Borderline

Nine:Leaving it all Behind

Her head spun as her lips found his and his hand was suddenly on her back, on her neck, in her sopping locks of flattened curls. This was right. This moment, this man, was right. Nothing felt uncomfortable like she had imagined it would with every step she took on her journey right up to his front door.

The blanket fell silently from her shoulders and the rain continued to fall outside, a gloomy picture of dusk and dark clouds framed in the open doorway that she had been so afraid to walk through. Martin sighed blissfully and his warm, sweet breath fell on her face as the kiss was still unbroken. He shifted her around and discreetly closed the front door. Guiding her through the foyer, they found their way into the living room where a fire had been burning.

Martin stopped just short of reaching the couch when he pulled away to take in her beautiful face. He smiled softly and traced the curve of her cheek with the palm of his hand.

"I missed you so much," he said, looking into her eyes and watched as she blushed and couldn't help but smile.

Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "I missed you, too, Martin."

He smiled. "I hoped you did."

Martin took her around the waist and kissed her once again. His hands found hers by her side and he held them tight. Somehow, they comforted her, told her that everything was going to be okay simply because they were together. He took a seat on the couch and she followed.

He held her close, holding her head to his chest like she was his most valuable possession in the world. "Ruthie, I love you so much."

Her heart skipped a beat and the butterflies flew in her stomach. She looked up at him and caught his gaze, the fire's reflection dancing in his eyes. "I love you, too." Ruthie tenderly touched her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him close. She kissed him, not thinking about what would happen next. It didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was that she was in love with Martin Brewer and he loved her back.

Everything in the world, everything she had ever experienced, everything in her past was completely erased and they were the only things the existed at that moment. She was completely happy. Never once could she remember ever feeling so elated in her life and she could make no mistakes. Every wrong would be right.

Suddenly she was in control and he made no attempt to stop her. She felt like a different person now that he was back. He had been her only escape from everything in her life and he was the only one she could go to, real or imaginary.

She had to admit, though, the real Martin was much more comforting.

Ruthie closed her eyes, blocking the glow from the television and ran her hands through his dark hair. He shifted on the couch and leaned backwards to lie down. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, without caring either way, she followed him down and the ends of her wet tendrils were falling on his smooth face.

The embers from the fire crackled as Ruthie traced her fingers along the buttons on Martin's shirt. It was then that he opened his eyes and softly asked:

"What are we doing?"

Ruthie stopped and looked at his eyes that clearly held confusion. She pushed his hair back and replied in a voice as sweet as her smile, "I'm ready, Martin. Nothing else matters. I want you and only you. I'm ready to be yours."

"But what about –"

She put a finger to his lips and quieted his thought. "Nothing else matters," she repeated.

Martin studied her face and focused on her eyes. They were so sure he couldn't find any words in rebuttal. Instead, he tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Are you sure?"

Quietly, she nodded and leaned in to kiss him. He didn't object.


Ruthie squinted in the morning sunlight, unaware of her surroundings, only briefly disoriented. She was in Martin's bed and he was sound asleep beside her, shirtless with the blanket covering his bottom half. With a glance at the bedside clock, it told her it was almost nine o'clock.

She pushed herself up and out of bed, grabbing the throw blanket Martin had offered her last night when she had first arrived from the end of the bed. Walking over to his window, she pulled the curtains and opened the blinds. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, she watched through the window as the kids across the street were already up and riding their bikes around their driveway.

The clouds had cleared and the sun shone brightly down upon her. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Martin stirred in the bed behind her and she turned. He was sitting up and looked as if he had been studying her.

"Are you alright?" he asked in his morning scratchy voice.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." She walked over to him and eased down onto the bed.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't. You were perfect." Leaning over, she kissed him. "I love you."

He chuckled. "You look good in my clothes."

She looked down at herself in a gray T-shirt and black sweat pants. "Oh," she giggled. "I hope you don't mind. Mine are still wet." She nodded to the pile of her clothes on the floor in the corner.

"Not at all."

He got out of bed and gathered her clothes in one arm. His phone had fallen out of his pants pocket and landed on the floor. Quickly he checked it before he went to toss her clothes in the drier. There was a missed call early that morning from his father's cell phone but he hadn't left a message. He dialed the number back as he turned the drier on low.

"Hello?"

"Dad? Hey it's Martin. You called?"

Mr. Brewer cleared his throat. "Yeah, I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be staying a little longer than expected."

His father's voice sounded strange.

"Okay…Are you alright? You sound weird."

Mr. Brewer laughed. "Son, I'm fine."

There was someone in the background. A woman. She giggled.

"Who is that, Dad?" Martin asked, his eyebrows furrowing and his heart speeding up.

"No one, son - A business partner."

Martin could hear the faultiness in his father's voice. He was lying. To prove his point, the woman was purring something in the background that Martin was sure sounded like "Come on, Sweetie, come back to bed."

"Dad, what are you doing? Who is she? Don't lie to me!" Martin felt his anger boil.

"No one, Martin. I have to go, I'll talk to you later, okay? I love you, son. Goodbye."

"But, Dad, wait –"

It was too late. There was an indefinite click and his father's voice was gone. He held the phone in a shaky hand and just stared at the screen that repeatedly flashed "Call ended."

Autonomously, Martin made his way back to his room where Ruthie was waiting for him. She had been standing in front of his bookshelf looking at old photographs from his baseball days when she heard him come to stand in the doorway.

Her smiled instantly faded from her face and she became worried.

"Martin, what's wrong?" she asked as she walked over to him.

For the first time, he looked up from his phone and into her apprehensive eyes.

For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. His voice was repressed by the horrible reoccurring sound of that woman's voice in the background in his mind. It was several seconds before he found it again.

"I think my dad has a girlfriend."

Ruthie's heart sank. "What?" she asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice. "He told you that?"

"No. I heard her," he managed. He averted his eyes. "They were in bed together."

Ruthie's jaw dropped. "Oh, Martin, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine…"

He let his phone drop to the floor and allowed himself to be held. Martin pressed his face into Ruthie's hair along her neck. She put her arms around him and held him tight. There was nothing she could think of to say to comfort him. Ruthie couldn't discern if he was crying or just in shock as they stood there for a moment and then it became a windstorm in his room.

Martin suddenly pulled away from her without warning and stormed around his room, cursing his father and that "tramp" in his bed. He went to his bookshelf where she had stood just minutes before and wiped his arm across in one swift motion. All the picture frames tumbled loudly to the floor.

He screamed with rage and raced to the wall where a picture hung of his father and mother and baby version of himself and ripped it from its place.

"Martin, please stop," Ruthie pleaded with tears in her eyes. She was afraid to touch him.

He seemed to not have heard her, seemed to have forgotten that she was even there at all. Martin hurled the picture frame at the opposite wall, forcing Ruthie to dash out of the way as it hurtled through the air and smashed on the wall behind her. She screamed at the loud sound and glass shattered and fell to the floor.

"Martin, stop!"

He finally stood still and looked at her, his chest rising and falling violently as it cried for air in all his fury. He had become a different person, someone she didn't know at all.

"No, you don't understand!" he shouted at her. "My mother is dead! My mother is the one he is supposed to love! He can't be with another woman! He is a man of the military! You'd think he'd be the one to know the most about respect!" The word was spit from his mouth with so much disdain, Ruthie was afraid to say anything more. She waited, but nothing else was spoken.

"I'm sorry," she whispered from the other side of the room. She hugged her arms tight to her chest as tears rolled down her face. Martin had never been like this around her, and she never thought in a million years that he had a temper as bad as this.

He exhaled a sigh of desperation and slumped onto his bed, assuming the Thinker position, his head in the palm of his hand. Then the tears came.

Ruthie watched from a distance, her heart sinking lower and lower into pits of darkness. She couldn't stand seeing Martin this way. He was supposed to be the one that comforted her. He had gotten so good at it, he knew just what to say. Ruthie, however, was totally and utterly lost.

Seeing his broken form made her go to him and hold him. She pushed his head into her chest as a mother would do and held him tight. Caressing the back of his neck, she whispered in his ear continuously with every sob, "It's okay. You'll be okay. I love you."

"What about my mom?" he asked between shaky breaths. "I think about her every day. I miss her so much. I thought she was the only one my dad could ever love, ever touch, ever kiss."

"I'm sure your dad still loves your mom, Martin. It's just time to move on. He must be really lonely."

"But how can he just forget about her like that? He promised to love her forever. He promised."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He put his hands around her back as she kneeled in front of him on the floor. She tightened her hold on him. "I love you."