Page 152 of Ruined

“I’ve never thought of you as a pink person,” Cal says as he scans over the photo frames and dolls on her dresser.

All the furniture is spotlessly white. The four of us are comically out of place in here.

“I don’t have anything against the color,” Athelia says. “I even still like it. Just not this much.”

Cal whips around, a frame in his hand. “Who’s this?” he demands.

Peering closer at the picture, Athelia says, “Oh, that’s Joey.”

“And who the fuck is Joey?”

“Why?” Athelia smirks. “Jealous?”

Cal’s expression hardens. He’s not usually one to get harsh with Athelia—or anyone, unless we’re working—but right now, he looks intimidating as hell. “When was this taken?”

Athelia’s cheeks tinge pink as she rolls her eyes. “Jesus, calm down. He’s my cousin. He lives in California, so I don’t get to see him often.”

For another second, Cal watches her closely, and then he sets the picture down. “Don’t fuck with me like that again, Athelia.”

That seems to make it click with her—that he was being one-hundred percent serious. No one else is allowed to touch her but us.

Athelia takes his hand in hers and brings it to her lips, kissing his knuckles tenderly. “I know I’m yours, Cal.”

“And that’s never changing,” he adds firmly.

With a glowing smile, she wraps a hand around his neck and tugs him downward into a kiss. “Good.”

After that, we have an uneventful meal with Ruth downstairs. Athelia is… tame when she’s around her mother. There’s no sarcasm, no joking, noanything.She’s quiet and agreeable and much more well-mannered than I’ve ever seen her.

We let Ruth in on some parts of our lives. Wes tells an endearing story of when he was a kid—from when his dad was still alive. I talk about my summers spent in France. Cal sticks to stories from high school and college, skillfully avoiding any mention of his parents.

“Oh, I should show you the photo albums I have of Athelia,” Ruth says. “She was such a sweet little girl.”

Sinking into her chair, Athelia groans. “Please don’t.”

Ruth winks at me. “She always thinks she can deny me of one of the best parts of being a parent—embarrassing my kid.”

“I for one am quite excited for that part,” I reply before taking a sip of the wine Ruth poured for me.

“Fuck you,” Athelia grumbles.

Ruth sighs. “I’d tell you to watch your language, but I suppose you’re an adult now, aren’t you?” She places a hand over her heart. “It feels like just yesterday that I was catching you after you took your very first steps.”

Athelia grins. “I wish I could say the same, but… you know. Don’t remember.”

The rest of the evening proceeds much like that. Ruth ends up showing us tons of photos of Athelia throughout her childhood, and we soak it all up. I love getting a glimpse into who she was—and who she still is.

Cal is having trouble staying awake, so he heads to his room to take a quick nap until Bill comes home. Wes mutters something about a shower, and before Ruth can tell any more embarrassing tales of Athelia’s childhood, Athelia suggests we take awalk.

“Just around the property,” Athelia tells Ruth. “We’ll stay away from the roads since it’s dark.”

With a knowing smile, Ruth shoos us out of the house. The evening air is refreshingly cold as we take a path that winds through a large garden. A lot of the trees are lit up, and I’m sure it’s breathtaking in the summer.

“There’s a little gazebo over here,” Athelia says. Now that we’re outside, her pace has slowed, and she seems more relaxed.

“You’re not yourself around your mom.”

“Are you?”

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