Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia
57
Ruby
“You can ask what we talked about,” Bennett says.
“I don’t want to pry.”
Bennett has one hand on the wheel as he drives us back to my house. We picked up his truck after walking with a to-go bag full of pancakes from The Bee-fast Stop.
“Is Jolene okay?” I ask.
“She will be.”
I watch the streetlamps passing by, the power lines moving up and down like waves in the sky.
“And are you okay too?”
“Yes,” he says confidently. “Everything is wonderful.” And for the first time in what feels like forever, he seems like he means it.
He turns the wheel onto my street. We pull into my driveway to see Michael’s red Camaro, and sitting on the porch in a suit, with his forearms on his knees, is Michael himself.
“Never mind,” Bennett mumbles.
Michael looks unsurprised, almost bored, to see us together. His black eye really adds to the broody look, but he gives a half-smile in my direction to compensate. I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.
I hop out of Bennett’s truck. The gentle bird chirps feel so inappropriate. The subsequent hum and yell of cicadas feel more fitting. Funny how a Southern fall day can capture all emotions.
I walk up to where Michael sits. He peers up at me before rolling his eyes with a grin.
“I should have known,” he drawls.
I crouch in front of him.
“Don’t even try to apologize,” he whispers. “I knew what I was getting into with you.”
“I’m still gonna say sorry.”
“Well, if you insist …”
I smile. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
“For running away at your best friend’s wedding with the groom himself?”
“Yeah. For that.”
“It’s okay, Red.”
“You know, you really are an amazing friend.”
He laughs. “That’s kinda the worst part about me. I’m a fantastic friend, and that’s about it, huh?” I giggle as his thumb and forefinger lift my chin. “Not soul mate material, am I?”
“You are.”
“Just not yours.”
I don’t reply because I wouldn’t know how. He’s right. Bennett is my soul mate. I know that as surely as I know the grass is green.
When I don’t say anything, Michael says, “I want to stay friends. For a long time, okay?”
“I’d love that.”
He looks past me at Bennett and groans.
“Hey, and if he gives you grief, tell him Mikey can throw a punch too, all right?”
Bennett snorts with a smile. “I’m standing right here.”
“Good,” Michael states with a tilt of his head. “Then, you can hear the threat.”
“Don’t provoke him,” I joke with a half-smile.
Michael squints one eye. “But it’s so fun.”
“Still here,” Bennett says.
“Always here, huh?”
My heart fills with hope and joy and everything in between. Michael’s right. Bennett is here. And he always will be.
Michael slaps his thighs and stands, letting out a strained exhale that’s a mix of irritation and amusement.
“Well, I’m gonna get going.”
“Tell little Mikey I said hey,” I say.
Bennett shakes his head. “Pardon?”
Michael shoots him a wink. “She means my son.”
“You named your son after you?”
“I know; I know. I’m a total narcissist,” Michael jokes with his hands waving in the air and a small bleh to follow. “In my defense, it’s a family name.”
“Poor kid,” Bennett says.
“You’re tellin’ me.”
Michael grabs the suit jacket from the porch and throws it over his shoulder. He pulls me in for a hug, giving a nice extra squeeze for good measure. In the short time we’ve been friends, we’ve only embraced a handful of times. But I almost wish we’d hugged more. He’s really good at it. He places a small kiss on my temple, his beard tickling my face, before shaking Bennett’s hand and lowering into his Camaro.
With a final wave, he reverses from my driveway and drives away.
“Okay, I’ll give it to him—he has a pretty cool car,” Bennett says with a low whistle.
I sigh. “He really does.”
“Should I get one?”
“Nah. I like your motorcycle more.”
His eyes flash to me. “Good. Me too.”
We turn and walk to my house. Bennett uses the key I gave him years ago, and then we’re entirely alone.
Bennett sets his keys on the counter, the rattle echoing through my living room.
When I turn on my heel, he’s standing there, hands in pockets.
I look him over, the missing tux jacket, the loose bow tie, the haircut that looks disheveled and a little more Bennett than it did before.
I love him. My soul mate. My best friend. And I don’t know where we stand with that information, but I don’t care. I just need him by my side.
And then, at the same time, we take a step forward and blend into each other’s arms.
It feels good.
It feels right.
It’s us. Just us.
We stand there together, holding each other for who knows how long. Breathing the same air. Feeling the same skin. Combining our heartbeats. Our souls finally meet in the middle, right where they belong.
“Can I just hold you for a little bit longer?” he asks.
And I smile and nuzzle in closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His arms grip me tighter. “Me neither.”
So, we stay close. Content.
And after a few moments, he finally croaks out a small, “Ruby.” His voice echoes in my silent living room. “I feel like I should explain.”
“If you want.”
Slowly, his hand strokes into my hair, locking his large palm in place. I close my eyes to the feeling. The rightness of it. The surreal excitement of him so close to me.
And then he places his other hand on my lower back.
Where it belongs.
“Ruby,” he breathes, “you must know. You must know why I left, don’t you?”
I do. I do, I do, I do.
Even as my heart is thumping so hard that I could pass out from the joy of it, it doesn’t feel real.
But, God, I know, I know, I know.
I find myself smiling so wide that it almost hurts. It’s all the knowing bursting at the seams.
He left for me.
“I like your hand on my back again,” is all I can think to say, and it comes out in choked laughter.
He echoes the same laugh. “I do too.”
Then, he leans forward and kisses my forehead.
“I couldn’t marry Jolene. Not when you exist.”
“Not when you exist.”
I look into his eyes, how they dart between mine. How they linger on my freckles. God, he loves my freckles, doesn’t he? I love how much he loves them. How he loves the parts of me I don’t.
“I want you,” he confesses.
I reach behind my back, entwining my fingers in his.
“I want you too,” I respond, just as I should have three years ago.
His eyebrows turn in, and he lets out a shaky exhale. “I’ve got some things to take care of this week, but—”
“Your life is complicated. I understand. That’s okay.”
“It is?”
“I don’t know if you remember, but we just ran away together on your wedding day.”
He grins. “That we did.”
“Figure out what you need to. Get your ducks in a row. Then, we’ll figure us out.”
“I want to give you all my ducks as soon as possible.”
“Good. I want you and your ducks. I’ll wait for them.”
I’ve spent a long time practicing my ability to read Bennett’s mind, so the way his posture falters and how this big man of mine melts back into my arms, it tells me everything I need to know.
After Bennett made the decision to leave that chapel, I know he was prepared to do anything for me. He would make the same sacrifice his mom had made, waiting for me to commit to him even if it meant he would wait forever.
The kicker is, I would do the same. I’ll wait for him for as long as he needs.
He is my forever.
“You got something there,” I say, reaching up to stroke under his eye, taking a small tear with me.
“Thank you for waiting, but I’m yours, Ruby,” he whispers. “I promise I’m yours.”
Suddenly, there’s a knock at my door. We jump, both our eyes darting to the intruder.
“Bennett Shaw, we know you’re in there. I see your truck.”
It’s Quinn.
“Of course they’re here,” I whisper with a grin.
Bennett shakes his head and smiles too.
We hear Theo’s voice. “The door is locked, and your door is never locked, Ruby,” she condemns. “I don’t like to use my imagination, but if you two are already doing the nasty—”
“We have leftovers,” Emory interrupts loudly.
My face heats red, and I pull away from Bennett’s hug. He blinks down at me, but something passes between us. A thought. A hope. A smile.
I open the front door, and our friends’ faces stare back. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe disappointment? Irritation? But not a one of them is upset. Well, except maybe Emory, whose arms are full of silver tins. But his base level of emotion is vague irritation.
“Where can I put these?” he grumbles.
“Hey, Tweedledum and Tweedledumber,” Quinn says, taking a tin from his arms and bumping her hip to walk past me. “About time, right?”
Bennett smiles at me, and I bite my bottom lip.
He nods. So do I.
Another unspoken exchange.
Yes. About time.
“I love this,” Lorelei says, looking between us. “Can we do a group hug?”
I blink. “Oh. Well, I guess we—”
But I’m interrupted by her leaping forward. Then Theo. And Quinn. And finally, Bennett, too, with his warmth at my back.
The five of us stand there in each other’s arms with me buried in the middle. Eventually, Orson also steps in, tugging Emory by the arm to join. And finally, Landon casts his long arms around all of us.
“This is way too many people,” Emory grunts.
“At least we all smell good,” Quinn says.
Theo gives a wistful sigh. “All I smell is love in the air.”
“On a canceled wedding day too,” Orson adds.
“All right, let’s not ruin this,” Lorelei mumbles.
“It’s a good moment though,” Landon says.
“It is,” I finally add.
Then, Emory clears his throat. “Bennett, are you rubbing my lower back?”
“Sorry, thought you were Ruby.”
I couldn’t grin wider if I tried.
“Awkward,” Quinn whispers.
Lorelei giggles. “No. It’s perfect.”
And there’s a weird collective hum of agreement.
Yes, it’s perfect.