mine {h.s.} | {b3}

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

n. make sure that you check out my new fanfic called initiate <3 (it's another dabble with dark harry so... oof)

— CHAPTER FOURTEEN —

july, year one.

Halfway through July, Ruth shows up at our door.

She has a car full of boxes, bins, and suitcases that are filled with her and Zana's clothes, toys, furniture, and odds and ends that they've accumulated over the past few years that they've been living with TJ in his apartment. Formally, she informed me, she had not been displaced. He had not asked her to move out. He had not kicked her out. The initiative was all hers after TJ finally invited Angelica to live with him. Just as quickly, Ruth had left. Living with the father of her child and child was one thing. Living with the father of her child, her child, the father's girlfriend, and the girlfriend's daughter was entirely another.

Noticeably, Zana isn't on her mother's arm. Ruth and TJ agreed that it would be best for them to split custody of their daughter. While she is still young and this is both a convenient and viable option, they plan on switching off every other week. As parents, they are very aware and understanding of the fact that this is the biggest challenge and change that their daughter will have ever faced thus far. Because of this awareness, they agreed that she would spend the transition period at the apartment that she is comfortable in. Once Ruth is all moved in and has Monty's old room converted into a space that their daughter will be comfortable in, Zana will begin spending every other week here. Ruth, too, was appreciative of the week that she will have to get settled in stress free. She won't have to worry about watching her daughter while having to simultaneously unpack her things.

Even still, I know that this is hard on her.

Harry and I helped her carry everything in. I helped her unfold the clothes in her drawers and hang things up in her closet. I cleaned out the bathroom that she would be using again—a bathroom that holds so many fond memories for us. Memories from when we were interns and this place closer resembled a hostel with the amount of traffic in and out than an adult's house. Harry, meanwhile, took the time to help move Monty's old furniture that had been left behind—not much, we had told him he could take whatever he wanted—into the basement to make room for some of the furniture that Ruth had ordered for her daughter. Dutifully and without complaint, Harry built it for her. After assembling all of Edie's furniture—and some of our own that we had purchased on a whim for the house that very quickly became ours—he discovered that he does have a certain knack for putting things together.

For the whole day, Ruth remained strong. She didn't waver even once in her emotions. Not when I excused myself to see my crying daughter who has taken to crying excessively these days. I know she is approaching her teething stage. I can tell it from the way that she cries. Her gums are in pain as the teeth begin to grow in. It's worse when she feeds and it breaks my heart, but I know that there is little that I can actually do for her.

When I returned into the room, I could tell that she was upset. "What's wrong?" I asked hesitantly, uncertain whether she would think that I was overstepping. Ruth and I can be guarded people. Once the wall is broken, there is no telling what will come out. But, I've come to realize that we always build the wall right back up after we break it down each and every time. This never ceases to amaze me.

Her lips pout outwards when she notices that I've returned. It takes me a minute to notice the red rimmed around her eyes. A shaky breath is exhaled before she answers, "This is the first time that I've not lived with my daughter."

Ruth has spent plenty of nights away from her daughter. Especially when Zana was an infant. Back then, we were residents. We were still pulling a lot of the shifts that no one wanted without much power to say anything about it. Such is the pecking order of the surgical hierarchy.