After draining the last of the orange juice, Ruby took a steadying breath and glanced at the sticky note on the fridge once more. Rent. Bills. Groceries. The realities of her reckless decision glared back at her, unrelenting. For a moment, the weight of it pressed down on her shoulders, suffocating. She turned away, forcing herself to shake off the anxiety.
The apartment was still quiet, too quiet, the echoes of her own thoughts bouncing off the walls. If she didn't keep moving, the doubts would swallow her whole.
Padding to the bathroom, she flipped on the light, the harsh white glow making her squint. Her reflection met her: wavy, red hair tousled and tangled from sleep, the strands spilling messily over her shoulders. Her green eyes still carried the shadows of a late night, hints of tiredness beneath the fire. Her skin was a little dull, her freckles more pronounced than usual.
She splashed her face with cool water, hoping to feel more awake, more capable. Stripping off the wrinkled shirt she had slept in, she stepped into a quick, hot shower. The water pounded against her shoulders, soothing her muscles, clearing her head.
When she finally emerged, she wrapped herself in a towel and wandered to her bedroom, her mind beginning to settle. There was no point in sinking into the panic of what-ifs. Not yet. She needed to stay grounded. She had earned this day, the chance to breathe, to think, to just "be" for a moment.
She pulled open her closet and scanned the options. She wanted to feel comfortable, but she refused to give in to the temptation of old, faded sweatpants or an oversized, shapeless sweatshirt.
Instead, she slipped on a pair of soft, high-waisted leggings that hugged her legs, paired with a loose, off-the-shoulder gray sweater that draped elegantly. It was cozy but had a little edge to it: effortless, stylish. Her hair, still damp, hung in its usual wild waves, framing her face with a kind of natural chaos she had long since stopped trying to tame.
She caught herself in the mirror and smirked. Even now, there was something freeing about looking exactly how she wanted: no dress codes, no expectations. Just her.
Barefoot, she made her way back to the living room, sinking into the worn but comfortable gray sofa that had been a hand-me-down from her sister years ago. It was familiar, a little frayed at the edges, but hers. She curled her legs beneath her and reached for her phone, which had been left abandoned on the coffee table.
The missed texts still lingered on the screen. Leah first. Her best friend knew her better than anyone, and part of Ruby wondered if Leah had sensed something yesterday, a crack in the mask she always wore.
~ Leah: "Drink after work? You need it."
Ruby smiled, thumbs tapping quickly.
~ Ruby: "Girl, I need more than a drink."
It took less than a minute for Leah to respond.
~ Leah: "Uh-oh. That sounds ominous. Spill."
Ruby stared at the screen, the reality of what she'd done settling back over her. She could almost hear Leah's voice, her mix of concern and curiosity. Instead of texting a whole explanation, she typed:
~ Ruby: "I'll tell you in person. Tonight? Your place?"
~ Leah: "Yes! 7? I'll have wine."
~ Ruby: "Perfect."
Her fingers hovered over her phone, and the screen dimmed slightly. Her sister, Natalie, deserved to know too. Her sister would freak out. She would question every decision, worry, analyze, and dissect. But Natalie loved her, even if her concern sometimes suffocated.
Ruby opened a new message.
~ Ruby: "Hey, so… I quit my job yesterday."
The text felt heavy the second she sent it, like a confession. The bubbles appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Appeared again. Finally, a response.
~ Natalie: "WHAT?"
Before Ruby could type a response, her phone rang, Natalie's name flashing across the screen. She took a breath and answered.
~ Ruby: "Hey."
~ Natalie: "You quit your job? Are you serious?"
~ Ruby: "Yep."
A pause. She could picture Natalie standing in her tidy, well-decorated kitchen, her baby daughter probably clinging to her leg or perched on her hip. Natalie always seemed so… put together. So capable.
~ Natalie: "Ruby, what happened? Are you okay? Did something happen with that awful boss of yours?"
~ Ruby: "Kind of. I just… I couldn't do it anymore, Nat. I was miserable. Every day was the same, and I felt like I was suffocating. I just had to get out."
~ Natalie: "But without a plan? Without something lined up?"
~ Ruby: "I know, I know. It was impulsive, but I don't regret it. Not yet, at least."
Natalie sighed heavily, the sound of it a mix of frustration and concern.
~ Natalie: "Ruby, you have bills. Rent. Groceries. How are you going to manage all of that without a job?"
Ruby stared at the wall, the reality of her sister's questions pressing down on her like a weight.
~ Ruby: "I have some savings. I'll figure it out. I just… I needed to breathe, you know?"
There was a muffled sound in the background, followed by a tiny voice. Ruby's heart softened; she knew it was her niece, Isla. Probably tugging on Natalie's shirt, asking for attention.
~ Natalie: "Hold on, honey. Auntie Ruby did something crazy again."
Ruby chuckled softly. Isla's giggle, bright and innocent, filtered through the speaker.
~ Ruby: "Hey, Isla!"
~ Isla: "Auntie Wuby!" a small, excited voice replied.
The nickname tugged at her heart, momentarily soothing the anxiety thrumming beneath her ribs.
~ Natalie: "Look, Ruby. I just worry. You know that. I want you to be okay. I don't want you to struggle just because you felt trapped."
~Ruby: "I know. I get it. And I promise, I'll figure it out. I just needed to do this. For me."
Another sigh. Softer this time.
~ Natalie: "Okay. Just… keep me updated, all right? And if you need help, real help, not just a night of avoiding your problems with Leah, let me know."
~ Ruby: "I will. I promise."
They hung up, and Ruby sat there for a moment, the quiet of the apartment settling around her. Her sister's words lingered, a tether of concern and responsibility. But the space between her breaths felt a little wider now, a little more open.
She leaned back into the couch, pulling a throw blanket over her legs. The sun had risen higher, pouring through the window and casting warmth onto the room. It was quiet. Freeing. Terrifying.
Her phone rested beside her, a small connection to the world she had left behind and the uncertain path ahead. Her mind drifted, caught between guilt and hope, fear and relief.
The world outside her apartment felt limitless and unknown, but here, in this moment, she had time. Time to think, time to breathe, and time to decide what she wanted next.
For the first time in years, she could finally ask herself, "What do I want?"
And no one else could answer it for her.