATER

River kisses me goodbye on the porch.

“If you need me, just text, and I’ll come right back. Dan put that beast of a sculpture together himself; he can disassemble and pack it himself too.”

“You have far more faith in his organizational skills than I do. Go. He needs you. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

I shoo him off the porch, managing a satisfyingly loud slap to his ass as he heads down the steps. Once on the ground, he turns so he’s walking backward and points a finger at me.

“That will come back to haunt you.”

I fake a shiver. “I’m so scared. Please, please don’t spank me. I’ll hate it soooo much.”

River chuckles menacingly. “It’s not your ass I’m going to spank, Princess.”

My jaw drops. His grin sharpens, and he gives me a wink before jogging out of the clearing. When I lose sight of him, I turn to Phil the Squirrel. He cocks his head, lowering the baby carrot he’s been munching on.

“If he told me Ivy already knows about us and is happy about it, why am I so nervous?”

Phil’s little shoulders move up and down. Even knowing squirrels don’t shrug, much less understand English, I narrow my eyes.

“Thanks for zero help, Phil.”

Unbothered, he returns to his carrot.

I watch him another few moments before deciding to interpret his nonchalance as advice. Something along the lines of, Stop thinking so much, dumb human.

“Thanks, Phil.”

He chirps.

Grabbing my phone off the railing, I plop down on the top step, swipe to my Favorites, and press the first contact.

Ivy answers on the third ring.

“Hello? Who is this? Your name isn’t in my contacts.”

I wince. “I deserve that. I’m really, really sorry I haven’t called you.”

“Five weeks, Rue. Five. Weeks. Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me? I had to rely on Ryan for conversation—the man who thinks bacon is a complete meal and watching golf is exciting.”

I snort. “You love him.”

Silence answers me. I’m about to look at the screen to see if our call disconnected when Ivy sighs.

My stomach drops. “What happened? Do I need to hurt him?”

She laughs, but it’s soft and pained. “Nah. But being without you for over a month was eye-opening, to say the least. I realized pretty fast how much I’ve relied on you to provide what Ryan couldn’t, and it just wasn’t okay anymore. I needed to know if there was hope for a deeper connection.”

I close my eyes, my heart aching. “You finally told him?”

“Yeah, last week. He thought I was joking, which wasn’t a huge surprise. I don’t even blame him for that. But when I told him I was serious and explained a bit more, he freaked out. He said only crazy people believe in ‘that new-age nonsense,’ and that if I wanted him to propose on our anniversary, I’d never say anything about it again. I told him to get out and lose my number.”

While I’m not really surprised, my heart aches for her. “Shit, Ivy. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, and it’s okay. Really. I leaned on Mom and Dad, and you know how ecstatic they get when one of us needs them.” The humor fades from her voice. “I didn’t expect Ryan to believe me. I just needed him to be like you—to accept this part of me without labeling me as delusional. But if I’m honest, I knew that was how he’d react and that it would end the relationship. And I’m relieved it’s over.”

“And sad,” I murmur.