Page 121 of Rugger: The Huntress

The words I needed to say. The words I wanted to say. The words that were practical. None of them surfaced.

“Rugs?”

“Yes,” shakily, I responded.

“What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything feels– feels right.”

There was movement on the other end. After a few seconds, it all settled. Her voice appeared again, welcoming every emotion I felt at once.

“What’s his name?”

I released a stream of air as I wiped the lone tear that fell from my eyes. Why I was hurting so good, I’d never understand.

“Psalms.”

Silence toyed with the line.

“Listen to me well, Rugger.”

I nodded as if she could see me.

“You don’t need anyone’s permission to open your heart, baby. Not mine. Not Richie’s. Not Chemistry’s. Not any of the girls. I’ve waited. I’ve waited for this day— the day that not even the guns could protect your heart because something far more powerful is after it.

“You’re no fragile being. You’re solid. You’re hyper-independent. You’re a leader. You’re an alpha-woman. You don’t wait for things to happen for you or to you. You make things happen. You move mountains. You part seas. And, the world respects you because of it. But, baby, there comes a time– a time when a man enters a woman’s world and quickly asserts himself, letting her know that she can relax.

“She can trade her solidness for softness. Her independence for dependency. Her leadership for submission. That man will switch her survival mode to the subtle mode so she can do less, speak less, know less, work less, think less, and be less than she’s been for everything and anything else.

“So she can be more to him, moreforhim because that’s all he truly needs from her. He needs her to show up whole and not beaten up by the world and all else that comes with being a woman.

“Your time has come, Rugger. And, it doesn’t matter how much you fight it, you won’t win this one. You can’t shoot this one. You can’t kill this one. It doesn’t matter how well you’re trained or how good your instincts are. Bow out gracefully, baby, and allow Psalms to be everything he was born to be for you.”

Her words soaked my soul. My heart raged in my chest.

Bow out gracefully.

I’d never bowed out or even considered that degree of disappointment. But, this was different. I was different. He was different. And, if I was going to bow out, gracefully was how I’d proceed.

“I met his father,” I revealed, placing my forehead in my hands as my reality began to truly sink in.

“How was he?” She asked, yawning.

“Sad– Aggrieved. There’s a lack of resentment but an abundance of pain. It’s in his eyes, his smile, the lines that crease his forehead, his laugh, and his stride. He’s lonely, but still a father that loves his child, nonetheless.”

“Don’t let too much time pass before he meets yours.”

St. Catana was where Richie was laid to rest. Visiting the island meant visiting him. Visiting him meant visiting her. And Chem and the rest of the family. I understood exactly what she was hinting at.

“I won’t.”

“Merry Christmas, Rugs. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas.”

I ended the call and rested the phone on the bed beside the black pajama set that was decorated with red and white candycanes. I felt lighter. The hollowing feeling in the pit of my stomach was slowly dissolving.

I had quickly been reminded why my father had chosen my mother as his partner in this lifetime. Psalms had chosen me and I only hoped I could live up to whatever version of me he was aiming to produce.

---