Chapter Thirty-Two
Ruby
I sit in the lounge of Jem’s quiet house watching TV in a failed attempt to distract myself from the growing unease that something’s going wrong between us.
Germany was three days ago and the tension between me and Jem intensifies daily. The last three months evaporate, content replaced by tension. I haven’t questioned Jem about the texts and today he’s home late; I’m scared about what’s coming.
Something is wrong; this Jem is the guy I first met. The one who doesn’t sleep; who once let me sleep in his arms, now pulls away and turns his back as soon as he thinks I’m asleep. He’s withdrawing and I’m being edged out.
Jem arrives a little after eight p.m., the dark rings around his eyes from lack of sleep more pronounced. He gives me a gruff greeting and disappears; returning five minutes later, then hovers in the corner of the room, near the TV.
“Can I talk to you?” he says.
“Sure.” I pick up the remote and click off the TV. “Are you okay? Has something happened?”
The nail chewing is odd for Jem and he stops, pushes his curls from his face, and looks at me. “I’m just going to come straight out with this.”
“Okay.”
“You need to move out.”
He may as well have slapped me in the face, the shock and watering eyes come so readily. “Oh. Okay. Sure.”
“And I don’t think we should continue this…” He pauses. “This.”
Another slap. “Right.”
“Okay.” He tucks his hands beneath his arms. “Sorry.”
I’m not one of those girls, the ones who collapse in tears and beg to stay. Definitely not the sort to ask the guy to change his mind. They all realise eventually: I’m not worth it. “It’s a bit late to go now. Can I stay until tomorrow?”
Jem rubs his cheek. He looks confused. I guess he expected a stronger reaction. Right, like I’m about to show him how I really feel.
“I’m not going to kick you onto the street!”
“No, but you are going to kick me in the heart.”
Emotion shows through at last, the hidden distress in his eyes I want to ask about. What’s happening here?
“I thought I could do this, Ruby, but I can’t. I can’t give myself to you the way you want. This isn’t working.”
“Have you been rehearsing these lines? How about ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? I’ve heard that’s a f-ucking good one.”
Here she comes, if he’s rejected one Ruby, he’ll get the other. I knew something threatened our relationship; but for Jem to take what we have and smash it to pieces without any discussion is beyond what I imagined was coming.
“What’s happened, Jem? Talk to me.”
“I tried, but I can’t do this,” he continues.
“Define ‘this’. Monogamy?”
“What?”
“You’re f-ucking someone else.”
“For f-uck’s sake, Ruby, is this about Kristie again?”
“No. Marie,” I blurt.
Jem’s stance changes, shoulders stiffening. “What?”
“Marie. I saw the messages.”
“f-uck!” He walks out of the room to the kitchen, slamming the door. My rapid-fire heart thumps in my ears as I scramble to catch up. I thought things were going wrong, but why this?
Jem returns, his face dark. “You read my phone messages?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did. I shouldn’t have.”
“Correct. If I let you into my life, it’s on my terms and they don’t include spying on me.”
“Wow, so you did me a f-ucking favour giving me some of your precious time?”
Jem’s tone softens, but the cold remains. What happened today that tripped the switch and re-erected his force field? “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“No, you wouldn’t, because you have to feel something to fight. How long have you lied to me about how you feel?”
“I feel pissed off that you invaded my privacy, Ruby.”
“I feel like an idiot.” I grab my coat and phone. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“It’s late. You can’t go,” says Jem in alarm.
“What the f-uck, Jem?”
“Wait until tomorrow. I don’t want to worry about you.”
“You f-ucking hypocrite! You don’t have to. If this is over, leave me the f-uck alone!”
Jem shook up our world again and scattered the pieces. Do I grab at them and try to push everything back together? As I stand, trembling, Jem closes his eyes, blocking me out.
“I don’t understand, Jem,” I say hoarsely.
“No, neither do I.”
“Talk to me.”
Jem turns away. “I’m sorry.”
I wait. I don’t know what for, but he doesn’t speak again. I could touch Jem, try to get through to the truth, but I’m scared. No explanation from Jem is better than one from him containing words I can use against myself to rip apart my new self-belief. I know Jem lashes out when we fight, can say hurtful things, and I’ll use the words as weapons against myself if this happens. With calm from years of practice, from hiding the distress and keeping control, I walk away to pack a bag.
I play over and over in my mind what I might’ve done wrong. I backed off on being needy, or I thought I did. He has to be screwing someone else; otherwise, why would he drop what we had so easily?
Jem has gone when I leave the bedroom with my bag and I stand in the lounge of the place I began to call home, overwhelmed by the grief twisting around my insides, strangling the life from me. How can he do this?
I climb into the car as anger joins the hurt, at being treated by him in such a dismissive way. Jem knows my self-worth is practically non-existent in personal relationships so I challenge myself to accept this is nothing to do with me. This is Jem, the fucked up guy who can’t admit he feels.
Perhaps I should be thankful that, although he shattered my fragile heart into a multitude of pieces I won’t find again in a hurry, he gave me the strength to leave Dan and push Ruby Riot’s need for success. I can be who I want and achieve the dreams I never thought possible. In the future, I can take what I’ve learnt from this.
One day I’ll have a relationship with a normal man.
****
Jem
I’m doing the right thing.
Exhausted, I go to bed, wrap myself up in the sheets, and fight away memories of seeing Mum today. I wake in the night and put a hand out for Ruby, but she’s not there. Of course, because I fucked up. I pull across the pillow she slept on and bury my head into the cotton, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.
I’m doing the right thing.
Sleep eludes me and I pull myself out of bed, the process automatic. Get up. Get dressed. Treadmill. My guitar is propped against the drawers; the guitar Ruby likes to use on the days I persuade her to play to me. I should give her it, when she comes back to pick up the rest of her gear.
A spike of regret shocks me; an ache filling the void, reminding me it’s not only my bed that’s empty. I blank any thoughts of Ruby, retreat to the numb world where I’m on my own and I’m safe.
I’m doing the right thing.
Keep telling yourself that, Jem.