Page 189 of Show Me

He pauses when he sees me. “You alright?”

I blink and straighten in the chair. “Yeah.”

He studies me for a moment longer than I’d like. “You look pale.”

“A smell at the vet clinic got to me earlier today.” That part is at least true. I’m not about to tell him what a mess things are with his son. I don’t need another person feeling sorry for me.

He grunts. “Animals do that sometimes.”

“Apparently.” I try to smile. It feels stiff.

My gaze drifts around the office instead. The neat stacks of paperwork. The smell of fresh lumber. It feels safe here. Or it did. But the thought of sitting across from Xavier tomorrow pretending none of today happened feels impossible.

I swallow hard before speaking. “I think I’m going to head out early.”

His brows lift. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m not feeling great.” Again… true. Just not completely.

“Alright.”

No interrogation. No pressure. No pushing. Another reason I like him. He respects people when they need space.

“Get some rest,” he says.

“I will.” I grab my bag before I can second-guess myself.

The drive across town passes in a blur.

By the time I pull into the driveway at Xavier’s house, I haven’t figured out what I’m going to say if he’s home.

Thankfully, Ben answers the door instead. “Ruby?” Concern flashes across his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” That word is doing a lot of heavy lifting today. “I came to grab my stuff.”

Ben steps aside. “Sure.”

The house is quieter than usual. No TV. No yelling from the kitchen. No Xavier. Relief and disappointment twist together painfully in my chest.

Ben watches me walk toward the hallway. “You need help with anything?”

“No.” I hesitate for half a second before adding, “Thanks, though.”

His expression softens. “Of course.”

I barely make it halfway down the hall before I hear the familiar shuffle of little hooves on hardwood. “Hey, Squirt.”

He rounds the corner at an awkward trot, ears perked, tail swishing so hard his whole back end wiggles. He bumps into my shin with a happy grunt before circling my feet once, waiting for the scratches he expects every time I come home.

My throat tightens. I crouch, rubbing behind his ears. “Hi, sweetheart.”

He looks up at me like he’s waiting for whatever comes next.

“Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “We're leaving, and I have no idea what comes next.”

I clip his leash onto his harness before pushing open Xavier’s bedroom door. The room looks exactly the way it did this morning. The blankets tangled near the foot of the bed.

My phone charger plugged into the wall. The drawer he’d cleared out for me hanging open.