Page 110 of Velvet Chains
She poured a second cup and slid it toward me without saying a word.
I drank.
We didn’t talk for a while. Not about the feds. Not about custody or court dates or who might be listening. Just silence, thick and warm, broken only by the sound of the heater kicking on and the clink of her ring against ceramic.
It felt like being human again. Like coming in from the cold.
“I used to think you’d ruin me,” she said eventually, voice quiet. “Not just in the obvious ways—career, reputation. I mean ruin me. Who I am. What I believe.”
I looked up. Tilted my head. “Did I?”
She met my eyes, and for just a breath, something unguarded flickered there. Not forgiveness, maybe, but nostalgia. A warmth I hadn’t seen in years. Then it was gone.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe.”
Her thumb dragged across the lip of the mug. Her shoulders tightened.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she added. “And you won’t like it.”
I set the coffee down. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just watched her.
The illusion was over—but I wasn’t ready to let it go.
Her mouth pressed into a line. She looked down at the floor, then back up at me like she was gauging the safest way to throw herself into traffic.
“I’m going to divorce Julian.”
I raised my eyebrows, doing my best to hide the surge of satisfaction that raced through me. “Good. About fucking time.”
“Kieran, that’s not why I’m telling you this,” she said. “It’s not a good thing.”
“I mean, how can this be bad? This is good. This is great. I want to celebrate.”
“I’m not finished,” she said, voice steady. “I told Julian to adopt her.”
I blinked. “He hadn’t already adopted her?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t have majority custody, Kieran. Now he will.”
My gut went cold. “What? Why?”
“Because this is what I have to do.” Her hands were clenched around the mug now, knuckles white. “This is what needs to be done to protect her.”
The words hit like a bullet I should’ve seen coming. Not fatal—just deep enough to leave a scar. My vision went hot for a second. Not blurry. Sharp. Hyperclear. Like I could see the seams in the air, like everything around me had snapped into painful focus.
“So what does that mean?” I asked, even though I already knew.
She didn’t answer right away. Just tightened her jaw and stared into her coffee like it might give her courage. Then: “Julian. I asked him to adopt Rosie. Legally. We’re making it part of the divorce.”
My stomach dropped.
“You mean the divorce you haven’t even filed yet?” My voice wasn’t loud. It was something worse—controlled. Low. “The one you haven’t talked to me about, except in cryptic goddamn riddles?”
Ruby looked up at me now, finally, her eyes hard and tired. “We aren’t anything, Kieran. You made that happen. I don’t owe you details on my divorce.”
“I made a mistake!” The words tore out of me. I was on my feet before I knew I’d moved. “Years and years ago, I made a mistake! Why—are you going to keep punishing me about it forever?”
“I’m not punishing you,” she said, standing too, matching my volume now. “I’m protecting Rosie.”
