Page 20 of Heartfelt Pain (Ruling Love #3)

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Should I ask Trevino?”

“Stop using my bodyguard to spy on me.”

“How much water have you had today?” Abe asks.

“I. . .” Struggle to remember with the weight of their stares on me.

“Let me guess you had none.” He doesn’t need to voice his disappointment for me to know it.

“That’s really bad for your health,” Russ whispers .

“I don’t know if now is the time for one of your ‘I need to drink more water rants’,” I say.

“Did you eat breakfast? Huh?” At my silence, he asks, “Lunch?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” I mumble.

“How much sleep did you get?”

“What is this?” I question them.

Motherly concern pours from Russ. “We’ve just noticed how stressed out you’ve been lately.”

“I mean. . . I did find five of my ex’s killed, so yeah.”

“Before that,” Abe argues. “You’re not feeding your body enough vegetables, you barely drink any water. You work all the time.”

“Not all the time.”

“All the time,” he says, holding his hands out wide. “Are you forgetting I’m with you most of the day.”

“You’re working during that time too!”

Russ places a hand on Abe’s arm. “We were just wondering how you’d feel about a vacation.”

“Vacation?”

She nods clearly liking the idea. “You’re the most successful woman I know, Ren. But I think you could use a little bit more balance in your life.”

“Balance?” I’m disoriented by how united they are in their worry. “Have you guys been talking about me?”

Guilt crosses Russet’s face first. Abe is slightly better at hiding it, but he hangs his head.

“In all fairness your work effects Ben,” he quietly says.

My chest tightens. “And. . . Ben thinks I need balance.”

“Ben thinks you’re going to have a heart attack,” Abe says in that same gentle tone. “You take meetings between eight in the morning and eight at night. Aunt Macy worked half that time. You’re bringing in business, but at what cost, Ren? You won’t let anyone help you. ”

“Ben helps me.” The idea cuts into me—what Abe’s really concerned about. “But you think I’m hurting Ben.”

For so long he’s been my ally. Except I’m hurting him. A pit in my stomach begins to gnaw.

“No,” Abe quickly says. “But there’s growing pains. You either need to let Ben take more of your meetings and split the work. Or think about limiting new clients.”

“But that’s not how you make money.”

“How do you want to live, Ren? Working seven days a week until your body falls apart?”

I shake my head. “My body isn’t falling apart.”

Russ bites down on her lip. “You told me you were having back pain?”

“Who doesn’t have back pain?” I ask. It’s a part of getting old.

“You’re only in your twenties,” she chides.

“So what? I go to the chiropractor and you guys will back off?”

They have the audacity to share a look.

“Adding balance to your life isn’t bad,” Russet says. “You could finally read one of our book club picks. Taking breaks leaves you feeling more refreshed.”

“You guys are acting like I’m a zombie of some sorts.” My head aches as I listen to them. “I like my life. I’m not complaining about it. And I’m not sick for wanting to grow my business as much as I can.”

Next, they’ll start pestering me about children and my biological clock. I won’t take it.

“I’m not a robot,” I tell them. “I go to book club, I pick songs on the jukebox, I hang out with my friends. Why are you guys saying all of this now?”

“Because going through the motions isn’t the same as living,” Abe says, “and I don’t think you’ve lived since Cliff.”

I blink, my nose tingling.

I killed my cousin. I didn’t know him very well, but I killed him all the same. Rising from the ashes is hard work, but I did it. I fucking did it.

And now they’re telling me I’m wrong to have worked so hard. To have built up my business.

Russ looks down at her shoes.

There’s a knock on the door. A small voice says, “Guys, it’s me.”

Russ lets Lennie in. She’s wearing sneakers and they represent my failure to understand the dress code.

She takes a look around. “What’s wrong?” Her feet nervously shuffle. “You guys already talked to her.”

It’s a bullet to the chest.

Of course, Len would be a part of their intervention prep talks.

My voice is hoarse. “It’s probably pretty weird to have four people in a bathroom with Trevino right outside. I’m going to go.”

“Ren.” Russ reaches for my arm.

I don’t meet her eye. “I’m going to go.”

Trevino hasn’t moved an inch from where I left him. “I’ll order the car back.”

“Thanks.”

“I can get a separate one for your friends.”

It’s spoken plainly, but it’s Trevino’s version of kindness. I blink, pushing my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

The bathroom door opens again, and hopefully, Abe overhears so he knows he’s getting a separate ride.

“Please don’t leave angrily,” Russ whispers.

“Don’t worry I won’t make a scene.”

Her shoulders slump. “It’s not that. Fuck, if you want to throw some plates around I’ll find some of Yelena’s best china. We’re worried about you is all.”

I nod. It’s all I’m able to do .

Using all the skills I’ve learned over the past few years, I wipe my face blank. When Sailor comes running up, I smile and wish her a happy birthday.

“Thank you.” She clings to her mother’s legs and then asks, “Can I have more cake?”

“You’re dreaming,” Russ says with a wide smile. Like three minutes ago she didn’t just have me cornered in the bathroom.

Max comes prowling up. “You look like you’re headed out.”

The ironic thing is I never once came into contact with his twin.

“Here’s a party favor,” he offers, holding out a bag with cartoon fairies on it. “Would your bodyguard like one too?”

“Max.” Russ elbows him. Then as if the extra candy will placate me she says, “Take it for him.”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Thanks. Thank you for you having me.”

“Thanks for coming,” Russ mumbles making Max look over at her, frowning as he catches on that not all is right.

When I turn, Yelena is standing directly in front of me. It’s the first time seeing her.

“Thank you for the invitation.” She’s wearing all blue, though she looks more like a queen than a grandmother at a birthday party.

“Thank you for coming,” she replies primly.

Maybe it’s my pantsuit combo, but I hold out a hand. She stares for a second before shaking my hand.

“Let’s do lunch this week,” I suggest.

Yelena ignores the ripple of surprise around us. “That would be lovely,” she replies.