She shakes her head and huffs out a breath. “Whatever you say, Grumpy.”
I could take that moment to say more—confess my feelings and hope they’re reciprocated—but Ruby’s not meant for me, so I let the moment pass.
She leans forward with her hands clutching the edge of the tailgate, her legs swinging back and forth. “I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah? I have something I wanted to tell you, too.”
“You go first,” she says.
“I bought a house.” I hold up the keys as if the house is going to magically appear if I jingle them. As pathetic as it sounds, I didn’t have anybody else to share the news with apart from Connor, and it’s been weighing on me lately. There’s nobody in my corner, and if I’m honest with myself, it’s lonely as fuck.
“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” she says. “Where is it? What does it look like?”
“You know the old Landry house near the lake? It’s been empty for years. Needs a lot of work, but I’ve always been decent with my hands.”
“I bet you have.” She smirks. “I can’t wait to see it someday.”
I slide a little closer on the tailgate, and our fingertips brush. She glances down at where we’re touching. Her pinky slides over mine as our eyes lock.
“I could show you this weekend if you want,” I say.
Her expression sobers, and she pulls her hand away. I instantly miss the fleeting connection. “I’m… moving to Nashville on Friday. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I got a job at one of the bars downtown. They have open mic nights.”
A lump lodges itself in my throat, but I swallow it down. I try to school my expression so she can’t see my disappointment. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading. Ruby is leaving.
“That’s amazing, Ruby. I’m proud of you.” I smile weakly and hop off the tailgate.
“You’ll probably be needing this.” I reach into the truck and hold out her battered guitar, covered with stickers.
She pushes it back against me and shakes her head. “Keep it. A little something to remember me by.”
“I don’t need a guitar to remember you.” I place it back in the truck anyway, greedy to keep some part of her with me when she’s gone.
She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her cheek over my racing heart. After a moment, I reciprocate the embrace and inhale her scent, memorizing the feel of having Ruby in my arms for the first, and likely the last time.
Unable to resist, I tuck an errant strand of golden hair behind her ear, reminding myself why I started calling her Goldie all those years ago. She’s always shone brighter than anybody I’ve ever met.
“Keep in touch. Even when you’re out there touring the world.”
She smiles, and a piece of my heart falls into the palm of her hand. “I will. Send me pictures of the house. Keep me updated on the progress. I want to see it when it’s all finished.”
“Yes, ma'am."
She rises onto her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. I wish I didn’t have a beard in the way so I could truly feel her lips on my skin. “Goodbye, Liam.”
“Bye, Goldie.”
She mounts her horse and rides back to the ranch, taking my heart right along with her. Regret settles in the pit of my stomach as I watch her go. When she’s nothing but a speck in the distance, I finally get in my truck.
That night, I drove to the tattoo shop in Willow Valley and inked three words into my skin. Ruby will never be mine, but she’ll always be a part of me.
The memory fades, but the distant pain lingers in my bones. For ten long years, I thought about that night. The memory of a younger Ruby riding off on horseback blurs with the image of her headlights disappearing around the corner.
I put my truck in drive and head back home. It’s killing me to let her go, but I knew this day would come. I knew I couldn't keep her this time. I was a stop along the way. A placeholder for something better. It’s what I’ve always been?—
Stable.
Reliable.
