Page 256 of Show Me

She studies me. “Okay.”

*****

Fifteen minutes later I walk back in carrying a grocery bag. By this point, she’s managed to make it from the bathroom back to behind her desk. I consider that progress.

She blinks as she crosses her legs. “You left work?”

“I hear pregnant women occasionally need food.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. It’s common sense.” I drop the bag on her desk amongst the paperwork that she’s not yet managed to make it through. It’s smaller than it was when she walked in this morning. Decidedly smaller.

I pull out crackers, ginger ale, peppermint tea, and nausea candies. “The pharmacist had opinions.” That earns me a small laugh. “Small sips,” I say, handing her the ginger ale.

She rolls her eyes but obeys. Progress.

After a few minutes, some color returns to her face. “You left for crackers?”

“You say that like it wasn’t important. Everything about you is important”

Her smile fades as she glances down at her hands. “I didn’t want to make it a thing.”

“It already is a thing. You’re pregnant. With my baby. It’s a thing no matter whether you give me another chance or not.”

She looks up. “I don't hate that you’re taking care of me.”

“Good, because I have no intentions of stopping.”

A beat passes before she speaks again. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For stepping in when I needed you.”

I step closer, bending down in front of her and resting my hand on her knee. “There’s no version of this where I leave you alone sick in a bathroom, Ruby.”

Her fingers wrap around my wrist. “You make this difficult.”

“I’m pretty sure you started it.”

A small smile appears. “There’s the ego.”

“There’s the attitude.”

Outside, someone drops a stack of lumber. Neither of us looks away.

For the first time in weeks... Being close to her doesn’t feel like it’s the end. It feels like we’re finding our way back.

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Two

Ruby

That Afternoon

My hand rests on the doorknob. Not opening it yet, just holding there while I stare out through the glass toward the parking lot. This shouldn’t feel like a big deal. My purse strap slides against my shoulder. People go to doctor appointments every day.

But asking Xavier to come with me? That feels different. Bigger. Like crossing into something neither of us can pretend isn’t real anymore.