A Girl Like Her

Glares were her most common expression of thanks.

There are some things you don't get over. You just accept them and keep breathing. That's enough.

Ruth decided that the next time she saw Evan Miller, she would wear her best pyjamas.

Ohhhhh.” Marjaana grinned wide. “Still not seeing the problem. Unless you threw up in his mouth. Guys hate that.

I can’t say yes. I can’t say no, either.” He swallowed. Hard. “You’re not afraid of me. Are you?” “No.” She’d never been less afraid of a man in her life. “I just…” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t give you permission to fuck me over.” He smiled slightly. “That’s not exactly what I want to do.” “But you will,” she said sharply. Was this really what she thought? Yes. “You will, and when you do, at least I’ll know I never gave you permission.” He stared. She’d really fucked things up now, she realised; all the ways she was damaged had been neatly exposed in the space of five seconds, and he’d wish he’d never made her that bloody shepherd’s pie. Then he said, “I can’t tell you I’ll never hurt you. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Even though she’d known it was coming, it hurt. It hurt like the time she’d sketched her favourite teacher and the teacher had crumpled the paper and thrown it in the bin because she was supposed to be doing fractions, except this time the paper was possibly, maybe her heart. Or something. Evan grasped her hand firmly in his, drawing her attention back to him. “But I can promise,” he continued, “that I will always treat you as you deserve to be treated. That I will always respect you. That I won’t lie to you or betray your trust. I try not to say never, but I will say this: hurting you is something I would never choose to do. I swear.” She felt unwelcome prickles beneath her eyelids, threatening tears. How embarrassing. She hadn’t cried in years, and she certainly wouldn’t now. “I also know,” he said, “that I can’t make you believe me. I have to show you. I’m okay with that. But Ruth, you need to know that I won’t take this any further until you tell me what you want.” “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

Sometimes, being with Hannah was as easy as ever. Sometimes, being with Hannah was like tiptoeing through a landmine of Ruth’s own guilt and self-loathing.

their arms swinging close enough for him to fantasise about holding her hand. He wouldn’t, though. She might push him into the road.

There are some things you don’t get over. You just accept them and keep breathing. That’s enough.

Zach nodded and wandered off. He seemed to do everything with an oddly casual air. In fact, she wondered if he knew where he was going, or if he was just... walking. Then he stopped by a grey Golf and unlocked the door. Apparently, he had indeed known where he was going.

She told him everything she’d told Mr. Burne. But she told him other things, too. The little things Daniel did, the cruelties she’d barely noticed because they’d been wrapped in silk or laced with diamonds. The way he’d spike every compliment with a put-down, the way he made sure she knew that he wanted her—more than anything on earth, too much to leave her alone even when she asked—but no-one else ever would. “He’d say, you know… ‘Ruth, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, to me. It’s a shame other people won’t see it.

Her thighs shook as she walked.