CHARLES FOX
The next morning came too fast. I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ruby—saw her smile at that guy, saw her in his arms. It was like I couldn’t escape it. The more I tried to push it away, the more it gnawed at me. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with questions, none of them with answers I wanted to hear.
Eventually, the sun started creeping through the blinds, casting the room in a pale, gray light. I couldn't stay here any longer. I needed to move, needed to do something before I went mad. Throwing off the covers, I got dressed quickly, my mind still buzzing with frustration. I couldn't stop thinking about Ruby—about who the hell that guy was and why she had been so damn happy with him.
I grabbed my jacket, stuffing my phone into my poc
