The Ruiz Brothers - Part 6

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「 ✦ Ongoing ✦ About me ✦ Table of Content✦ 」

Settle in and let the city lights wash over this fragile reunion—some truths are harder to face than others.
Rated M - mild language, alcohol, suggestive content, emotional distress, mature themes

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False Hope

Braydon lurked in the corner of a back-alley club.

Blasting music, concrete floors, smoke-stained walls and shadowy figures seductively curling along slippery shafts of steel. It was a place where attention stroked ego, where loneliness met illusion, and where shame found solace — a fitting setting for blurred lines, broken vows and trust.

He raised a glass to a nearby dancer, making a silent toast to shattered bonds.

His brother was probably better off without him. Lucian never bothered returning any of his frantic calls or texts — as was to be expected. Braydon began to make peace with the fact that they may never speak again. The events of that night still played in his mind. He could have shut things down at any given moment. Brooding over the true reasons for his motives only drowned him further into the murkiest paths of his mind, where self-destruction became a way to make the world reflect his own brokenness.

No words could ever explain or justify that to his brother. 

Maybe things were better this way.

He hadn't exchanged a single word with Kachine either. Not because he was being insensitive, but because they had nothing to discuss, other than the dumbest mistake of their lives, which didn’t need saying. They both paid the toll of selfishness — the price of chaos.

He deliberately tucked himself away from reality in a shady club, not because he enjoyed it, but because he felt he belonged among a crowd of deviants — each one a little more broken than the other.

He swiped his phone screen and read over his recent text messages again — at least one person kept him in her thoughts... Stevie had reached out earlier that evening about hanging out, as far as he understood. The place was hardly her scene, but that had little importance given how flexible she could be. Surely, she wouldn't mind brightening his night — probably after a short lecture on ghosting. Amusingly enough, he'd learned more about ghosting in the last few weeks of icy silence from his brother than he ever had in a lifetime. No matter how hard he tried to smolder his guilt, he simply couldn't numb himself enough to forget — cheap liquor offered little to no mercy. Channeling it all into another person was the only outlet that seemed to temporarily work — which sounded all too familiar. A vicious cycle repeating itself — one he grew to accept.

He had planned on letting a stranger serve as a catalyst to his guilt tonight — if Stevie hadn't insisted on meeting. But if anyone could withstand his somber presence, at the moment, it would probably be her. 

As expected, she soon stepped into the club, casually scanning the space for him. She wasn't his typical gregarious girl. Instead, she was level-headed, humble, yet unafraid to speak her mind. Most importantly, she was blond, petite, and as attractive as they came — just his type.

He waved, calling out over the music. Stevie's presence had always been calming — almost nurturing to him — which he needed tonight more than he cared to admit. Her smile subtly lightened the mood — he was actually pleased to see her. 

“Very classy place, Bray.” She joked, eyeing the dancer sliding along the pole, as she approached. He hated that nickname, but it was fair to say she earned it. She slid into the booth next to him. 

Braydon smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around her. "Hey, you insisted on seeing me. I only told you where to find me."  

"Glad you approve, though," he winked teasingly, "it's been a while." 

He stared into her hazel eyes before leaning in for a kiss.

She turned her head slightly, so his lips landed on her cheek instead.

“Then let’s not pretend like it hasn’t,” she said playfully — though she clearly meant it.

“You've been dodging me, or just busy being Braydon?” She pulled back slightly meeting his gaze.

She made a fair point. It had been almost two months since they last saw each other. They hadn't exchanged a single text until tonight, and that may or may not have been his fault. She always handled his lack of emotional availability with light humor, which was one of the things he appreciated about her. 

He wasn't necessarily proud of it, in fact, he was aware that Stevie always had a thing for him. But the terms of their 'friendship' were clear — at least to him. 

He gave her his signature smirk and kissed her on the cheek again, this time intentionally.

"Or maybe, just maybe, you already replaced me," he teased.

Stevie leaned back with a dry smile, arms crossing loosely.

“If I had, do you think I’d be here? Face it — you’re not that easy to shake.”

He chuckled, amused by her typical blunt honesty. 

"Flattery. Careful, that could get to my head."

She rolled her eyes then nudged his side playfully.

"God, you're such an annoying brat!"

A small, mischievous smile played on his lips before his gaze dropped across her face and neckline. The familiarity and intensity of that look briefly stripped her bare of her composure and exposed her most private thoughts. Her heartbeat began to sync with the music pulsing off the walls as she lost herself into the endless possibilities of the night ahead. She had a glimpse of how this reunion could end — the same way it always did.

She swallowed and pulled back, breaking his spell. 

"Bray...I'm not here for that." 

Her voice quieter, she looked away — despite still feeling his firm grip on her mind.

"I'm here because we need to talk."

She watched as he instantly shifted his demeanor from charming to distant.

She knew she hit a nerve. The word 'talk' always had that effect on him. 

He took a shot of tequila that had been sitting on the table — quick, dry, effortless. 

She could tell he wasn't celebrating anything by being at this gritty club — he was deflecting something deep. Braydon being Braydon, he would never open up about it either, let alone volunteer for any serious 'talk'.

With the liquor still burning its way down, he cleared his throat lightly before meeting her eyes again.

He sighed, visibly bothered — cornered by the statement.

"Stevie, I already told you..." — he took another shot — "I don’t do the boyfriend thing." 

She nodded slowly but did not flinch at the brutal reminder. 

“I know. You’ve said it enough times.” She took a beat as the truth sunk in — yet again.

“I’m not here to change your mind. I just… need you to hear something. Then I’ll go, if that’s what you want.”

"Shit, I'm sorry," he immediately muttered, a hint of concern in his voice,

"I didn't mean to sound like a dick. It's been an 'interesting' couple of days..."

“I figured." She paused, looking around at the raw surroundings. "You only end up in places like this when you’re trying to drown something."

She came to know him well over the years. He considered Stevie a friend who could see past his bravado, and knew exactly what he was — yet still chose to stick around. He obviously didn't confide everything in her because the whole truth would probably shatter her. Some truths were best left unsaid. He didn't keep her at arm's length to be cruel, it was for her own good.

She had always been there for him, many times unknowingly, even if purely physically. In return, he shared a piece of himself with her. For a few hours every few weeks, he was completely hers — no prerequisites, no epilogues, and no judgments. Those were the terms of their unspoken agreement.

He gave her a side eye, briefly acknowledging her insightful comment, before reaching for one more shot.

She tapped her fingers lightly on the table after a short pause.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Braydon," her voice was steady as she searched for his face,

"I came because I’m pregnant.”

A short beat.

Against all expectations, Braydon coughed out a laugh almost spilling his liquor in his lap.

"See, I knew you replaced me," he smirked taking his last shot before setting the glass face-down with a loud clink. "So who's the lucky guy?" He joked casually.

Stevie didn't react to his defensive antics.

“Don’t be an asshole, Braydon. It’s yours.”

Her voice was calm but cutting.

“I haven’t been with anyone else.”

He struggled to keep a laugh in. The kind of dry sarcastic laugh meant as a cover for something deeper. A single name flared into his mind — Alondra. It was enough to sober anyone named 'Braydon' up, and to make a satire of anything meaningful.

"Fucking great. Things couldn't get any better." 

His fight or flight instinct kicked in. He quickly pulled himself up and out of the booth. His voice tightened as his mind spiraled further into the root of his outburst — Alondra.

"So what? You show up here to tell me how much you don't want to keep it, is that it?!" He bitterly flipped his jacket over his shoulders, "You don't need my opinion for that."

He barely looked at her, but knew she had already jumped off her seat.  

"Good seeing you too, Stevie." He stormed away without hesitation.

“You...!" She growled and immediately stepped after him, "don’t walk away from this, Braydon!”

She chased him down across the club, more determined than scared. She figured he wouldn't take the news lightly, but that was a Braydon she didn't know — and didn't care to reason with, not when so much was at stake. She didn't plan on letting things hang in the air when her pregnancy was approaching the point of no return. Her voice rose as if enough to make him stop.

“I didn’t come here to guilt you! I didn’t come here to dump it on you either!" 

She pushed the double doors of the club open, stepping into the sketchy parking lot after him — desperate.

She had no idea why he had been sulking; she only assumed it was serious. She didn't know where he'd been in the past two months, or who he'd been with. She never asked questions she didn't want answers to. She wasn't even sure he cared about her past 5 AM. All she knew was that she would never see him again if she let him walk away. And so she held onto hope like the last flicker of a crooked parking lot light, weathered by tears and heartbreak — yet resilient in nature. 

“I don’t even know if I’m keeping it. But I’m not going to make that call while you’re storming off like some coward!”

The words echoed louder than his fundamental truth. 

Stevie paused, letting them land.

She swallowed hard, heart pounding. She watched him step back from his car.

“You always said you didn’t want a relationship. Fine. But this — this isn’t just about you anymore.”

"Fuck!" He lashed out angrily slamming the car door shut before forcefully bashing into the vehicle with both arms. He remained still—back turned, head down—paralyzed.

Not by the weight of responsibility, but by the anticipation of grief. He couldn’t go through it all again. 'I don’t know if I’m keeping it' — he's heard those words before, more than once, and it always ended the same way. Alondra chose herself twice. He wanted to believe he held no resentment toward her, since they were both young and more reckless than ever at the time. She was everything he couldn't say out loud — the ghost of his past that inflicted the most damage before he ever started inflicting it upon himself. What she had done evoked a sadness so deep that it poured out in the most unexpected ways.

Stevie was right: he was a coward. Walking away was easier than possibly reliving the darkest moment of his life for the third time. Things would have been easier if she hadn't bothered telling him anything at all.

He felt her slowly move toward him, her warm presence just a few feet away.

“Bray...” God, he hated being called that, but something about it steadied his heart. She gently placed her hand on his arm. Her voice was softer as the fire inside her faded.

“I still don’t know if I can do this. But I sure as hell know I don’t want to do it without you.”

She tugged at his arm, silently encouraging him to face her.

He exhaled sharply, letting steam out as he processed the words. He turned around and slightly leaned against the vehicle. His gaze narrowed. His body was still stiff, as if bracing himself. 

"Don't toy with me, Stevie." He said, guarded. His voice was deep and steadier than it had ever been.

He meant it. 

"If you have no intentions of keeping it... then don't give me false hope."

She looked him straight in the eyes as the next few words came out of her mouth.

"I’m not playing games." She stepped closer, scanning his face.

“This is about facing whatever comes next together — or not. I just won't pretend I’m fine on my own.”

He briefly blinked to her belly. She wasn't showing yet, but it held the promise of something he'd always begged for. A faint grin in the corner of his lips betrayed his defensiveness.

Stevie caught onto it. She intuitively reached out and lightly rested her hand over his on her belly.

"This is about what we do now. No promises, no pressure—just honesty. Can you handle that?”

Braydon flinched at her gesture at first, but his hand eventually leaned into the invitation. His mind settled as he curled his thumb over her belly. His touch was gentle — already protective. He took a deep breath attempting to recenter himself. 

"Honesty huh..?" He said, voice still deep.

He met her eyes, "I want nothing more than to meet this baby, that's my truth." 

He paused. "What's yours?"

Surprised, her breath caught quietly. She barely recognized the man in front of her. His gaze was different, not merely a charming spell this time. It was deep and vulnerable. She came prepared for the worst case scenario. Never in a million years did she think Braydon would ever want to be a father. It surprised her. She clearly didn't know him as much as she thought she did. She looked down at his hand, then back up. Her voice steadied.

“My truth? I’m terrified. But… I want to try. Not just for me or the baby — but for you too. Maybe it’s crazy, but I still care, Braydon. More than I’m willing to admit out loud.”

She swallowed, then added quietly,

“Whether we end up as friends or something more, I want to do right by this.”

A glint of excitement spread across his face.

"So...you 'did' actually mean to ask me to be your boyfriend?!" He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not my boyfriend," she smiled lightly, "just... my co-parent..."

She nudged him playfully.

"But hey, if you want to throw in some boyfriend perks, I’m not exactly opposed!"

They both laughed it off, taking the edge off and meeting each other halfway in a place of understanding. Their smiles quickly faded as they briefly recognized each other under a whole new light. 

He tenderly brushed her cheek and lingered in her gaze. No glimmer, no mask. He leaned in, instinctively drawn to her like iron to a magnet. His breath just above hers. The moment felt right.

Yet he stopped himself before their lips could meet.

A child on the way changed everything. They weren't just some hook-up anymore, they certainly could not be platonic friends, nor were they a couple. Intimacy without labels, now came at the cost of ambiguity. He realized he could not fall into the same patterns he had for years. She wasn't just 'Stevie' anymore, she was the mother of his unborn child. He owed her that much for allowing him to have a shot at something real, something meaningful in his life.

He cleared his throat, then pulled back quietly.

"I think I need to earn that now."

She gave him a soft smile.

"Earning it sounds fair. Guess I’ll hold you to that. 

But don’t keep me waiting too long, Bray," she teased.

"Just tell me what you need, I'll be there every step of the way."

She gave him a small, genuine smile.

"Just... don’t disappear. That’s all I want right now."

She squeezed his hand gently, "I need someone who stays for this..."

He nodded before pulling her into an embrace. He held her tightly. 

"I may be a shitty friend, an even shittier partner but I gotchu." 

Resting her head onto him, she laughed lightly against his chest.

"Well… lucky for you, I’m not looking for perfect. Just real."

She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, teasing.

"And maybe someone who remembers to text back once in a while?"

He scoffed at her wit.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don't worry."

He paused, stealing a quick glance at her lips. Something about the moment felt lucidly right. He never imagined Stevie could be so mature and patient — it surprised him, 'moved' him even. She would make an amazing mother to their child. That realization made her even more attractive than she already was. He had never wanted to kiss anyone so badly… but still chose to ignore the instinct.

She raised an eyebrow, catching the hesitation in his eyes, amused.

“Look at you, all grown up and self-controlled. I’m impressed.”

"Fuck it." 

He muttered as he finally gave in to the urge, pulling her closer. He slowly and deliberately melted into her lips, in a way he hadn't before, with anyone. Sweet, gentle and intentional.

“…You really suck at restraint,” she whispered jokingly against his mouth.

Eyes still closed, they embraced the possibility of a new beginning full of hope — for all three of them.

Their reunion may or may not have ended the same way it always did, but that night marked a time of firsts for the both of them. For the very first time, Stevie did not wake up alone the following morning.

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