this most assuredly counts [ruth]

[jess1z1]

Well, at least he had a conversation starter that was slightly less awkward than other sorts of question that could potentially pop up that evening: his face. Luke’s face was a colorful work of art a product of a recent bad evening. Pretty bad. A split lip, eyebrow and cheekbone were making people raise their own eyebrows upon laying eyes on him as they turned to say hello. A lame joke here and there made its way into some of the conversations he had with old friends and colleagues at the birthday party. Some of them he hadn’t seen since before his move overseas; the others were the people he saw every day at work and who he had done his residency with. The rest were unknown rich people acquainted with his rich plastic surgeon friend who was now throwing a very elegant, very snobbish birthday bash at his house by the shoreline. It was as good excuse as any to have some champagne and catch up with people he hadn’t seen in two years and, of course, to be a normal person who did normal stuff like have a social life, as opposed to hiding out in dark bars and getting into drunken brawls. It had taken Luke exactly one painful encounter with Ruth and one painful ass kicking to come to the conclusion that he had to move on and come to terms with the current state of his life and suck it up and be okay with it. Effective immediately.

By that point, most people he knew whether they’d been close or not was aware of what had happened to Luke and Ruth, and most people were sensitive enough to not bring anything related to the subject up in his presence, instead obligingly doing it behind his back. His closest friends, those who had been around at the time of the event, were forced to answer vaguely on his behalf while Luke only took questions regarding Mozambique and his new still unfurnished apartment and the cuts and bruises on his face. He would refrain from telling people the actual truth since retelling how he had decided to provoke a perfectly decent outsider, he knew, would raise more questions than it answered. So Luke went with a noncommittal joke or muttered a reply every time and left people feeling too embarrassed to ask him to repeat. Then he made it a point to vanish casually, before it was his turn to either answer or comment, when he was introduced to someone new and the topic of family came up. A ‘do you have children?’ would certainly make whoever had introduced him uncomfortable. He also made sure his champagne glass was always full; full full, not just half full. He’d only vowed to move on, not to be more optimistic. His body and face were still hurting slightly from the fight of a couple of nights ago and Luke found booze to be a better analgesic than anything he could grab at the hospital pharmacy.

There was a big terrace facing the beach, where Luke preferred to hang around once he had found a small group of people to stick with for the remainder of the evening. The only problem was that it wasn’t close to the bar. Every now and then he had to either look around for a waiter or travel inside to where the hosts had stationed the alcoholic beverages. In fact, he missed the punch line of a funny anecdote someone was sharing because he’d been staring resentfully at the glass in his hand. As much as he was enjoying the chilly night air, Luke excused himself and broke away from the small circle, making his way in to the house and through the other groups of people standing all over drinking and chatting.

(he seems to be developing a bit of a drinking problem i hadn't foreseen, lol. these characters just do as they please)

[ruth]

Ruth hadn’t been to a party by herself in years. Big social gatherings were never really her forte, so when she was invited, she usually had Luke by her side—a guarantee that she would know or, at the very least, like one other person at the party. While it wasn’t that she was antisocial, or even more of the stay-at-home, party alone types, there was just something strange about wandering into a party by yourself. It was kind of like saying ‘I’m just here for the alcohol and the hopes that some other pathetic soul like myself is here, single and on the prowl.’ Whether or not that was the intention of every solo party-goer, it certainly seemed logical to her. It was why, when you walked into a party that had a bar, that’s where you would find those that had either come with someone that left them or come alone. She hadn’t even planned on going to any party today, but after her meeting with Luke a few days ago and his last comment about getting in touch with the girls where she used to work, she decided it was about time. Slowly, at least. Just one person at a time; a previous close friend, a doctor and wife of a plastic surgeon. A plastic surgeon that, coincidentally, was turning forty and throwing quite the party.

She needed to get back out there, anyway, right? So, after being invited, she decided to dust off some of her nicer clothes, put her hair down for once, and join in all the fun. Until she stepped in the front door and found that she was completely lost in the sea of faces. Most of the people she knew before were likely just surprised to see her there, since communication had been lax the last two years. Lax… more like nonexistent. Shying away from several of the people she had once known well, Ruth did her best to stick towards the outskirts and go unnoticed. Apparently, she was not as prepared for social gatherings as she had thought. Every time there were looks shot in her direction or someone tried to approach her and ask how she’d been or, sometimes, where she’d been, she felt as though they were all judging her. ‘Oh, there she goes. You know that she just completely ditched her friends? Ditched everything, really. I hear she’s working in some hole in the wall now… what a great life she turned out to have.’

Whether or not it was concern or pity, she didn’t really care anymore. It was uncomfortable enough as it was, without having her self-doubts creeping up and projecting themselves on other people. Despite her previous resolve to not be one of ‘those’ single people, she finally weaved through the crowd as quietly and unnoticed as she could to get to the bar. Alcohol was certainly needed right now, and she didn’t care what it was. She obviously hadn’t thought out her plan of being friendly and out-going very well. She had good intentions of avoiding the booze and sticking to the crowds, but that was before she was actually there. Hearing one too many of the women talk about their husbands or kids or even their jobs was enough to make Ruth feel like leaving right then and there.

It was too bad that she had previously resolved to staying at least a good two hours, and it had not been anywhere close to that yet. On the plus side, this was before she’d even had one glass of champagne, so who knew how much happier she’d be once she got some alcohol in her. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with that idea, though, as the amount of people seemed to thicken quite a bit as she neared the bar. Since breaking through a crowd forcefully was hardly something Ruth thought herself capable of at the moment, it required a lot more ‘excuse me’s and ‘pardon me’s and occasionally sliding her hand onto someone’s back so they were aware of someone behind them. She would always glance and give them a little smile, just so they wouldn’t think she was inconsiderate for interrupting them or any conversation they may have been having. There was only one or two people in her way now and, as per her custom, her hand went to their back and she offered a quick, “Excuse me, please,” as she tried to slip around them. As she turned to flash a quick smile and a thank you when she managed to get around, she found herself stopping speechless again. For the second time in one week—this was getting to be ridiculous.

She wasn’t sure if it was because it was Luke that was standing in front of her that she stopped so suddenly, or if it was because he looked like he’d gotten into a fight with a meat tenderizer and lost. Instinct kicked in as she saw the cuts and bruises on his face, her hand quickly jumped up to his cheek and gingerly running over his skin. “What happened to you?” It took a second to realize both what she was doing and what she had said, pulling her hand back to herself and hiding it in the grip of the other and taking a step back. “I mean… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She left her words die there, clearing her throat and shifting her gaze to the floor. Damn, he made her feel so vulnerable, especially after their last encounter. The idea that the last way he saw her was crying was not a comforting thought… in fact, there really wasn’t much comfort at all, that she could think of.

Maybe that two hour commitment would be cut short.

( Oh, I made Ruth an outfit too... because I went polyvore crazy. )

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[jess1z1]

When he’d reached the bar and ordered more champagne, Luke was held by an acquaintance and practically forced to stay rooted close to the counter. As they talked, Luke decided to hang around at least until he finished his new glass and got another one before returning to join his group out on the terrace. The area was getting crowded, so Luke chose to speed up his drinking just in order to get away and cut short the conversation he was currently bored to tears by. Reaching over his interlocutor to place the empty glass on the counter and get a new one, Luke pretended to listen and hoped the bartenders were quick. He absently moved an inch aside when he felt a hand on his back and heard someone attempting to reach the counter. Absently as well, he turned to shoot a courtesy glance at the passer before quickly returning to his conversation. Except he didn’t quite return to his conversation, because his head immediately turned back to the woman who had been attempting to make her way past him. There was that stomach back flip again, taking him by surprise. Ruth was looking back at him, mirroring his expression, beautiful as ever, which he would have probably been able to appreciate more under different circumstances. At the moment, he was once more disabled before her, the person he’d been previously talking to sensing the awkwardness, shutting finally up and turning his back to them. Not that Luke noticed. He’d completely forgotten about that person. He’d forgotten about pretty much everything else.

Luke remained absolutely still when Ruth reached out to touch his face. At first he was simply so taken aback that he’d been unable to react. Then he was simply scared that if he did do something remotely stupid such as lean in to her touch or put his own hand over hers, as per his reflexes almost made him do, she would retrieve her hand and probably back off if the space around them allowed her. But despite Luke’s perfectly kept composure, Ruth still interrupted her caress, which had made him both feel an ephemeral comfort and as though his lungs had been on union strike, and pulled away with an apology that was enough to break the spell. If she had decided to run off now, Luke wouldn’t have known how to stop her. Luckily, they were surrounded enough that it would have proven difficult for her to do that. He wasn’t sure why he was so eager for her to stick close by when the mere sight of her, the shock, the situation were making his insides riot. But they were there, as far as he was concerned completely alone, and Luke had regained enough steadiness to process what she had asked. As he began to open his mouth, however, his cell phone went off. He paused only to take it out of his pocket with the same absentmindedness.

“I, uh…” He glanced at his phone. It read: HEADS UP RUTHS HERE. Good to know. So an eye was being kept out. He had just been listening to the rest of the medical staff speculate as to her whereabouts. They wondered if maybe she’d left town as well. Luke hadn’t joined in to explain that he’d just been to see her at that clinic. One thing was certain: nobody would have expected her to actually show up tonight. Not even Luke. Most would probably be surprised she had even been invited. Twisting his mouth slightly at the ironic timing, Luke put his cell phone away and returned his gaze to rest on Ruth. “You should see the other guy,” he said finally. It was one of the vague, semi humorous explanations he had been offering that evening. People sort of laughed and dropped the subject, wondering if he had really gotten into a fist fight or tripped down a flight of stairs but chose not to elaborate on his clumsiness. However, he felt no need to lie to Ruth. She wasn’t everyone else. A retelling of that evening would be highly unnecessary for her, however, since she had seen him in that state many times before and knew how at times he could still be just as reckless as when he was younger. He added, “I was drunk,” as a brief, yet loaded explanation.

Luke had been slowly connecting dots regarding himself since arriving back in Capeside. He had been avoiding things for several months but being back home was like ripping of bandages and forcing himself to look at the wound. It was beginning to dawn on him –thanks to several recent events such as going out with a new woman, getting arrested and growing the pair necessary for taking the step to (try) to confront Ruth— that he had never really taken the proper time to grieve. The first six months had been all about being strong for the both of them. He had been able to avoid his own state by doing everything in his power to take care of Ruth. Then he’d been too unsettled and angry about her rejection that he failed to deal. Afterwards, working with Doctors without Borders had been such a full time job there had barely been any time left to act out. Which was apparently happening now. All the more reason for Luke to be determined to move on. He was stuck, though, and that was a hard state to undo. But one way to start, for example, would be to be capable of being around Ruth without itching to burst. She was finally out in the world, it seemed, and that was great and Luke wouldn’t want to spoil it. He could leave their previous meeting behind and be civilized and try to not make things difficult for both their sakes and that of their acquaintances at this party. At the very least.

“Word on the street is you either moved to a different state or fell off the face of the Earth,” he continued after a pause, “A lot of people will be glad to see you.”

[ruth]

Ruth wasn’t sure what she had been thinking. Of course Luke would’ve been there. They’d always travelled in nearly the same circles, so it would’ve made perfect sense for him to have been invited as well. Sure, the last she heard he’d been in another country, but since she knew he was back, it was obvious that others would as well. She had no idea how long he’d been back—how long he’d been gone. Maybe it was more of a strange thought that she would be there. Two years and not one single event had the privilege of her presence, but now… after hearing that Luke was in town, she was randomly going to show up places? Perhaps she had been thinking exactly this scene. If she had stopped for even a minute to consider it, she would have realized that the chances of Luke being there were rather high. And the chances he would be expecting her? Slim to none. Whether it was simply because she wanted to be able to see him again or that she wanted to give him the same feeling she got when he was standing in the lobby of her clinic, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything at the moment. At the moment, she was far to confused to speak. Not only was she sorting through her own desires in the matter of why she had actually attended the party, she was trying to get over the fact that after her resolve not to have any more interactions with Luke, here she was running her hand down the side of his face.

She supposed she could ignore the fact that her instincts had caused her to want to take care of him… hopefully. Somehow, she felt like that wasn’t exactly going to fly in the long run, but for right now it seemed like the best option. But the part that was really causing her to stop was that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the whole reason she had shown up at this party was because she hoped she’d at least get to see Luke… if even from across the room. Apparently that wish had come true, and once again she was left without a clue as to what to say or how to act. Her first reaction was to lift her hand to her necklace, her index finger absentmindedly slipping the ring on and off her finger. It was less due to the situation at hand and more from nervousness—a habit she had picked up shortly after the divorce, when she’d stopped wearing her wedding ring on her hand and moved it to her neck. Whether or not it seemed logical to anyone else, Ruth didn’t feel she deserved to continue wearing the ring while, at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to completely abandon it. Regardless of guilt, and as strong of a hold as it had on her, she wouldn’t let that go.

Now the only problem was actually letting Luke go. It was easy when he was halfway around the world. With him standing in front of her, that concept seemed far more difficult. When he glanced to his phone, looking back to her a moment later and offering the standard, blow-off answer to what had happened, she simply dropped her gaze a moment and bit at the inside of her lip. Did she even have a right to pester him about this? She wasn’t sure what the ‘rules’ were for their interactions, and she wasn’t about to ask for a guidebook. In fact, she wasn’t going to press until he decided to add a final statement to end. Any doubts that his wounds had come from something other than a fight were removed at that point. It wasn’t that she knew Luke to be the kind of guy to start hitting random people on the street, but he also didn’t have the best track record in the past. Sure, it was a long time ago… but with enough alcohol and someone prodding him enough, she was certain he was capable of it… and the proof was very clearly in front of her. “Are you… alright?” Ruth managed to lift her gaze up to him as she asked, keeping it as steady as she could while still fingering lightly at the ring. Which, had she thought about it sooner, would have been tucked into her turtle neck to avoid the notice of Luke.

Alright? Ruth couldn’t remember the last time that she would’ve described her attitude or situation as ‘alright’. Would he? While the question could’ve easily been interpreted to mean simply his cuts and bruises, Ruth wished she had chosen a different way to ask it. Or, perhaps, not have asked it at all. As her mind searched for an alternative, without luck, she couldn’t help but wonder how she would actually want him to respond to that. ‘Oh, yeah, just fine. No worries here, babe.’ Hardly seemed like the thing she was looking for. But did she really want to hear ‘well… no, not really. But I’m getting through it all.’ Not that he would actually tell her that—or even want too, for that matter. Shaking her head quickly, she decided to simply retract the question before he could answer and just hope that he would leave it at that. “I’m sorry… it’s not my place to pry.” Dropping her gaze again, feeling incredibly self-conscious in front of him, she clutched her hands in front of her once again to keep herself from playing nervously with the necklace. There was no need to dray more attention to it than necessary.

One Luke shifted the subject to speculations about where she’d been, she forced a bit of a smile onto her face, trying to appear as composed and calm as possible. “I can’t really blame them,” It wasn’t like she’d been around that much. If Luke was willing to run to another country, it would seem logical to assume she’d hit the road too, right? It was certainly not something she had ever expected Luke to do. Especially not to Africa. While helping people had always been a part of his job, she didn’t think he had any desire to do it in another country. Apparently, even when you’re married to someone, they can constantly surprise you. And Luke certainly knew how to surprise her.

“It’ll be… nice… to see them too.” Nothing like lying through your teeth. And, as much as she tried to hide her doubts and anxiety about reconnecting with old friends, she felt incredibly transparent in front of Luke. Whether or not he was actually able to read her was another story entirely, but she felt like he was able to pick up on the slightest movement, regardless. Paranoia, perhaps… though, she didn’t doubt his ability to do it. Like she said, he always knew how to surprise her.

( Oh, I made Ruth an outfit too... because I went polyvore crazy. )

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[jess1z1]

This could be good. Not easy. Never easy. But maybe with a little practice, he would be able to at least talk to her as if there wasn’t a river flowing with memories between them. Maybe he would be able to talk to her as if she wasn’t the love of his life and his only remaining true connection to his son. But Luke would have to force himself to see things like that; because that seemed like the way to go from now on. And if he didn’t start now, then he probably wouldn’t be able to stay in Capeside and have a life.

They were exchanging words in a neutral tone, unlike last time. It was a start. Although it still stung a little (a lot, actually) that Ruth kept apologizing for showing those signs of concern, even if they were nothing more than proper manners and not actual concern; the concern Luke would have given anything for during the past thirty months or so. Those signs were like drops of water to a man who had spent days leaving a trail in the dunes of the desert. But if they were to remain impersonal for the sake of amicability… or sanity… Luke would play along and act as though he were talking to any old colleague such as the ones surrounding them at the party. He would ask about her job without being derisive and perhaps, eventually, after a few drinks, tread over the subject of her love life and ask if she was seeing anybody and pretend to be fine with it if the answer happened to be positive. Well, maybe it would be better to steer clear off that subject. So for the moment, Luke complied and stopped himself from sketchily telling her that she was, in fact, the only one in the world with a right to pry –ever- and that I’m your husband, not your next door neighbor, stop fucking apologizing at once and leave this party, right now, with me.

Instead Luke felt he deserved a medal for will power and discipline and trying to be a perfectly pleasant gentleman as he reached over to the counter and grabbed a new glass of champagne for himself and one for Ruth and handed it to her as she cordially lied to him about what a joy it was to catch up with old faces. It was somewhat darkly funny that the two of them would be drinking champagne together, a beverage meant for celebration, when it seemed as though the only thing they could do together was the opposite. Once again, eager to stray away from obscure thoughts, Luke chose instead to focus on their tentative small talk. And Ruth’s own faux politeness. It was as if she was talking to some talk show host instead of with Luke. This time Luke had to snort slightly as he looked at her. If you got past the initial feelings of longing and helplessness, there was nothing else to do but find the situation morbidly amusing. It was one thing to keep the conversation light, but her way of outright claiming that a perfectly uncomfortable social situation was anything but was funny enough coming from someone who didn’t have that constant need to be in control.

“They can’t hear you, you know? Music’s loud, it’s crowded…” said Luke, a small smile softening his features, “You don’t have to give publicist-approved answers. Besides, they probably won’t actually believe you’re here until you, you know, talk to one of them.” He paused to take a sip of champagne, his eyes idly traveling over her and coming to rest on the piece of jewelry around her neck. He had vaguely noticed her holding it, not fully registering the image and not quite realizing at the moment that it had drawn his eyes to it or why it had. He gazed at it this time briefly and superficially and turned to look back at Ruth’s face.

“So, how’s the clinic?–You’re gonna get that question a lot tonight. Might as well practice with me,” joked Luke, “You’ve been working there all this time?” He asked as casually as he could, although he did so with genuine curiosity. He knew when she had quit the hospital from what others told him, but now he wondered about her life between that moment and the present and how it was she’d ended up at the free clinic. He needed more than basic questions regarding work and living quarters, such as ‘do you ever torture yourself with home videos as well?’ or ‘did you miss me at all?’ but that would have messed up his plan, wouldn’t it?

As Luke brought his champagne glass to his lips to drink, something suddenly clicked in his brain and he halted, his eyes immediately shooting back towards Ruth’s necklace. His brow softly creased as his eyes rested more intensely on it. Something inside him turned. Surely that wasn’t her wedding band, was it? Luke’s own ring had been removed from his finger upon signing the divorce papers, squashing every hope he might have still harbored for fixing their marriage. And then the golden band had been put in a box, which had been in turn put in a larger box along with some of his belongings and which had in turn been stored with all of the other boxes. Luke had refrained from packing it and taking it with him to Africa, choosing only to take a few pictures of both Ruth and Michael, like the one he carried permanently in his wallet. Photos and videos and an old AC/DC baby t-shirt, also put away in storage, is what Luke had kept after his mother had taken up the task of helping them clean out Michael’s room, having waited a few months for Luke and Ruth to be ready for that; although Luke had never been quite ready enough to take part in it.

His mind had jumped to the exact place where his wedding band was stored and back to double check what he was seeing hanging over Ruth’s clothes.

“Is that-“ he looked at her in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the ring. His free hand flew up on its own accord to take it gently between the tips of his fingers. Immediately he recognized it. Luke raised his eyes to look at Ruth questioningly, not letting go of the band until a beat later. This was getting in the way of his plan. This was forbidding him from carrying on having an easy talk about the weather. Never in a million years would have Luke thought he’d find his ex wife wearing their wedding band around her neck. After all the time they had been together, how was she managing to mess with his head like this?

But succeeding at keeping his emotions in check, Luke simply downed the champagne glass and put his free hand in his pocket, where he was able to close it into a fist and let his fingernails dig into his palm.

“You still have it,” he stated lamely.

[ruth]

Ruth still couldn’t decide if this was exactly where she wanted to be, or if she wanted to run and hide as soon as the opportunity appeared. She hardly considered this to be a healthy, normal conversation, but it held a certain appeal to her. As awkward and self-conscious as she felt in front of him, the thought of just being near him brought her comfort. Whether he hated her, resented her, or wished she’d just get out of the way was irrelevant—the only thing that really matter was that, at one point, he had been her husband. He’d been her rock. She simply hadn’t expected for all of that to shatter and spiral out of their control. Maybe it had been her that had broken, not him. He had been there in the beginning, after all—no doubt from necessity rather than a desire—but it was her that had started it all. While being around Luke seemed to mask all of that, she found that, at the same time, it highlighted and emphasized it. Here was a man who’s life she had ruined, and the only man that made her feel like she was still alive.

Perhaps it was a cliché to refer to someone like that—to place so much focus on the fact that, when around them, you feel normal again. But there was no other way for Ruth to describe it. Since the divorce, she had been going through the motions of normal life. There was no passion behind her actions. If she truly thought about it, she’d have to say it was also true of her decision to go to the clinic. It wasn’t as if she felt called to it—there was no passion that fueled her decisions and urged her forward. It came solely from the fact that it was what she knew. There was no progress made; Ruth hadn’t gotten over anything… if anything, she’d gone right back to square one. From all the work she had put towards becoming an OB/GYN she had simply switched back to what she’d grown up with—what she could do in her sleep—and moved to the clinic. Her routine hadn’t changed once in the last two years. There were no random coffee dates on a Saturday afternoon with someone from the clinic. No dinner guests. No movies. There was the desperation to have something more, but never the will or the ability to achieve it because, without Luke and Michael, she had no reason to try.

Luke brought out both her desire to try harder and her doubts and fears of everything that could go wrong. It was impossible to decide if she loved or hated being around him, because her mind and heart screamed two completely different things. Damn him, she thought absently, her mind still searching for possible conversation points and, at the same time, escape routes.

Carefully taking the champagne glass from him, she did her best to keep her hand from brushing his. Physical contact seemed, at the moment, like the last thing she wanted. Or, more precisely, the thing she was trying to avoid, not necessarily the last thing she wanted. Had her emotions allowed her to overlook the fact that he blamed her for Michael’s death, she would’ve taken every chance she could get to let her fingers touch his or her hand to brush over his cheek. But, no. Not now—not ever; not when she felt so intensely guilty in front of him. Besides, he was no longer hers to hold, and she was going to accept that fact if it killed her.

As he pointed out her obvious lie about looking forward to meeting old friends, she shifted slightly and dropped her gaze once more. She half expected him to call her on it, but she still wasn’t sure how to respond. Honesty? Somehow, she didn’t feel that would go over the best. No, actually, I’m not looking forward to seeing anyone because, just like standing in front of you now, they all make me feel the guilt that I wish I could ignore. Luke wouldn’t mind that, right? Hardly. She wasn’t about to mention feeling judged or alone in a room full of people to him, partly because she found that, regardless of her intentions, those words simply wouldn’t come. Instead, she formed a vague answer and lifted her gaze enough to actually look at his face. “It’s… been a long time since I’ve seen them. Prefer not to go through all the catching up.” For some reason, explaining to everyone how she’d been the last two years did not seem like the best way to spend her evening. Or any of her time, for that matter. Because, regardless of peoples intentions, they were curious beings. They couldn’t help but ask. She wasn’t sure how Luke was able to come back after two years—out of the country, even—and just jump right back into friendships and parties.

Nodding lightly, Ruth shifted and found that thinking about the clinic was one of the easiest topics he could’ve brought up. Though, she hardly believed that he cared about it—it was likely nothing more than small talk. But, since he asked, she would at least respond in kind and answer. “A bit of a change of pace… but I think it suits me.” She paused, biting lightly at her bottom lip before considering how to answer the next question. Did she want to go into the fact that it took her almost a year to get herself back to a place where she could go to work? That, whenever she considered her previous job and everything connected to it, she would have another break down. It was bad enough that she had to get over the death of her child, but to reminded of what she didn’t have every day nearly killed her. Getting out of bed was hard enough without going to work to see all of the moms that still had their child or, worse yet, to tell a parent that their child wasn’t going to make it. Standard answers would have been good to prepare ahead of time, she realized, though she was a bit late now. “About a year.” Unless he asked for clarification as to what she’d done in the year before, she would simply leave it at that. If curiosity caused him to ask more, she’d think of something at that point.

Or, perhaps, she wouldn’t be given a chance. Before she even realized what he was asking, his fingers were reaching towards her necklace and grabbing hold of it. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hand lightly, her eyes shooting up to his own and remaining glued there. It only lasted a few seconds before he had let go, occupying himself a moment with his champagne glass before finally speaking. Yes, she still had it. She couldn’t let something like that go—couldn’t let him go, not that easily. It rarely, if ever, came off. Whether or not he realized it, she was still bound to him, and having the ring around her neck constantly reminded her of that. Having it on her finger meant something mutual… and, at the moment, she didn’t think there was anything mutual about it. He had no need to feel connected to her anymore, but she couldn’t get over him… maybe she wouldn’t let herself.

But how was she to respond to that question? She couldn’t tell if there was any anger or irritation in his voice. Did he dislike the fact that she still wore it? That, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to stop? Bringing her hand up to clutch at the chain, hiding the ring in her palm, she shifted and wished she could simply run away at this point. “I…” She paused, thinking over her next words carefully, unable to lift her gaze back to his face now and instead dropping it to his chest. “If you’d rather I not, I can… stop.”

God, she hoped he wouldn’t say yes.

( This is the longest post I've written for CPB, yet. At 1,362 words. outfit )

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[jess1z1]

Damn, he should have brought Mimi as a date. It would have made things more awkward, yes. But it would have at least dictated the way Luke was to act. It would have given him an excuse to remain formal with Ruth and to keep his distance from the beginning. Trying to talk had obviously been a mistake. Who was he kidding? It was too much, apparently, and his head was spinning, not due to the champagne, but due to his ex wife. And her strange signals. Why had she even attended the party if she dreaded the sole thought of seeing these people and talking about her life, which seemed to be the case judging by the vague answers he was getting from her. At least Luke was making an effort. He had kept in irregular touch with people on this side of the Earth during his absence, while Ruth had gone completely AWOLL and she had only moved a couple of blocks. At least Luke was attempting to regain a sense of normalcy and get back on some sort of track and without the help of a therapist; pure, sheer will moved him. Could her presence at this event be deemed as such? Or was it like before? She had been the one to end the marriage, while he had tried to actually do everything in his power to get them both out of the shithole their lives turned into after Michael. As far as he was concerned, Ruth thought Luke had failed as a husband and father and she couldn’t get him out of her sight fast enough. She had only reiterated it this past week, her feelings clearly unchanged after all this time. Much like her last name, by the way. Now here she was, unwilling to interact even with him, or especially with him, and it turns out she’s wearing her wedding band. Not on her finger, though. It’s some sort of strange memento hanging from her neck. Of what? Luke couldn’t figure it out. And he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.

He shrugged rather pointedly and he was no longer looking in her direction, but restlessly around, his hand still fisted in his pocket and his glass irksomely empty in his other hand. Luke still tried to appear as casual as possible, but the effort diminished with every second. He shook his head slowly, his eyes somewhere on the crowd to their side and his jaw tight although he wasn’t aware of it. He felt that turning to look at Ruth again could make things go differently. Whether that meant he would yell something or instead start to beg, it didn’t matter, because either option was unwelcome. But he had to turn in her direction, if only to end the pseudo chat and walk away. Thus, inhibiting a sigh, Luke shifted his eyes back to her.

“Far be it from me to tell you what to do,” he said, “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s none of my business. I gotta get back.”

With that, he backed away into the crowd, the long glass still empty in his hand. He didn’t politely tell her to have a good time or say that he would see her around. He wouldn’t have meant it. Besides, it was as if his head had been splashed with a bucket of ice cold water. Luke rarely ran out of things to say. The words kept forming in his head, but they had trouble finding their way out lately. Not globally. Just around Ruth or whenever she was concerned. He wasn’t yet at ease when he stepped back out into the open space and Luke had to command his pace to slow down on his way to the small circle of people who had too late alerted him of Ruth’s unexpected attendance. Halfway there, he stopped. Going back to the lively conversation (which was sure to turn into questions about the recent encounter) seemed nothing short of ridiculous now. Luke knew that if he stayed now, the rest of the evening would be spent pretending to listen to others and consuming one champagne bottle after another until he wasn’t able to drive home, let alone walk out of the party. It wasn’t worth it. Not only that, but his gut kept scratching at the walls of his body and Luke didn’t know how to put it at ease. He tried to resist the urge to look over his shoulder at Ruth, to see if she was still there. Running away from her again wasn’t going to cut it either.

Fuck. He needed to go back. He was going back. Bringing a hand up to massage his temple, Luke turned around and started in the direction he’d just come outside, eventually removing the hand from his sight to spot Ruth. By the time he caught up to where she was, he wasn’t thinking, just acting. His hand wrapped around her wrist swiftly but firmly, and he was oblivious to the couple of looks he received from strangers as he pulled Ruth a few feet aside to a spot by a large flower pot on the floor right next to the wall, still close to the bar but away from the crowd. He spun around to face her and let go of her arm.

“Why did you leave me?”

It would be an odd question for those who knew it had been Luke who had moved out of the house and not Ruth. But it was highly pertinent seeing as it had been her to turn her back on their marriage. And, more importantly, Ruth had been the one to file for divorce when Luke still thought it couldn’t be over yet. But it could still be an odd question simply because Luke was fairly certain that he knew the answer. And all he wanted at the moment, however, was to hear it from her; it was maybe all he had wanted for the past two years, what he had thought of as closure, the reason he had come back and why he hadn’t actually taken the last step in a dingy one-bedroom with lumpy bed on the first anniversary of Michael’s death. He just had to hear it and then it would be over for him.

“You think I could have done something?” he asked tensely, “I know I could have done something. I know I slept in that morning and I didn’t sense something was wrong right away, like you. I know-“ paused Luke, took a deep breath. “Just say it. I need you to say it. I’ll leave you alone this time.”

(and the dam is bursting, lol)

[ruth]

Her emotions had gotten the better of her, she was able to readily admit that. Ruth wanted to see Luke. Wanted things to be like they were before, though she knew that that was no longer an option. Even if they got to a point where they could have a decent conversation, she was never going to be able to take her problems to him. And, from his reaction and no doubt from the way he felt about her, he would never want to take his problems to her. She had spent the last two years perfecting her guilt and self-blame. It was no longer a matter of whether or not Luke really felt like she was responsible for it, it was simply that she thought he did, and from there she’d allowed that to become the truth. For all of the comfort he tried to extend and the effort he put into saving their marriage before the divorce, Ruth put just as much effort into harboring the feelings of guilt and inadequacy. What had started out as needing some time to herself to grieve turned into finding ways to make herself believe Luke hated her as much as she hated herself. It would have worked perfectly if she wasn’t still in love with him. Unfortunately, despite the feelings that forced her to build a wall between them, she still had a desire to be close to him. It was because of that that she was getting herself into situations like this. How many times did she need to be reminded that it wasn’t going to work; that he didn’t want to be around her? Apparently a few more times.

She found that it was easier to watch him once he had broken his gaze from hers. Dropping her hand from her necklace, she instead wrapped her arms around herself in a hug for a moment. Luke was apparently preoccupied by other people in the crowd or, rather, by his thoughts. The tension through his jaw and all around stiffness did not go unnoticed. Rather than assume it was due to an inner battle about how to handle the situation, Ruth saw only one way to view it; he was so utterly repulsed that it was taking everything he had to remain in control. His curt reply only served to reinforce her idea that he wanted to get her out of his sight as quick as possible.

This would be the last time, Ruth promised herself silently as she watched him leave for a brief moment. From here on out, she would commit herself to staying out of his way. She wasn’t going to be a burden or continually upset him like that. There wasn’t much that she felt she could still do for him, but staying clear of him was one thing. No doubt he was just trying to get on with his life. He’d actually seemed to be capable of attending a gathering like this without trying to constantly disappear into the background. He had the ability to move on and overcome things, and she admired that. The last thing she wanted was to cause him more pain and trouble than she already had. Wasn’t killing their son enough? Rubbing it by constantly trying to put herself beside him wasn’t going to help anything, and she wasn’t able to do that anymore. Once he’d somewhat disappeared into the crowd, though Ruth could still see him very clearly between a few people, she started to turn to leave. There was no use staying there anymore—for one, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle any conversation at the moment, and for another, answering questions and trying to reunite herself with old friends was a bit out of her current abilities. Not that she wasn’t able to say ‘Hello, how are you? Long time, no see.’ But anything further than that and she was rather confident that the words would simply not come. Besides, if she admitted to herself that the only reason she came was for Luke, then there was no point in staying after their little run-in. She’d seen him, she’d successfully reiterated her feelings that he was in no way interested in seeing her, and she was ready to go home. A warm blanket, the couch, and a glass of chocolate milk seemed as perfect as she would be able to achieve.

Now she just had to weave through the crowd without getting noticed or sidetracked by anything else and she would be just fine. It would likely be just her luck to get stopped ten feet from the door or something ironic like that. Having made it almost an hour without getting bothered much, she’d likely be swarmed with people now that she was actually committed to walking out the door. But, it wasn’t a bunch of old colleagues that stopped her. It wasn’t a fellow doctor or the host of the party. No, it was a hand that rather tightly gripped her wrist and started to pull her away. For a brief moment, she considering screaming or trying to rip her hand away, but it apparently took less time to realize it was Luke than it did for her instincts to kick in. Besides, the fact that he was pulling her out of the crowd was enough to shock her into silence. Though, if his actions hadn’t been enough to do it, his next question certainly was.

Why did you leave me?

Was it not enough that she dealt with the guilt already? That simply being around him reminded her of it? Now he wanted her to lay it all out there for him? Frowning quickly, she dropped her other hand to rub lightly at her wrist, though it was more from instinct than from actual pain. Before she had a chance to speak, he continued. And, frankly, she was confused by what he said. What was he trying to say? Furrowing her brow quickly, her frown deepened and she searched for anything nearby to focus her gaze on. Somehow, trying to look up at Luke right now didn’t seem like the best idea. The last thing she wanted was for this to end up like it had the last time they were together, and making eye contact almost undoubtedly assured that it would. The flower pot he’d positioned them beside seemed like a good subject for her scrutiny—anything that would keep her focused on something other than his face.

Still rather unsure of what he was looking for in her answer, she decided simply to go with what she felt. If he blamed her, at least she could apologize and get out of there as quickly as possible. Like an apology was really going to make everything better, right? ‘Whoops, sorry, Michael’s dead.’ Hopefully it’d be more meaningful than that.

“I don’t… you were sleeping. It wasn’t…” The leaves on the plant started to become a lot more interesting at this point. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t try to wake him up earlier… And I’m sorry that I went back to sleep. And I’m sorry… that I didn’t do more.” Lifting a shaky hand to her forehead, she brushed a few strands of hair away and tucked them behind her ear before shifting her position. Her arms were quickly folded in front of her again and, finally, she moved her gaze back to Luke for a few seconds. Already she regretted it, seeing as how almost instantly she felt a few tears spring to her eyes. Looking away quickly, she blinked them away and fidgeted lightly, trying to keep herself calm.


( Whoooo, gonna be like an avalanche now? xD

outfit )

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[jess1z1]

Even as Ruth finally met Luke’s eyes, which had been fixed on her from the moment she had opened her mouth and growing more and more confused with every word she spoke, he was at a loss. Only when Ruth looked away again was Luke able to make his head start working again. She had said sorry again and Luke could have sworn that she was merely setting him up for the exhibition of the list containing just each and every way in which he hadn’t been good enough and finally explain how sick the sight of him made her. But what followed her initial words didn’t sound anything like what he had expected. It was the last thing he would have thought he would get when he finally confronted Ruth. And it had managed to destroy anything that Luke had planned to say before they parted ways definitively once and for all that evening. He had resolved that after the exchange his outburst had prevented him from avoiding altogether, if they ever ran into each other again due to whatever they had left in their lives in common, he would say hello and stay on the opposite end of whatever venue they found themselves in. Plans never worked out, however. Ruth had just made any response invalid, because her apology made no sense in any universe.

Luke’s mind traveled back to that day in seconds. He had spent the past two years and a half relieving it almost daily, both unintentionally and on his own accord, which led to either working overtime a lot or drinking a lot. And like those other times, Luke went back to the moment he had opened his eyes that morning and the feeling of having rested that greeted him, which now made him sick to his stomach to think about; as sick as it did to remember that he had looked at the clock and seen it was much later than usual and the slow realization that Michael hadn’t jumped into their bed that morning and woken them up a couple of hours earlier. After that, Luke only remembers Ruth calling him hysterically and then just… rushing. Into his room, out of the house in whatever they had slept in, through the traffic and into the hospital. And maybe he remembers the rest of the staff forcing Luke and Ruth out of the examination room where a dozen hands were treating Michael. Prior to any of that, he only remembers feeding Michael the night before and shortly after, Ruth taking him to bed to tuck him in. Everything had been fine, normal. As hard as he tried to think back and search for any sign that Michael wouldn’t be waking up the next day, Luke couldn’t. Would things have been different if they had paid more attention? Tests and their colleagues’ knowledge and even their own said no. But it was hard to resign to that.

What Ruth was saying now, however, was mirroring those very thoughts and feelings and it had taken him aback more than anything could possibly had in the past two and a half years. The noise had faded for a moment and Luke was now beginning to hear it as the meaning in Ruth’s words failed to sink in. But now there was no dropping it and saying good bye and walking away. Fearing that they would be interrupted by someone who may or may not get the sense that he was having a more than slightly serious and painful conversation with his ex wife who he hadn’t in seen in two years, Luke spotted a door some feet behind Ruth and decided that it was a safer option than trying to slip out of the party and having to explain to someone just where they were going and why. Not that there was an explanation to give, either way. He put his hand on Ruth’s hip and led her with him. Luke was already regretting having lost control right then and there. It’s like he couldn’t get them away enough from the world to a place where he’d be comfortable talking about his son. But the door was, thankfully, unlocked and Luke was able to slip both of them inside swiftly and hopefully unnoticed.

It was quite a small room and most of the space was taken up by what seemed to be boxes. There had to be a light switch somewhere, but Luke didn’t try too hard to find it; in the end, he felt it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have their faces covered by shadow. He was facing Ruth, that much he knew, and before his eyes could start getting adjusted to the darkness, he spoke. This time, every word could be heard clearly with the chatter and music left on the other side. Luke would stop making an effort to keep the conversation calm and civilized; there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t start yelling at some point, but for now, all he needed was for Ruth to explain.

“What are you talking about?”

((absolutely! hope im not getting too godmoddy :S sorry i made you wait so long until to get this lame post, lol))

[ruth]

For a doctor, time was critical. Every second mattered; it was something that Ruth was positive that both she and Luke were aware of. Over the last two and a half years, Ruth could not say that her desire for perfection had gotten any better. In fact, if anything, she would have said that it had only gotten worse. She didn’t control it as much as it controlled here, recently. As much as she hated to admit that, she found that her urge for perfection was the only thing that kept her sane. The constant straightening or organizing was what kept her mind off other things. It kept her from considering and thinking about the fact that she really had no control over the things that she wished she did. Over the last two and a half years, she hadn’t figured out how to keep her mind from going back to that morning. If she could manage it keep her thoughts focused on something else during the day then she’d end up dreaming about it at night. If it wasn’t in her dreams, she couldn’t help but think about it all day.

It drove her crazy. It was one thing that constantly pointed out just how powerless she was in the entire matter. And yet, at the same time, she was plagued by the guilt that, had she not gone back to bed that morning, there would have been a different outcome. Two hours. That’s how she slept after slipping back into bed that morning, and by then it was too late. By then, there was nothing that could be done. Despite everyone telling her that nothing could have been done differently—that there wasn’t much that really could have been done in the manner, unless they had previous known about his condition, she had convinced herself that, if she had realized when she first woke up, he would have been alive.

That was the reason she’d pulled away from Luke. That was why, whenever he would respond with something that was intended to comfort her, she was so ready to reject it. If she couldn’t comfort herself because of her feelings, how could she accept Luke’s? Even as she stood in front of him, she was starting to feel like she wanted to run away. It wasn’t as if there were many places to run, and Luke seemed intent on keeping her by him. And why? Thus far, he really hadn’t made anything clear, except that he seemed intent of throwing all of it back in her face. If his goal was to make her feel like shit, he was doing a wonderful job at it. Though, really, it didn’t take much for her to feel like that, so she assumed she should cut him a little slack.

Yet, rather than some look of disappointment or anger on Luke’s part, he simply seemed confused. Though, her look didn’t mirror his until his arm had wrapped around her waist and he was pulling her along with him again. How many times was he going to move her around here? Did he intend to just dance through the entire crowd a few times? As if she didn’t feel self conscious enough by his side, she did not need him leading her through the whole group. She was ready to let out her breath and let a silent thank you echo through her mind when Luke headed towards a door instead. Though, once they were inside, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to thank him or, once again, try and run. It didn’t seem was though she really had that much of a choice, though. If nothing else, she found it at least some what comforting that it was so dark in the room. It gave her a chance to avoid his gaze and try to look at something else.

The floor seemed like the best option. Especially after he finally spoke, asking once again for clarification. Apparently, her answer really hadn’t been enough for him. He did want her to go through it all again. Although the momentary break in conversation was enough for her to regain her composure slightly, she could still feel her hands shaking lightly and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep her voice even for that long. But, if she could get it all out quickly, maybe that would be enough for him. She was hopeful, at least.

“I’m talking about… the fact that I understand,” There was a slightest pause, her gaze absently searching the room for something to focus on in the darkness. The next words from her mouth were harder to say than she had originally expected. While she had made herself feel fully confident that they were true, she had never needed to say them out loud. Especially not to Luke. Yet, as she stood in front of him and opened her mouth, she found that she couldn’t stop herself from letting them slip out. She surprised herself by how steady her voice sounded. In her head, she was a wreck. A complete mess, ready to fall apart any moment, and yet she gave off the appearance of calmness. It was funny, how accurately she could portray something that was completely opposite of how she felt.

“I understand why you hate me.”


( Hope that was okay. My mind is shot due too NaNo. <3 )

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[jess1z1]

Luke could barely make out Ruth’s face in the blackness, but he had her features memorized as well as the expressions that matched the nuances of her voice. He could even predict her posture when he was only able to sense and hear her movements rather than actually see them. Her voice had been level, unlike his own. A lot like during their encounter from only a few days prior. A lot like during most of their fights. She was always able to control herself better than him; or at least pretend to. Luke simply allowed himself to be taken over by his emotions easier than Ruth, but he had quickly learned to read her and knew it was merely the thinnest of lines allowing for the contrast of their reactions. So he wasn’t that taken aback by the cold manner in which she seemed to manage to approach the subject. It was something he knew already how to deal with. However, there was no denying it had become enhanced. Since they had barely talked during the months between Michael’s death and Luke’s departure, he was only now coming to appreciate the ways in which Ruth was different. She was there, but a version of herself. More on edge, if it took an eye like Luke’s to notice. In the past he could always measure her mood depending on how clean the house was. He wondered momentarily about that now.

Calmly she asserted again something that made Luke think they were having that conversation on different planes. And that she actually understood as much as he did, which wasn’t much. Her statement would have made sense in the context in which Luke spoke if he hadn’t already been aware of a miscommunication problem that probably dated back to that very period of time leading up to their divorce.

“No, I don’t think you do,” he said after a moment and went quiet again.

He had felt it unnecessary to specify that he didn’t hate her. There was no way that could ever be. But he did resent her. He resented Ruth despite himself. Even if Luke understood (or had though he understood) her motives for pushing him away, he couldn’t help resenting her for shutting down every single one of his attempts to fix things. Now, however, he was getting an unsettling feeling that all of his assumptions had been wrong. Trying to get the most hermetic woman he knew to snap and lay onto him just exactly what was going on inside her head had never been an easy feat. And there was only so much reading one could do from nonverbal communication. Her answers were too cryptic for Luke’s restlessness.

“Ruth…” he began again in the darkness, “You need to talk to me.”

It was like a déjà vu. He had said that to her more than once on the days after Michael’s service. But his voice didn’t have the bargaining tone it did at the beginning, when he had been trying to be strong and calm in order to carry them both. Back then Luke’s sole intention was to make sure Ruth was okay and he was convinced that talking would help. Then, the words left his lips like a command. When cooing and negotiating wouldn’t get Ruth out of bed on the bad days and Luke couldn’t stand it, he would drill sergeant her into eating. Eventually, he would say those words with a hint of desperation, after it had been months of his wife only retreating further into herself. Right now, he was saying them again and he was almost pleading.


(now look what you made me do! lolol)

[ruth]

The longer they lingered in the room, the clearer everything was becoming. Sight wise, at least. Ruth’s eyes were slowly beginning to adjust to the darkness and the outline of Luke in front of her was becoming more detailed as she blinked and let her eyes have time to fix themselves. What remained just as foggy, however, if not more so than before, was their conversation. The longer she stood there, the less willing to talk she was, yet the more it became apparent that she wouldn’t be given a choice. Her hands had dropped to her sides once they entered the room, but to calm their shaking she had quickly folded them both back in front of her chest and let her nails dig lightly into her forearms. Even with the layer of shirt separating the nails from her skin, she could still feel the sharpness of them. While the pain itself wasn’t necessarily something good, it offered her at least somewhat of a distraction. Something to focus on that wasn’t Luke and Michael and all the blame that was placed on her for everything.

Luke’s voice brought her gaze back in his direction finally, her eyes searching for signs of his emotions through the darkness. She couldn’t see his face well enough yet to know exactly what he was feeling or meant to be expressing, but her mind was all too quick to fill in the blanks where her sight fell short. Whether or not he had meant it, she assumed that, by saying she didn’t understand, it was to say that she didn’t understand just how much he hated her. The thought almost made her laugh, had it not been such a bitter one. She knew. She knew exactly how disgusted he must have been by her. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of why he would even want to be in a room alone with her unless it was simply to express his feelings about it. She wasn’t sure what hurt more; the hate she had for herself, or knowing that Luke shared in it.

The change of tone in his voice fell partially on deaf ears. She was almost unwilling to acknowledge anything other than anger or negative emotions in him at the moment as her own feelings were strongly pulling her in that direction. Despite her resolve, she could tell her hands were still shaking slightly. Had she not opened her mouth to speak, she would’ve been biting down hard on her lip to try and keep herself from crying. “I do… I do, because…” There was the slightest pause as she dropped her gaze and half turned away from him. It didn’t matter if she could actually make out anything about him in the darkness, she knew where he stood and she knew that facing him right now would be difficult, regardless of whether or not she could see him. “I understand because I hate myself just as much… or more.” She could tell that her voice betrayed her by the end, wavering slightly as she let herself speak aloud what she’d been telling herself the past two and a half years. Surprisingly, she found it easier to say that than anything else.

He wanted her to talk, so she would. She wasn’t going to ask him to forgive her—that wasn’t something she would try to force on him; but she could at least apologize honestly. She could tell him exactly what she had thought and that she had tried. Damn, had she tried. But, in the end, she had failed her duty as a mother and, ultimately, as a wife. How could he not have just as much contempt for her as she did for herself?

“I had been awake at six… like every morning, and I knew I shouldn’t have just let him sleep but I did. And I know I shouldn’t have gone back to sleep, but I thought that he would be fine—that he was fine. That he was just tired… And I nev—” Her voice caught in the back of her throat this time. Closing her eyes quickly, her fingers squeezed at her arms even tighter and she struggled to keep her composure. A moment later she continued, though far more quite than before. “I never thought something could happen to him—to us. And I was wrong… and I messed everything up.”

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