I blew out a breath and my eyebrows tugged together. “Okay.”
Goddamnit. What was wrong with me? I didn’t want that to happen.
Ruby wrapped the towel tightly around her and padded on her bare feet over to the dress that was still dripping onto the textured floor. She moved slowly, as if giving me every opportunity to stop her. Instead, I sat hunched over with my elbows on my knees, staring at the ground while I listened to the sounds of fabric swishing and rustling.
As she dressed, I tried to pull my thoughts together and force my confusing feelings into words. I’d hung onto my anger for so long, it was hard to just let go.
Her towels were tossed into a laundry bin. She slipped her feet into her heels. Time was running out on me, and it drove me to my feet. “Ruby.”
The damp pink dress clung to her like it was painted on. Even though she wasn’t tall, she looked statuesque on her heels, framed by the large windows behind her. Like she was a work of art.
She waited expectantly, and maybe with a kernel of optimism, for me to say something, but I faltered. I didn’t usually have a problem with words. I could wing a closing argument if needed, as long as I had the bullet points I wanted to hit. Making the transitions between them was easy. But when it came to her, nothing was simple.
Her shoulders fell, and hope visibly drained out of her.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, her tone containing a terrible sense of finality to it. “There wasn’t anyone else for me. It’s five years too late, but . . . I’m sorry I lied.” Her expression was devoid of any emotion. “Goodbye, Kyle.”
Her words paralyzed me. I stood stock still as she walked steadily to the door and went through it, never turning back to look at me once.