The Love of Lies

'Ruthie'

Cori's POV

My baby shower is around the corner, and after that is Ashton’s birthday, but we don’t have plans.

He told me that he’s never celebrated it the way Troy and Julia celebrate their births, but he was open to going out with some friends if I were well enough to go with him.

I didn't need him to add that clause since he and I both know that lately, my days have been a mix of good and bad that's unpredictable.

Just the night before, I spent fifteen minutes crying in bed because the twins were moving so much that it hurt, and all Ashton could do was give me a leg massage to try and offset the amount of pain I was in.

It worked to an extent, but the twins didn't really stop kicking until well after midnight, leaving me exhausted in the morning.

Typically, I wake up, make breakfast, and I send Ashton off, but this day was an oatmeal day; not that my boyfriend had any complaints.

According to him, it was the best oatmeal he ever had, but I think he was just trying to say anything to put a smile on my face. However, even I can admit that my oatmeal is pretty good, especially since it was one of the first things I learned to make for my mother.

I’m skilled at chopping strawberries and blueberries up so finely that they blend in with the oats, and it gives a tanginess and sweetness to the cinnamon that I typically add to the mixture. I don't put much sugar in mine because of the natural sweetness of the berries and my health, but because Ashton doesn’t have a sweet tooth like me, I was able to spice his oatmeal up with a slice of butter and half a teaspoon of brown sugar.

Alongside his black coffee, the combination must have been like a mouthful of flavors that I really, really wish I could have tasted, but at this stage of pregnancy, caffeine is definitely a no-go for me.

In fact, I think it was the soda I drank earlier that day that gave the twins an extra boost of the energy they needed to torment me, and I am not interested in a repeat event.

Right now, Ashton and I are supposed to be watching a movie, at least we plan to watch one together, but his phone rang, and he gets really excited about whatever the person on the other line is saying.

After hanging up, the man turns to look at me with an expression so hopeful that I know he's planning on ‘asking’ me if it’s okay for him to cancel our night.

“Why? Who was that?” I question, trying not to seem accusatory because I don't think Ashton is bored enough in our relationship to cheat just yet. However, it’s in the back of my mind quite often, especially now that I'm as big as I am.

“It was Mark,” Ashton replies. “Our friend Ruthie is back in town, and they're having a welcoming party tonight.”

“And you want to go?” I conclude, looking at the man who was smiling so brightly on the phone that it makes me wonder who Ruthie is.

I don't want to assume it's a woman, but soon enough I get my answer.

“She went to the same high school as us, but we went to different universities. Ruthie plays professional soccer overseas, so she's rarely in the country, and I haven't seen her in almost a year.” I can believe that, so I tell Ashton to have fun, pick up the remote, and start browsing for something to watch alone. “Do you want to come?” He questions with a raised brow, but I can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking or if I’m getting an invitation of courtesy.

“Not really,” I reply. “I don't want to take the chance that I'd ruin your night, and you seem pretty excited about it.”

Instead of Ashton asking me to come again, he goes on a rant about how funny Ruthie is, how I have to meet her, and basically just selling the woman as the best person he's ever met in the entire world.

I don't know if he's meaning to be a jerk with his words, but the more he talks, the more annoyed I become, and suddenly, I don't like Ruthie despite having never met the woman.

“Okay, have fun,” I say again, interrupting the man mid-sentence.

“So, you aren’t coming?” he asks, already back and forth in his closet to find something to wear.

This is not the first time Ashton has gone out with friends, but this is the first time I've seen him go into his closet, pick something, come out, look at himself in the mirror, and change his mind several times while preparing to go out on a casual outing.

It makes me feel like he's trying to look his best, and while I don't mind him looking good, it does bother me that he's trying to do it for another woman.

Still, I say nothing, and Ashton eventually realizes that he hasn't gotten a response to the question he asked.

“Babe, you're really not coming with me?” I don't want to lie to Ashton, but I really don't like how I feel right now.

Putting myself in situations where I might feel insecure is something that I avoid with intention, so no, I do not want to go.

I don't think that Ashton is meaning to make me feel the way I do, but I would be lying if I said I was happy about it right now, so I try to aim for a neutral ground, telling him why I’d rather stay home.

“Ashton, I really don't want you to drag me out to an event where you're celebrating the homecoming of an ex-girlfriend or ex-lover. At this stage in my pregnancy, I really rather not deal with unnecessary drama if that's okay with you."

“Ruthie?” Ashton questions in a high-pitched tone. “She's not an ex anything. Cori, just come with me and get to know her. You'll see that she's really just the coolest person ever.” Okay… She’s now ‘the coolest person ever.’

I'm going to go ahead and pretend that Ashton did not just say that to me, the woman who's carrying two babies for him. To me, I’m the ‘coolest person ever’ because, not only have I managed to look past the fact that the man practically kidnapped me, but I've also forgiven him for being a jerk, and that, in my opinion, quantifies, qualifies, and signifies that I am, by far, the coolest person ever, but now I’m curious.

“Fine. What should I wear?” I don’t know if this is a casual event, a dressy event, or something in between, and being that Ashton hasn't chosen anything, I’m assuming that I should dress up.

“You look good in anything you wear.” The man presses a quick kiss to my cheek, heading back into his closet to find what I can only assume is the perfect outfit.

I, however, don’t plan to wear just ‘anything,’ right now, so after taking a shower, I pull out a dress that I once thought was way too sexy for a pregnant person.

Mrs. Meredith told me that it may come in handy one day, and I really feel like that moment has arrived.

Ashton loves when I wear light colors, so most of the clothing he’s bought me is pastel or light, but this dress is jet black, and if it still fits, it’ll hug every curve I have left like a glove.

In addition, I have expensive make-up now, and while I don’t think that my skin really needs foundation, I have discovered that a little face powder evens my skin tone out, and since I don’t know what ‘Ruthie’ looks like, I’m going to put some on.

I finish with my hair in make-up at the same time that Ashton finished getting dressed, and as I slip into my dress, the man finally notices me.

He’s been so preoccupied with looking ‘perfect’ that he didn’t realize how dressed up I was getting, but I’m only matching his energy right now.

“Isn’t that dress too much?”

“Is it?” I dumbly question, absolutely aware that it is too much.

My breasts aren’t B cups anymore, and the off-shoulder design of the dress also cups my chest, not exactly something I like, but I’m not taking it off.

“And…” Ashton drags out the word, which holds my attention as I wait for him to continue his statement. “You think that’s okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I flash the man a sweet smile and wobble over to where my heels are.

They strap up my calves, so I have to ask him to help me with them, but I don’t think he’s quite over the fact that I’m wearing a dress that shows off so much of my cleavage, because he clearly doesn’t want to put the shoes on for me.

Eventually, the man kneels and begins to strap up the shoes, but I can tell by the way he’s taking his time that he isn’t happy about it.

“Can you even walk in those?” He suddenly asks, looking up at me with a slight scowl.

“Yup!” Actually, I have no idea if I can walk in the heels I chose, but I know I’m going to try.

The rest of the getting ready process is silent, but once we get on the road, Ashton keeps looking over at me while he drives.

“Are you feeling okay?” He probably senses that my mood is off, but…

“I’m fine, but you never told me where we were going.” That seems to remind Ashton of something, and his mood goes back to being cheerful.

“We’re headed to Ruthie’s favorite bar. It’s in the uptown area, so it’s a bit of a far drive. Why? Do you want to turn back?”

“No, I’m okay, but will you be drinking?”

“I may have a drink or two.” Ashton is lying.

Anytime he says that, he means that he doesn’t plan to get drunk, but that’s all.

“Okay. No problem.” Again, we fall into silence, but the man’s phone rings, and based on the car’s display, it’s Mark.

“Where are you?” The man exasperatedly questions.

“I’m on my way. I had to wait for Cori.” My eyes narrow, but I stay quiet because I don’t want to argue while Ashton is driving.

He was not waiting for me. I was ready at the same time as him, in fact, we walked out of the room together. What took so long was his constant changing, but I guess that he forgot about that.

“We’ll be there in the next half hour.”

“Cool… but hurry up. She’s on her way.” The men end the call, and Ashton turns to me, saying that Ruthie doesn’t know about the celebration, so it’s somewhat of a surprise party, but all I can respond with is…

“Is that her real name? Ruthie?”

“No. Her real name is Ruth.” I nod, wondering if anyone else refers to Ruth as Ruthie, but it’s hard to make a determination because Mark didn’t use the woman’s name when he called. “Why?”

“Ashton… I really hope that you and ‘Ruthie’ are just friends.”

“Why did you say her name like that?” That’s what Ashton picked up on; the fact that I said Ruth’s ‘name’ with a tone.

“Never mind,” I reply, pulling out my phone to take a few selfies.

I don’t have many pictures of my mother while she was young, and the closer I get to giving birth, the more I feel like I need to stockpile images.

“You look good,” Ashton says, looking over at my phone to see what I’m going to do, and embracing my petty, I post one.