Page 27 of Love’s a Script (Hearts Collide #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Too quickly, Ruben had subsumed Mary into his routine, placing their conversations among daily tasks like meal preparation and chores.

But he was confident that by the end of the week, things would be back to normal; all he had to do was remove all opportunity for his brain to lament the break in pattern, to note Mary’s absence.

So, for the last two nights, Ruben would get home from work and fill his evenings with absorbing activities.

He’d drag out his stationery bike and ride for an hour, focusing on keeping pace and breathing.

A loud playlist accompanied his showers, and he’d eat dinner while perusing social media.

Dishes were completed with the TV on in the background, and he’d read or watch a few episodes of an old sitcom until he was tired enough to fall asleep quickly.

On the third night of this temporary routine, he’d just finished brushing his teeth and had returned to the living room to collect his phone and found he’d missed a call from Mary six minutes ago.

He didn’t hesitate as he called her back, and it was only while the phone was ringing that he considered she might’ve pocket dialed him. He didn’t care, though, and all his intentions of keeping his distance were lost to his quickened pulse and the possibility of even a brief interaction.

When Mary finally answered the phone, her voice was a salve that soothed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have called,” she said.

“It’s all right. You good?” He posted himself against his kitchen counter so as not to get too comfortable. This would be short, he told himself. But Mary’s response was choppy, unintelligible garble.

“I can’t hear you,” he said. “You’re cutting out.”

The static crescendoed before clearing. “Better?” she asked.

“Yeah, kinda. Where are you?”

“Parking lot of a convenience store. I wanted a root beer float.”

“A root beer float,” he said with a laugh, his eyes panning to the stove’s clock. “It’s ten.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, “it was a long, shitty day, so I decided to go wild.”

His chest heaved. “What happened?”

She didn’t answer right away.

“Did you at least get the root beer float?” he asked.

“No, the store had the root beer but not the vanilla ice cream.”

“I have vanilla ice cream,” he said.

“Does it have dairy?”

“No, but I promise it’s good.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He laughed. “Only one way to find out.”

There was a pause. “You inviting me over?” she asked.

He should’ve backpedaled. It would’ve been the wise thing to do, but the idea that he could do something so simple as providing an ingredient for a float and improve her low spirits was too irresistible.

“I am,” he said before giving her his address and hanging up.

While Ruben waited for her to show, he straightened his entrance area and double-checked that the ice cream was still nestled in his freezer amongst the frozen vegetables and microwavable meals.

The buzzer to his apartment rang sooner than he’d expected, and a minute later, Mary was at his door.

“Come in,” he said, taking the pop bottle she’d brought.

“You’ll have to let it rest for a second,” she said, keeping her puffer coat on but removing her boots. “I dropped it on the way up.”

Ruben retreated behind his kitchen counter as Mary settled against the back of his sofa and looked around his place.

“Is it weird that I’m here?” she asked.

“No. Do you feel weird being here?”

She shook her head. “But I did only call because I wanted to vent to someone.”

“About your dad’s situation?”

“No, actually,” she said, her voice momentarily brightening. “It turns out his girlfriend is who she says she is.”

“That’s great. I’m glad E came through for you.”

“Me too, and thank you again for connecting us.”

He nodded then forced himself not to fill the preceding hush, and eventually, Mary said, “I didn’t get a role at work that I really, really wanted.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound hollow. He knew all about professional disappointments and how much they hurt.

“I knew there was a chance I wouldn’t get it,” she continued, “and I was ready for that. But I feel almost betrayed by the person who did get it.”

“Why is that?” he asked gently.

“Betrayed is probably not the right word, but I heard she went to our boss and directly pitched herself for the job. Around me, though, she acted almost like she was too good for the role. And I get it, we’re just coworkers, not real friends.

She doesn’t have to disclose anything to me, but I guess I feel embarrassed for not knowing that until now. ”

Ruben struggled for what to say, not knowing what Mary needed in her moments of sadness, but she suddenly took a long exhale and said, “Glad I was able to admit that out loud.”

“You feel better?” he asked, searching her face.

She smiled. It was so good to see. “I do. Thanks for listening.”

“It’s no problem,” he said, looking away as something in his chest caught. “So how about that root beer float?”

He pulled two tall glasses from a cupboard, the ice cream from the freezer, then searched his drawers for an ice cream scoop.

When he turned back, Mary had removed her coat and was standing by the counter.

His nerves rattled, and he gripped the ice cream pint, letting the icy burn take his focus from her and the tight, long-sleeve T-shirt she wore.

As he struggled to put a dent in the hard surface of the ice cream, he mumbled his frustrations.

“Ruben—”

“I should’ve gotten this out to soften a little.”

“Ruben, I?—”

“I know, I’ll run the outside of the container under warm water and?—”

“Ruben.”

“Yup?” he said, reluctantly meeting her gaze.

“I’ve missed our night calls,” she said, her voice soft.

He nodded and replied just as softly, “Me too.”

Time changed rhythm then, slowed down. Tension accumulated, building and filling the gap between them. It might’ve dissipated if either of them had had the sense to look away, but they soon reached a point where they were too far gone. They rushed into each other’s arms, their lips finally meeting.