The scent of cinnamon and apples filled the air, wrapping the kitchen in warmth. A soft hum of conversation flowed from the living room, accompanied by the occasional giggle of a child. Ruby tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, absently watching her niece wobble across the hardwood floor, her tiny hands gripping a stuffed bunny.
~ Isla: "Auntie Wuby, watch!" Isla, barely over a year old, toddled toward her, determined and unsteady.
The green-eyed woman grinned, sitting cross-legged on the floor, arms outstretched.
~ Ruby: "I'm watching, little bean. Come here!"
The toddler beamed, stumbling the last few steps before collapsing into her aunt's arms with a delighted squeal.
~ Ruby: "You did it!" she cheered, scooping the little girl up and twirling her in a circle, earning another burst of laughter. Isla's chubby fingers tangled in loose curls, tugging lightly as she babbled in excitement.
For a moment, everything else melted away: the weight of unread emails, the crushing silence of job applications left unanswered, the looming threat of eviction. Here, in the warmth of her sister's home, it didn't exist. Just soft baby giggles, the glow of afternoon sunlight through the windows, and the scent of home-cooked meals filling the space.
But reality had a way of creeping back in.
~ Natalie: "Alright, ladies, lunch is ready." she called from the kitchen.
With Isla still latched onto her hip, the Ruby made her way to the table, setting the child into her high chair before settling into a seat across from her sister.
The older woman poured tea into two mugs, her expression unreadable but knowing.
~ Natalie: "You've been quiet today. " she observed, sliding a steaming cup toward her sibling.
The younger woman hesitated, fingers curling around the ceramic.
~ Ruby: "Just tired, I guess."
Her sister didn't look convinced, but she didn't push, not yet. They ate in comfortable silence, Isla making happy little noises as she mashed soft carrots between her fingers. The warmth of home surrounded them, making it easier, just for a little while, to pretend everything wasn't unraveling.
But it didn't last.
Halfway through the meal, the red-haired woman found herself staring down at her plate, appetite fading. Her throat tightened, the weight in her chest growing heavier by the second. She tried to push it down, to swallow the frustration, the shame, but it clawed its way up anyway.
Natalie noticed. She always did.
~ Natalie: "Talk to me." the brunette said gently, setting her fork down.
Ruby hesitated, pressing her lips together. Then, like a dam breaking, the words tumbled out.
~ Ruby: "I can't find a job, Nat. I've been looking everywhere, applying for anything, and all I get is silence or rejections. My savings are gone, I can't pay next month's rent, and I have no idea what I'm going to do."
Her voice cracked at the end, and she hated it. She hated how raw and vulnerable she sounded.
Her sister's expression softened, worry etching into her features.
~ Natalie: "Oh, Ruby…"
Ruby blinked rapidly, willing the stinging behind her eyes to disappear.
~ Ruby: "I thought I could do this. I thought I could figure it out, that something would come through. But I was wrong. I screwed everything up."
A chair scraped softly against the floor. A second later, warm arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a firm embrace. The dam broke completely. She buried her face in her sister's shoulder, her breath coming in shaky gasps as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Natalie didn't say anything at first. She simply held her, the way she used to when they were younger and the redhead had scraped her knee or gotten her heart broken over something small but devastating.
~ Natalie: "You didn't screw everything up." her sister murmured, running a hand soothingly over soft waves. "You took a risk, Rubes. You wanted something better for yourself. That's not failure. That's bravery."
~ Ruby: "Tell that to my landlord." the young woman let out a bitter laugh against her shoulder.
The older sister pulled back slightly, brushing damp strands away from tear-streaked cheeks.
~ Natalie: "You're not alone in this, okay? I'm not going to let you lose your home."
The younger woman frowned, guilt creeping into her expression.
~ Ruby: "Nat..."
~ Natalie: "I'll cover your rent this month.
No arguments." the brunette cut in, firm but gentle.
Ruby's emerald eyes widened, panic flickering behind them.
~ Ruby: "I can't let you do that. You have Isla, you have your own responsibilities."
~ Natalie: "And I have a stable job and a husband who earns enough that we're not struggling." she countered smoothly. "You are my family. I'm not about to sit back and watch you drown just because you're too stubborn to accept help."
~ Ruby: "I'll pay you back the second I get a job, I swear" she promised." she swallowed hard, guilt and gratitude battling inside her.
~ Natalie: "I know you will. But until then, let me do this for you. Just until you get back on your feet." she smiled softly
A long silence stretched between them before the redhead finally nodded, exhaustion outweighing her pride.
~ Ruby: "Okay."
Natalie squeezed her hand before sitting back down.
~ Natalie: "You're going to figure this out. I know you will. But in the meantime, you're not alone. You never have been."
The weight in her chest didn't disappear, but it felt a little lighter. The knot in her stomach loosened just enough for her to breathe again.
A tiny voice suddenly broke the moment.
~ Isla:"Auntie Wuby sad?"
Both women turned to see Isla staring at them, chubby hands gripping the edge of the table. Her big, round eyes were filled with concern, her little mouth twisted in an exaggerated pout.
Ruby blinked, then let out a small, watery laugh.
~ Ruby: "No, baby. Auntie Wuby is okay."
The toddler wasn't convinced. Her tiny hands reached out, demanding to be held, and the redhead scooped her up without hesitation, pressing a kiss to the soft curls on her niece's head.
~ Ruby: "See? All good."
Isla's frown remained for a second longer before she broke into a toothy grin.
~ Isla: "Hug!" she announced, wrapping her tiny arms around her aunt's neck in a sticky embrace.
The warmth of it settled deep in the young woman's chest. Maybe she hadn't figured everything out yet. Maybe she was still lost, still scared, still searching.
But she wasn't alone.
And for now, that was enough.
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
🛳️ 🛳️
🛥️ 🛥️
⛴️ 𝑵𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒓 ⛴️
🚢 🚢
⛴️ ⛴️
🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️🌬️
Dinner stretched into the evening, the warmth of the meal and the comfort of family settling into the young woman's bones. After the dishes were cleared and Isla had been tucked into bed, Ruby found herself lingering at the dining table, cradling a second cup of tea. Natalie sat across from her, feet tucked beneath her on the chair, the flickering glow of a candle casting soft shadows across the room.
The tension that had wound tightly inside her for months had loosened just a little. Her sister's unwavering support, the promise of help, had chipped away at the fear that had gripped her so tightly. It didn't fix everything, her problems were still there, still heavy but it no longer felt like they were going to swallow her whole.
Natalie had always had that effect on her, an ability to ground her without dismissing her feelings. She was practical, sometimes blunt, but never unkind. She had scolded her before, called out her reckless decisions, but there was never judgment behind it. Just concern. Just a determination to help, to guide her back to solid ground.
As the green-eyed woman sat there, watching her sister's calm, steady expression, a familiar sense of admiration crept in. It was a feeling she had carried since childhood, since she was a little girl chasing after Natalie, trying to keep up with her older sister's confidence and certainty.
The older woman had always known who she was and what she wanted. She had been the top student in every class, the one whose report cards were decorated with praise: exceptional effort, diligent, focused. Her path through school had been smooth, unmarked by rebellion or mistakes. College had been the same, she had chosen a field she loved, graduated on time, and stepped seamlessly into a career that fit her as if it had been waiting for her all along.
Then came Jake, steady, dependable Jake, who adored her sister with the kind of love that movies tried to imitate. They had built a home together, a stable, quiet life, complete with Isla's infectious giggles and the scent of freshly brewed coffee on weekend mornings. A husband who adored her, a child who lit up the room, a career that gave her purpose, the brunette had built a life that felt solid and secure.
And through it all, she had never lost herself. She didn't become just a wife or just a mother. She was still strikingly beautiful, still effortlessly sexy in a way that made Ruby a little envious. Her sister could wear a fitted dress and heels as easily as she could rock leggings and a sweater, her confidence as natural as breathing. She didn't use motherhood as an excuse to let herself fade. She remained vibrant, bold, unapologetically herself.
Sitting across from her, Ruby wondered how someone could have everything so perfectly together. Natalie had navigated every phase of her life with grace, while Ruby felt like she had stumbled through her twenties, tripping over every decision, caught between fear and indecision.
Her sister's voice broke through her thoughts.
~ Natalie: "You're really going to be okay, you know. It feels impossible now, but you'll get through this. You always do." she said gently, a small, reassuring smile touching her lips.
The young woman managed a small, tired smile.
~ Ruby: "I wish I had your certainty."
Natalie tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes.
~ Natalie: "Certainty is overrated. I just fake it well."
Ruby laughed softly, but the thought lingered. She had always idolized her sister, always seen her as the example of what a person should be. Someone steady, capable, confident. Someone who had never been reckless enough to throw away a steady paycheck without a plan.
~ Ruby: "I just… I wish I knew what I was supposed to do. It feels like everyone else has it figured out but me." she admitted quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug.
Natalie leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, her gaze warm but steady.
~ Nalatie: "Ruby, no one has it all figured out. Not really. We just get better at pretending as we get older."
The younger woman's eyes met hers, a flicker of vulnerability passing between them.
~ Ruby: "But you..."
~ Natalie: "I've made mistakes too.: she interrupted her softly. "You just don't see them because I don't let them define me. And you shouldn't let yours define you, either."
For a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the refrigerator, the distant creak of the house settling. Ruby's heart ached, but it ached less. The weight wasn't as unbearable as it had been before.
Natalie's support had always been there, unwavering and unconditional. She had been there during every broken relationship, every failed attempt, every reckless mistake. She had scolded her, shaken her head at her impulsiveness, but she had never looked down on her. She had never made her feel like she was less.
She felt the tears rise again, but this time they didn't burn. They didn't feel like a failure. They just felt like release.
~ Ruby: "Thanks...For everything."
she whispered, her voice rough.
~ Natalie: "That's what sisters are for." she smiled, that familiar, grounding smile
As the night wore on and the candle burned lower, Ruby felt a quiet sense of hope, a small, fragile ember that had been smothered by fear and doubt. Maybe her path wasn't clear, maybe her decisions had been reckless, but she wasn't alone. There was still a way forward, even if she couldn't see it yet.
When she finally left, stepping out into the cool night air, Ruby felt lighter. The city was quiet, streetlights blinking steadily against the dark, and for the first time in weeks, the weight of the unknown didn't feel quite so crushing.
Maybe she didn't have it all figured out. Maybe she had no idea what she was doing. But if someone as capable and steady as Natalie believed in her, maybe, just maybe, she could start believing in herself too.