Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Ruby

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Miguel says.

I open my eyes to a light-filled room. The curtains are open, the sun is shining, and the sky is a clear blue. I consult the wall clock and groan. “It’s only eight.”

“How’d you sleep?”

“I slept well, thank you.”

That morning, we have breakfast on the balcony, watching the view across Lake Shore Drive. It’s a beautiful day out, and lots of people are taking advantage of the weather and enjoying their time on the water. Boats are flying across the horizon, left to right, right to left. The beach is filled with people.

Miguel reaches for my hand. “What are you thinking about?”

I turn to him. “Just how much I loved visiting the lake with my mom. We’d make a whole day of it. She’d sit on her beach chair and read a book while I built sandcastles and played in the surf. I miss that. I miss being by the water, all the noises, all the excitement.”

“Why don’t we go?” he asks.

My heart stutters. “Go to the beach?” He makes it sound so easy.

“Sure. It’s only two blocks away. Let’s go.”

* * *

“Are you ready?” Miguel asks me.

I nod. No.

He unlocks our door and opens it, then reaches for my hand. He links our fingers together and leads me out of our apartment. I stand frozen while he closes our door and locks it.

“It’s okay,” he says as he puts an arm around me.

I know he can feel me shaking. I feel sick, queasy. My pulse is racing. I can’t do this. He thinks I can, but I can’t. It’s too far away. The space is too open. It’s not safe. Anyone could be out there.

I stand rooted to the spot, and Miguel waits patiently beside me. He’s not pressuring me. He’s not pushing. Just waiting.

“I’ll be with you every step,” he says. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

I close my eyes and focus on breathing. I picture the lake, the water ebbing and flowing, the water splashing on the beach. Boats in the distance. Sailboats, yachts. Seagulls soaring through the sky.

Miguel pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me. “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay. We don’t have to go. We can go back inside.”

Even though he doesn’t complain, I’m sure Miguel is tired of being cooped up inside so much. It’s not fair to him. And I know more often than not, he chooses to stay in with me.

“No, I haven’t changed my mind. It’s just hard.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “I know.”

“I want to do this, Miguel. I really do.”

“How about we just walk to the elevator? We’ll stop there and think it over. How’s that?”

I smile. “Baby steps.” It’s all about those baby steps.

“That’s right.” He takes my hand and gently pulls me forward.

I take one step, then another. And another. And before I know it, we’re at the elevator.

“So, what do you think?” he asks.

I find myself staring at the call button. At that down arrow. “What if there’s someone on the elevator?”

“If there is, we’ll wait for the next one.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Do you want to push the button, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.” My hand shakes, but I manage to press the button. Immediately, the elevator doors open, revealing an empty car.

“It’s all ours,” he says. He holds out his arm to brace the doors open.

I stare into the elevator as my pulse races. My heart’s pounding, and my chest feels tight.

“Together,” he says, and he gently pulls me by the hand into the car. Once we’re in, he pushes the button for the ground floor.

When the doors whoosh shut, I stumble backward until my back meets the wall.

Still, he’s right beside me. “You’re doing great,” he whispers, and then he drops a light kiss on my lips.

I know what comes next. We’ve talked through this a dozen times. The elevator will let us out in the ground floor lobby. We’ll cross the wide open space and exit from the front revolving doors. We’ll walk across the parking lot to the sidewalk, and then it’s a two-block walk to Lake Shore Drive. We’ll cross at the crosswalk, and then it’s just a few hundred yards to the beach.

The beach.

Lake Michigan.

And people. Lots of people.

The elevator does a little shimmy when we reach the lobby. Fortunately, we didn’t have to stop for any other passengers. The doors slide open, and Miguel guides me out. It’s Saturday morning, and the lobby is bustling with people coming and going from the building.

“To the doors,” he murmurs, reminding me.

I nod.

The guards at the front desk smile and nod to us as we pass by. As we make our way to the revolving doors, other residents come into the building laden with shopping bags. They’re all smiling, their faces flushed. A few of them smile politely as they pass us, having no idea that I’m this close to having a meltdown and escaping back upstairs to our apartment.

But I don’t want to make a scene, and I don’t want to embarrass Miguel.

A moment later, I realize we’re standing still in the center of the lobby, while a small crowd passes us. A woman with a baby in a stroller walks past us. A young couple with a small dog on a leash are next.

Miguel’s hand slowly runs up and down my back, a warm, comforting reminder that he’s here with me.

The two things I’ve wanted for so long are right in front of me—security and a normal life. I just have to have the courage to reach for them. Miguel gives me the security I need, but the normalcy part is up to me.

I take another step forward, toward the doors. Miguel keeps pace with me. A boisterous group of teenage boys races into the building, talking loudly, jostling each other. One of them is holding a basketball, which he tosses to a friend. The friend has to scramble to catch it, bringing him right into our path. Their friends howl with laughter.

“Hey, guys,” Miguel says to them as he steers me out harm’s way. “Take it down a notch, okay?”

“Yeah, man, sorry,” says the boy holding the basketball.

They continue on their way, laughing and elbowing each other.

Another few more steps brings us to the revolving doors. Miguel holds me right in front of himself and we step through together. We’re deposited outside the building near the valet parking podium. Cars are lined up in front of the building, along with taxis.

Miguel steers me to the side, and we head for the sidewalk. When we reach the walk, he turns me to face him and peers down at me. “Doing okay?”

I nod, but I must look far from okay because Miguel frowns.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure.”

It’s two blocks to Lake Shore Drive.

Just two blocks.

I can do this.

As we pass townhouse after townhouse, I squeeze Miguel’s hand. The sidewalk is relatively empty at the moment, but I can hear the boisterous crowd on the beach—children’s laughter, squeals of delight, dogs barking.

As we approach Lake Shore Drive, the sound of traffic is nearly deafening. So many lanes of traffic streaming by. Every time I hear a car horn, I flinch. While we wait at the crosswalk for the light to change, a small crowd gathers around us—families, couples, people on bikes, people on skates, joggers. Miguel pulls me close, his arm around me. I’m pressed against his body, which is a reminder that I’m not alone. He’s with me. He’ll keep me safe.

This is real life. This is the real world, and I’m standing in the middle of it. I’m part of it, just like everyone around me. I glance up at Miguel and find him watching me intently. He smiles, and I smile back.

I can do this.