FRACTURED (7 page)

“I was going to call Carmen...”

“She was elated, Ruby. She'll be so glad to see you alive and well...even if she can't see Matty.” His tone was somber, and I fought against the growing sorrow he felt. We were awkwardly quiet after that as we made our way through the cemetery. I eventually lost my battle and his energy penetrated me, adding to my cloud of growing sadness. He had loved Matty like a little brother. That was plain.

As we neared the plot, I noticed the sea of black encircling it. My heart skipped, realizing what was in the center of that sea, and the end of my denial was official―tears spilled onto my cheeks effortlessly.

Without skipping a beat, my escort offered me a tissue, which I gladly took. I had left my purse in the car, not wanting to carry that and an umbrella in the likely event that I would fall and have no free hands to catch myself with. It also left me without my stockpile of Kleenex.

“Thanks,” I said, sniffling.

“I've gotten really good at having those on me,” he said soberly.

“There haven't been a lot of dry eyes in my house lately.”

Just then, he was called away by his wife, leaving me to deal with the metaphorical knife he'd just plunged into my side. I caused those tears. I brought that sorrow on his wife. His children.

I wanted to run back to the car and hide, but instead, I found a station near the rear of the massive crowd. Matty always joked about how expensive his wedding would be one day because his family was so enormous. Based on what I saw, he wasn't kidding; there were easily two hundred people in attendance. I did my best to blend into the background, but I made a pointed effort to be sure I could see his casket. For some reason, seeing it eased my pain rather than intensified it.

The sermon was done entirely in Italian, leaving me unable to follow, but the beauty of the priest’s words was apparent, regardless. The priest sang as Matty was lowered into his final resting place, his words traveling so clearly through the air. I felt carried away by them, then realized that I was actually walking forward toward the grave on guided feet. I swore I could actually feel Matty's arm around my shoulders, guiding me towards him―his resting place. When I finally stopped, I was standing right next to his mother, whose cries snapped me back to reality.

For years I had been influenced by the emotions of others, but nothing before had ever come close to the rawness that she felt in that moment. My knees buckled, and I fell upon them beside her, taking her hand in mine. Physical contact only intensified our connection, but it was what she needed and the punishment I deserved, so I stayed where I was, weathering her storm.

I looked up at the faces around me, red and tear-stained, and reached out for their energies―all of them. Taking it all on at once was masochistic, but pain had a tipping point for me, allowing it to become welcome and warming. In that moment, I was
so
there.

The rest of the funeral was a blur. Someone helped me to my feet at the end, and I was engulfed by the swarm of people trying to pay their respects to Matty's parents. Emotionally exhausted from the ordeal, I tried to make my way out of the mob and back to my car. I had dropped my umbrella somewhere in my journey to join Matty's mom by the grave, so I was left exposed to the freezing rain that viciously pelted me with the gusting wind.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my stomach and tried to escape as quickly as I possibly could. My heels repeatedly sunk into the wet sod, eventually leaving me with no choice but to take them off or suffer a sprained ankle. My black-stockinged feet were frozen instantly, causing me to break into a jog through the centuries-old headstones, barely able to see through the veil of precipitation around me.

Once I located the entrance gates, I started to run full out, but I was no longer just running from the elements. I was running from Matty and the emptiness I felt without him.

In a flash, I was no longer running at all. Instead, I was sprawled out on the concrete walkway, hosiery torn, coat ripped, knees and hands bleeding. In my haste, I had overlooked a small grave marker, snagging my toe on it. It was a classic Ruby move. I hoped that somewhere Matty was having a chuckle at my expense.

I managed to pry myself off the ground and locate my shoes that had flown through the air during my fall. Soaking wet and completely disheveled, I decided to walk the rest of the way to the car. It seemed the safest game plan.

As I approached the gates, I heard a voice calling my name behind me. I turned to see Matty's mother, Carmen, hurrying carefully towards me. My heart sank instantly. Offering her support was one thing, having to face her directly was another. Even in my frozen condition, I could feel the sweat bead along my neck, rolling slowly into the back of my black cashmere sweater-dress.

“Ruby!” she called one last time before I acknowledged her.

“Carmen...,” I started, unsure of what to say. “I'm...I'm so sorry.”

That was all it took. I choked on the last word, unable to speak further.

“I know, Ruby,” she said, pulling me into a crushing hug. “My baby's gone. He's
gone.
But you're still here...Matty would be so happy to know you're all right.
”
Her sobs came violently, body convulsing with the purging emotions. “My girls are all I have left now,” she eventually added after gaining some amount of composure. “How did this happen?

How could somebody take my Matty from me? From you?” she asked, her eyes searching mine wildly for answers.

I felt faint, thinking that I was going to pass out for certain, right there in front of her.
I
had the answers she sought.

“He loved you, Ruby. More than you probably even knew,” she said softly. “You were all he talked about from the moment you walked into that first class with the company. He marveled at everything about you for the longest time. We joked that he had a crush on you, which seemed to be exactly what it was in the beginning, but then something changed. It became more than a fascination with somebody who was more together than the girls he'd dated in the past; he knew you two were right for each other. After your first performance together, he came home and told us all that he had found the girl he was going to marry one day. She just didn't know it yet...”

She took my bleeding hands in hers, her expression becoming far more serious again.

“The news report said that you couldn't remember anything about that night, Ruby, about what happened to Matty,” she said, moving in dangerously close to my face. I couldn't breathe. I was so afraid of what she was going to say next that I stood frozen. “Regardless of what occurred, I am certain that he would be glad to know that his last moments were spent defending you.”

My knees weakened, but thanks to my grip on Carmen, I managed to stay upright. I saw the rest of her family off in the distance, headed our direction, and I panicked. Having all of them engulf me was more than I could bear.

“Carmen, I...I have to go,” I said, choking back a sob.

“He
loved
you, Ruby,” she repeated. “Please don't ever forget that.

He wanted you to be part of our family one day.”

I tried to pull my hands free, but the middle-aged woman's grip was like a vise. I started to back away, but she resisted, pulling me closer.

“You
are
family, Ruby. You have been from the first time we met you,” she said, hugging me one last time. “That's what Matty would want.

We love you too, Ruby.”

I tried to return her sentiment, but it came out so strained and strangled that I'm not sure she understood. I didn't stick around long enough to find out, turning to flee the instant she let me go. It took only seconds to break through the entrance gates out onto the sidewalk in my stockinged feet. Momentarily forgetting where I had parked, I scanned the street for the TT, which was virtually useless given the density of the sleet falling rapidly around me.

Once I determined where I needed to go, I continued running down the street to my car. I needed to get out of the cold, out of the elements, and away from Matty's family before they could unknowingly inflict any more pain.

There were few cars on the road given the conditions, so I ran along the parked cars, hoping to make it easier to spot my own. As I neared the TT, I saw a man leaning against a car just across the street from me. He stood stoically, staring at me. I thought my day couldn't have gotten any worse, but, once again, the Universe had my number.

Sean moved to cross the street, and I screamed a sound so desperate and pained that the loud, shrill noise rang out through the neighborhood.

He froze in place, just staring at me, his face expressionless from what little I could see. My outburst hadn't been for him; it was for me―a cleansing of everything I'd pent up that day. Whatever fate Sean held for me, I couldn't face it. Not then.

He said nothing, just stood by his car, motionless. As more tears ran down my face, camouflaged by the falling sleet, I shook my head 'no' at him slowly, then turned and ran the rest of the way to my car. I got in without looking back and drove off as quickly as the weather would permit.

My body was numb, either from the cold or the fear and emotion that overwhelmed me. I fought hard against my growing rigidity to keep the car on the road. But regardless of what caused the icy feeling coursing through my veins and the paralyzing sensation overtaking me, I was very clear on one thing.

That was not the homecoming with Sean I'd hoped for.

7

It took me three hours to drive back to Portsmouth in the deteriorating weather. During that time, New England had amassed eight inches of snow and counting. The TT may have had appropriate tires, but thanks to the layer of ice already on the road, she didn't fare as well as I would have liked. Just outside of Seabrook, NH, on I-95 North, I found myself doing donuts in the center of the road, praying that I wouldn't hit any of the cars around me. Making it through that ordeal unharmed was a blessing, but I still had several miles to go, and I found myself white-knuckling the wheel the rest of the way. My distress over the funeral, as well as seeing Sean, had to take a back seat to the driving crisis at hand.

I heard my phone vibrating in my purse beside me, but didn't dare reach for it. Whoever it was could wait until I was safely home, in one piece. It was most likely Cooper checking to make sure I hadn't caused a twenty car pile-up on the freeway; the irony was that I almost did.

I was relieved when I pulled up to my home, wanting to just leave the TT out front and make my way inside as quickly as possible, but parking on the street was not an option, so I managed my way down the side alleyway and left my car in the secluded parking lot that was hidden between two other buildings. I knew I would be plowed in, but where to leave your car in a New England storm was always the million dollar question for those who lived in town, and I made do with what I could. I wasn't exactly in a hurry to go anywhere.

After cramming my battered feet back into my stilettos, I wobbled my way to the main entrance of my building, using the brick façade for stability. Once inside, I took a deep breath, leaning against the door for support. It had been a long, trying day, and I was so thankful it was over.

All I wanted to do was clean myself up, climb into some warm jammies, and curl up on the couch. With that plan in mind, I worked my way up the stairs to my apartment.

The sound of my clicking heels alerted Cooper to my arrival, and he swung the door open abruptly, looking the slightest bit frazzled.

“Jesus, Ruby. What happened to you? Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing my unkempt appearance.

“Long story, Coop. It's been a rough day,” I said, dragging my weary body into the house.

He flashed a look of acknowledgment, remembering why I'd been gone in the first place. He ushered me to the couch, his arm around my shoulders, and helped me sit down.

“How was it?” he asked softly, taking my hands in his. I winced slightly when he brushed a cut that was barely scabbing over. He frowned when he looked down and saw them, immediately getting up to go retrieve something from the bathroom and returning with a warm washcloth. Without another word, he started to clean them up.

“It was awful, Cooper,” I whispered. “He's
really
gone, and his family―the pain―I couldn't take it.” I watched while he delicately wiped the dried blood from my hand, turning the washcloth over and over in an attempt to find a clean area. “He loved me, Coop,” I admitted, my voice laden with guilt.

“Of course he did,” he said, finally meeting my gaze. “It's impossible not to.” He smiled weakly as he brushed a cluster of drying curls off my face, tucking them gently behind my ear. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek with the same tenderness that he'd just shown me.

“That's not exactly what I meant,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward.

“I meant he
loved
me, and not just after his Change, but before. Long before, apparently.”

Cooper stopped cleaning my hands and looked at me intently.

“How long before?”

“Months,” I said, before hesitating; I wasn't sure I wanted to open my emotional can of worms. “His mother said he wanted to marry me. He told her I was the girl for him, and I killed him, Cooper. I can't take this!

The guilt is unbearable...” I launched off of the couch and paced frantically through the living room. Something had to give, and it needed to do it soon. The scream I'd let out in front of Sean was only a momentary release of pressure. If I didn't find an outlet for the rest of it, the lid was going to officially blow.

“Ruby, just calm down for a second,” Cooper said, following me on my wandering path through the apartment. “You
have
to know that you didn't have a choice. He wasn't their son anymore―”

“But that's my fault too, Cooper! Don't you see? Everyone around me—close to me—pays a price for that! You, Peyta, Matty...even
Sean
.

The Beauchamps would have, if we hadn't caught the Rev when we did.

Christ, Cooper, their
baby
would have been killed. What kind of fucking person endangers everyone around them? Everyone they love?” He had no answer for me, though the pain in his expression indicated that he wished he did. “You see? Even
you
can't deny it.”