Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

56

Bennett

I cross the church’s emergency exit threshold alone, giving a final look at Ruby—my sweet Ruby—before shutting the door behind me. My oxfords clack over the stone walkway, and even on a sunny day with birds chirping, it somehow feels like the only noise in the ten-square-foot courtyard.

Jolene blinks at me, eyes darting to the door and back. She turns on the spot, putting her hands on her hips and squinting up into the sunlight as she begins to pace. Her dress is fitted silk, curving around every edge of her and landing in a pool by her feet. It would be perfect, but the hem is nearly destroyed. I wonder how long she’s been out here, pacing.

“You were right,” I admit. “The dress is gorgeous.”

“I know it is.”

Her words strike like a whip between us.

“So … you’re out here,” I continue, placing my hands in my pockets.

She shrugs. “So are you.”

I inhale and exhale.

“I went to find you,” I explain.

“I didn’t.”

Guilt slides through me, and I wonder if she can sense it because, for the first time since coming out here, her shoulders slump.

“I’m sorry,” she confesses. “I can’t do it.”

I give a weak smile. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate at all, but at least she returns it.

“If it makes you feel better, I can’t either,” I admit.

Her smile gets slightly bigger—a little smirk almost.

“You’re leaving for her, aren’t you?”

Slowly, painfully, I nod. There’s no point in denying it. But also, it’s not exactly the full story, is it? So, I shake my head as well.

“Yes,” I answer. “And no. You and I wouldn’t have worked long-term. You know that just as much as I do.”

She crosses her arms and looks behind me. I turn and see faces staring back at me through the window—Quinn, Lorelei, Theo, and the rest of the crew. They duck down, disappearing.

So nosy.

But part of me smiles at it anyway.

I don’t like that this is how things are ending between Jolene and me—with an audience. But the look of my friends being goofy is such a contrast to the serious situation I’m in that it lightens my heart.

“We wouldn’t have worked,” Jolene admits. “I don’t fit in with your lifestyle.”

“It’s not you,” I say quickly.

“No. Not entirely. But we don’t want the same thing. Kids? A family? Bennett, I know what you want.” She lets out the biggest sigh. “You just want Ruby. Nobody else will do.”

My heart sinks, then buoys back up just as quickly. Guilt, but then peace.

“I’m sorry,” I find myself saying because what else do you say to that? I can’t deny it. I won’t refuse my destiny any longer, and Ruby Sullivan is exactly that—my past, my present, and my future.

“You said you were hung up on someone. That day we met. It was her, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you see her last night.”

I tilt my head to the side, and she grins. Jolene’s joking. At least there’s that.

“Come on, Bennett,” she says. “Say what’s on your mind. You know you two were inevitable.”

“Yes. We were inevitable,” I admit.

“I get it,” she says. “You two. I understand. And I think I might hate you for it, but I haven’t exactly figured that out yet. Y’know, the worst thing you did was be an excellent friend to the woman you loved. Unfortunately, that woman wasn’t me.”

I open my mouth, and she shakes her head and holds up her hand. “Hey, no, listen. You tried. But I made the mistake of stepping into the wrong love story. Ruby was never going to be dethroned from your number one spot, and there was no point in fighting for a crown that never belonged to me in the first place.”

She lets out a sardonic laugh. “God, I can’t believe I tried to come between you two. I was fighting fate. I’m too pushy, aren’t I? Too demanding? I even tried to get you to have a relationship with your dad that you didn’t even want.”

“You couldn’t have known how complicated it was.”

“But she did.”

Her eyes rove over me. “You look amazing in a tux, by the way. But it’s so not you.”

“No?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I tried to make you someone that wasn’t Ruby’s. Somehow, I assumed short-haired Bennett would be mine. That, once you got rid of the motorcycle and the band tees and that little bracelet, you would finally belong to me.”

“I think you were just trying to make me a better man in your own way. And I thank you for that. But you’re right.”

I do belong to Ruby, is the unspoken sentence lingering in the air.

“I do like her,” Jolene admits. Some form of surprise on my face must give me away because she snorts. “Oh, come on. I’m not a monster.”

“I know you’re not a monster,” I respond with a chuckle. “But you are a force to be reckoned with. Unreadable sometimes. But I just know the man who marries you will be able to. He’ll be the man that pushes you like you will to him. Steel can only be satisfied with steel.”

She tilts her head to the side, and for a moment, I don’t see Jolene, but a woman giving up her wedding day. A woman who only wants the world. “Thank you.”

A second passes before feisty Jolene is back though. She fluffs her dress, clears her throat, and places her hands on her hips. “Well, if you haven’t already, I demand you tell Ruby you love her. And don’t take no for an answer this time, all right?”

I open my mouth, but don’t argue. Instead, I laugh and shake my head. “You really are something.”

She gives a smile, and then her eyes dart to the window and back to me. Her eyebrows cinch in, and she sighs.

“I don’t want to go back in there,” she admits, her voice almost a whisper.

I turn around, seeing the window is now filled with people who aren’t just my friends, but Jolene’s family too. It seems her side of the chapel has finally realized what’s going on. The worst part is, they’re treating it like a sideshow. They don’t have the grace to duck out of the way.

I turn back to her, watching her wind her hands together, trying to swallow down bravery that, for the first time, she might not have.

“Don’t then,” I say. “Don’t go back in. Make a run for it, Jo.”

She blinks at me, laughing, then stops. “You’re serious?”

“Go. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

I can see the fire in her eyes, the same fire I fell in love with and would have spent the rest of my life enjoying.

My love for Jolene is undeniably real. But there’s a different type of fire on the other side of that door behind me. A fire hidden beneath green eyes, right above the freckles I adore. Ruby’s fire will always be kindling in my soul, and I’ll always carry the match, waiting for when it allows me to set my heart ablaze.

I’m leaving this church with the intent to be with Ruby forever, marriage or not. She essentially told me she loves me last night, and that is good enough.

My heart has been waiting too long for her fire.

Jolene bites the inside of her cheek and grins. “I would look pretty awesome, running away in a wedding dress.”

“So badass,” I agree, leaning back on my heels for emphasis.

She smirks, starting to gather up the hem. I step forward and take some for her, placing the remainder in her fist. She leans in, kissing me on the cheek.

“Take care of yourself,” I say.

“I always do.”

Then, she turns on her heel and runs.

Jolene looks elegant, running away. I would have taken a photo for her if I’d had my phone. Instead, I walk back inside, letting the door snap shut behind me as I peer at my silent mom and Ruby.

Ruby.

My Ruby.

I stare into the face of my destiny, the woman I’ve loved since we were too young to understand the unease of emotion. I should have known those freckles would be imprinted on my soul forever.

I give her a decisive nod. There’s no smile on my face, but there doesn’t need to be. I wonder if she can hear my thoughts.

You’re my flame.

The side of her lips tips into a smile.

She can hear me loud and clear.

My mom is pacing again, looking down at her hands, then back up. Then down. And back up again. A repeated motion over and over. Finally, she places her hands on her hips and blows out a heavy exhale.

“Okay, so you’ve paid the caterer, right?”

I finally break eye contact with Ruby and nod to her. “Yes.”

She claps her hands together. “Perfect. And the photographer?”

“Of course.”

“Fantastic.”

“Why?”

My mom ignores me. “I’ll tip the pastor for his time.”

“Okay—”

“And you guys can skedaddle.”

Her hands wave us off. Like we’re kids, being excused to recess.

I blink at her, swallowing. “What?”

She levels a stare at us, all humor gone, and says, “Leave.”

I look at Ruby the same time she looks at me.

“Go,” Mom repeats, drawing our gazes back to her. She’s determined now. “I’ll handle everyone in there.”

“No, you’re not going to—”

“Son”—she holds out her palm—“you try so hard to protect everyone else, to be what everyone else needs. You tried to be what Jolene needed. What I needed. But we both know what you need. So, go. Be your own runaway bride.”

“Groom.”

She smiles. “Just don’t wait any longer.”

I feel my lips twitch into a sliver of a smile, and then, slowly, Ruby’s grows wider too. It’s that secretly mischievous grin I fell in love with at seven years old.

I reach for her hand. She takes it and squeezes.

“Go,” my mom says.

So, we do.

We cut and run through the chapel doors right as the bell tolls.

* * *

Ruby and I burst out of the chapel’s double doors like two bats out of hell. Maybe I will go to hell for this. Maybe I should. But hell with my best friend doesn’t sound so bad.

We make it down the steps, me taking less than I normally would as Ruby tries to descend in heels. Eventually, she takes them off, and I place my hand on her lower back—always her lower back—then swing her into my arms.

She bites her bottom lip, and I can tell she is trying not to giggle.

My sweet, sweet Ruby.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“We’ll figure it out,” I huff, carrying her down the block. “We always do.”

She tightens her arms around my neck as I jog a bit faster.

We go down one street. Then another. Then, we’re past Main, and the only things I can see are the pine trees lining the sidewalk and the distant peaks of Honeywood’s roller coasters. I finally set her down once we walk slower, after the anxiety from leaving my wedding finally dissipates.

Ruby and I watch as a train rips over The Grizzly’s track a few blocks away, shooting past the newly installed launch and barreling through the tunnel to the other side. I smile to myself as a closer roller coaster, the blue zip of Bumblebee’s Flight, roars its call.

That was the first roller coaster I rode with Ruby. I remember her scrunched-up freckles, anxiously gritted teeth, and her wide green eyes that transformed into a squinting smile as the wind hit her face on the free fall.

A hook behind my gut tugs at the other memory on that ride though.

Jolene sat next to me on that same attraction after our third month together. I remember how she shrugged afterward and said she couldn’t understand the hype. She asked how much longer until we left.

That same dismissive shrug was everywhere—when I told her I didn’t want a relationship with my dad, but she insisted I contact him anyway. When I asked her to form a relationship with my best friends, but she said she already had friends. When I told her just how important Ruby was, but she demanded I not talk to her anymore.

I can give up a lot of things, but I refuse to give up Ruby.

We pass by Landon’s yard on the edge of downtown, where my black truck is parked in the driveway. I slow my walking, ready to hop in. To go somewhere, anywhere. As long as it’s with her.

Ruby pauses beside me.

“Y’know,” she muses, “I could go for some pancakes at Honeywood.”

I blink at her, then laugh. “Me too.”

So, we keep walking and clear another block. Birds chirp an evening song. The grass and pine needles rustle as the wind passes through. The branches creak overhead.

It’s silent, but the good kind of quiet. I feel relief. Contentment. Happiness.

We pass the gate into Honeywood’s employee lot. Now on the blacktop, Ruby bends to slide one of her heels back on, reaching for the buckle around her ankle. But I lower down to one knee in front of her and pat my thigh.

Smiling, she raises her foot and places it there.

I trail a hand over her calf, smoothing my palm down to the shoe’s strap, where I secure it through the buckle. I look back to her and grin.

“Hi,” I say.

Ruby beams down at me. “Hey there.”

She exchanges one foot for the other. I secure the next shoe, then rise to my own feet.

I forgot how much I tower over her. How small she looks before me. But she’s noticeably different now than she has been in the past. Her muscles are stronger. Her posture is straighter, more confident. Her head is tilted to the side in a knowing way, the sly hint of a smile tugging at the edges of those beautiful pink lips.

I want to kiss her. But it somehow feels too soon. I am still in a wedding tux after all.

“Pancakes?” I ask.

“Mmhmm.”

“Good,” I agree. “Then, let’s go.”

I key us into the employee entrance, and we shuffle through. Our stroll in Honeywood feels surreal and not just because we’re here on a weekend and I’m not working. It’s because I’m walking through my favorite park with my favorite person by my side, wishing I were nowhere else in this world. Just like I did when I was a kid. Just like I want to do forever.

We sidestep a costumed Bumble the Bee, both of us giving a small wave to whichever teen is inside the giant bobblehead. They stare. I’m sure we look so inappropriate in our fancy black-tie dress among the guests, clad in fanny packs, matching family T-shirts, and Buzzy the Bear headbands.

We reach The Bee-fast Stop, and I open the door for her as she tries to do the same for me. She sticks out her tongue, and I grab a buffet tray, which she tries to take from me.

“Nope, dinner is on me,” she says.

“Absolutely not.”

She giggles and gives a playful tug. “Bennett.”

“Nope.” I pull the buffet tray from her hand with a grin.

She scoffs. “Bennett!”

“You’re not getting it back.”

“Benny!”

“Nah-ah.”

“Benjamin!”

“No.”

“Benothy!”

“Never.”

She’s laughing so hard now that I can hear it over the loud chatter in the restaurant. I’ve never seen my best friend so happy, smiling so wide, having such over-the-top joy that I can barely contain my own laughter barreling out of me.

This is how my life is supposed to play out.

Messy but fun. Always fun.