i-probably-will-hesitate

[i-probably-will-hesitate]

Chapter 4 -

Did You Think I'd Give Up?

12th June 2015

“Excuse me?”

Ruth looked up from where she had been crying in her hands and took in the sight of a blurry figure of a man walking towards her, she wiped her nose, “Yes?” Her tone was defensive.

He chuckled slightly, “I can’t help but notice that you’re crying,”

She stared at him unimpressed, “Do they hand out prizes for stating the obvious?”

The smile remained on his face, “Well, i wouldn’t usually say anything, but I think you might be my next interview,”

Ruth felt the blood leave her body as she realised where she was standing, and who she was talking to. “Oh my god,” She started, “I’m so sorry, I just got kicked out of my apartment, and my boyfriend is a dick and… and…”

He held his hand up, the amusement still dancing on his face, “It’s ok,”

She breathed a sigh of relief as he moved to the side, so that she could take in the sight of the rundown restaurant she had applied to,

“Why don’t you come in,” The man offered, “You can meet the family while you’re at it,”

She nodded and moved forward when she suddenly stopped and turned towards him, “Im Ruth Green,” Her hand out to shake his.

He took it, his grasp firm and warm, “I’m Michael Berzatto,”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

18th December 2015

It’s late and the knot in Ruth’s back tells her that she should have gone home hours ago, but Michael had locked himself in the office two hours ago and she hadn’t had the heart to leave him alone.

Richie had offered to stay and she had almost taken up on that offer, but the appearance of his wife had caused him to forget all about his promise to stay and so she had settled in for however long it took for him to appear.

The cup of coffee she’d made had gone cold, her hands raw from the chill.

The door opening pulled her from her thoughts as she took in Michaels dishevelled state, “What are you doing here so late?” He asked, his voice rough from disuse.

She smiled slightly at him, “Waiting for you,”

He smirked, “Were you worried about me?”

She rolled her eyes, “How am I going to get paid if you’re not here?”

He nodded his head,

“Mikey what’s wrong?”

He jerked his head behind him in the direction of the office, getting the idea, she stood to follow him into the office, closing the door behind her to preserve the heat.

“So?” She asked.

“I’m looking for some paperwork…”

“Oh, and you can’t find it in this organised filing system?” She teased, staring at the office that was floor to ceiling mess.

He nudged her shoulder, “Don’t mock me, I’m in distress,”

She stared up at him, smiling, “Clearly,”

They stood in the office shoulder to shoulder in silence, Ruth hadn’t noticed this before, but it seemed like the temperature was rising the longer they stood next to each other. The fingers brushed against each other, and for a second the world stood still.

And then he kissed her.

It was heavy and messy, but in Ruth’s mind it was perfect, as the kiss deepened he pushed her up against the desk. She would have been embarrassed at the noise that escaped if she hadn’t been so distracted by Mikey’s hand that was slowly travelling south.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

13th September 2020

The apartment was silent, as Ruth walked through the door, her bones were heavy and her head was pounding.

“You came back?” Mikey said standing at the edge of the hallway.

Ruth stared at him dumbfounded by what he had just said, “Of course I came back” tears began to gather, “Mikey, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean any of what I said,”

He shook his head as he stepped closer, “I should be the one saying sorry, I was so stupid,” He smiled at her, “I love you,”

She smiled back at him, “I love you too,”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

15th March 2022

Ruth’s eyes snapped open as the chill of the air shocked her awake. She gasped as he realised where she was, hands reaching back to cling to the bridge she was currently hanging off the side of.

She stared out in the dark, confusion taking hold of her, as she took in what was happening.

“Ruth, come back from the edge,” She shook her head as she refused to turn around.

“You’re dead, stop talking to me,”

A chuckle came from behind her, she reached a shaky hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes, her tears close to turning to ice in the brutality of the cold. “Mikey,” She breathed.

She felt him walk closer to her, “Ruth come down,”

“No,” She shouted angrily, her voice becoming soft and croaky as she opened her mouth to tell the truth, “If I do this, then I’ll be back with you,”

She could almost feel him rolling his eyes at her, “What? I’m worth killing yourself over?”

“Yes!” She almost screamed, “Oh god, Mikey I don’t understand why you can’t see how important you are to me, I would go to the depths of hell if I meant I could see you, even just for a moment.”

He huffed, “I’m honoured you think I would be going to hell,”

Ruth stayed silent, her mind reeling from all that had happened, “I don’t understand, I don’t…”

“I’m sorry Ruth I know it seems cruel, but it was the only way that I could keep you safe, if you were living a different day, you weren’t here,” He took her hand.

“Please Ruth, come down,”

She shook her head again, her knees threatening to buckle under the cold of the air, “If I turn around, you’ll disappear, “ She let out a choke sob, “I thought I could save you, I thought I was saving you, but I wasn’t was I, it was you who was looking after me,”

He gripped her hand even tighter, “Ruth…” He started.

“I thought that I could change everything, that if I noticed you, maybe I could save you,”

He laughed slightly, “Ruth you always noticed me and I always, always knew how much you loved me,”

“Then why did you do it?” She begged for an answer, trembling in the anticipation of the answer.

“Ruth,” He sighed, “I’m gone, and I’m not coming back,”

She sobbed.

“I wasted my life, I got myself in debt, I took drugs, and I stayed in the same spot my whole life, “

She opened her mouth, but he kept going, “It was the privilege of my life to have married you, to have had siblings like Carmy and Natalie, but I couldn’t go on any more,” He took in a deep breath, “Ruth, I’m at peace, but if you die, that will be it all I will know is torment, please grant me last thing before I go,”

They stood in silence for a while as Ruth took in what Mikey had said, she closed her eyes as defeat hung around her neck.

“Help me down?” She asked him

He smiled, “Always,”

He reached around her waist and pulled her back down, leaving her standing in front of him, she stared up into his eyes for the last time, “You better wait for me,” She said to him her mouth turned up,

He nodded, “Of course,” He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her softly, “Goodbye Ruth Berzatto,”

“Goodbye… Michael Berzatto,”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4 Months Later

Ruth took a breath in, she imagined that this would be the last quiet moment she’d get that day,

“You ok?” Carmy asked as he walked over,

She smiled, “Yeah, just having my last calm moment of the day,”

He laughed, “Well I don’t think Richie has arrived yet so you might have a bit more time,”

She joined in with his laugh, there was a slight pause and she turned to face him fully, “We’re gonna be ok, you know?” She said to him,

He nodded his head, “I know,”

The day went on as many of the days had been going recently, which was a lot of stopping Richie killing Carmy or vice versa. But by 10 am the kitchen was in absolute chaos and Ruth was sure that if Mikey had been here, he would have been laughing his head off at the way Carmy and Richie were butting heads.

That had become easier, talking about him, referencing him, she no longer dissolved into a puddle of tears on the floor so that was progress.

A new voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Hi, hello” the voice said, obviously nervous.

“Hi,” Carmy responded, Ruth turned her body completely around to watch what was going on.

“I’m Sydney, I called about the sous position,”

And just like that, even though Sydney had only just walked through the door and she’d never actually held a conversation with her, she knew that everything was going to be ok.

[i-probably-will-hesitate]

Chapter 3 -

How Could I fear Any Hurricane?

8am

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

15 and a half hours before…

Ruth grumbles, as she is ripped harshly from her dream by the sound of the phone ringing. She fumbles for her mobile, which she left on her bedside table but frowns when she realises it’s not her phone that’s ringing.

With a curse she drags herself from her bed and shivers as she stumbles through the hallway of her apartment. Not for the first time, her annoyance with Mikey bubbles over as she realises it’s the landline that he insisted they needed is ringing.

She stops at the doorway of her room, taking in the scene in front of her, the home phone sitting proudly on the table that sat by the radiator, in rang loudly,

Louder than she had ever thought it could be.

She frowned, “That can’t be possible,” She spoke softly, Ruth moved slowly towards the phone, “That can’t be true,”

She picked the phone up and shakily raised it to her ear, “Hello?”

Ruth put the phone down, slamming it into the cradle, she turned, not willing to look back at it, as she opened the door and walked out of the apartment into the chilling air.

It’s early enough in the morning that the city hasn’t really woken up yet and so Ruth, still dressed in her pyjamas, shivering down the block didn’t draw too many stares.

She stops at the doors of the Original Beef of Chicagoland, she can hear the yelling from the kitchen all the way outside, and hovers at the entrance for what feels like hours. She reaches to open the door and is hit by the heat of the entryway.

“Hey Ruth, what are you doing here?” Richie calls from where he’s passed by the entrance of the kitchen.

She stays quiet, silently swaying, and he opens his mouth in concern.

“Hey are you ok?” He asks, his voice lowered, concern dripping from his words as he starts to walk towards her.

“You’ve still got your pyjamas on,” Richie says before turning his head behind him and shouting, “Mikey,”

She closes her eyes, a long heavy sigh leaving her body as she begins to realise what’s happening, “Richie,” Her voice is timid,

“Yeah?”

“What’s the date?”

Richie’s face drops, “It’s the 22nd of February,” He reaches his hand out, but drops it as she flinches and steps back, “Ruth what’s…” He goes to say but is interrupted by the appearance of Mikey.

“Hey honey, what are you doing he- hey what’s wrong?” Mikey starts as he takes in his wife’s appearance, moving towards her,

She crashes into him and holds him close to her, “I need a cup of coffee,”

Mikey nods, leading her to sit down in the office, before walking off to get some coffee. She wonders if it says something about her that she didn’t beg him to stay.

She shakes her head again.

Ruth turns her head to look around the office, it’s messier than she remembers, filled with shit that Mikey probably doesn’t need but is still insistent to keep, this is where Mikey had kissed her for the first time, he…

She shakes her head again, remembering the last time she had brought up that particular memory, she shivers, the heat of the kitchen not yet reaching her.

The door opens and she turns to see Mikey his way in balancing two cups of coffee as he tries to close the door.

He passes her a cup before sitting down next to her, “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

It’s a simple question but it brings tears to her eyes as she sniffles, “I don’t know Mikey,”

He reaches out and holds her hand, “I just keep having this nightmare,”

Mikey frowns, “What’s the nightmare about,”

His eyes are so big and filled with sadness, Ruth wonders if that sadness was always there, and if it was how could she have missed it?

She shrugs, urging the words to spill from her mouth but nothing comes out, “I was just scared, and I wanted to be with you.”

He smiled at her, “Well I think we can sort that out,”

She smiles back and reaches to brush the hair out of his face, when her eyes land on a small bag that has been hidden away in a pot on Mikey’s desk.

She freezes, that must have been the bag that Richie found, the first day, Ruth wonders how many secret stashes of pills her husband had hidden away, she wonders how she missed it.

A shiver ran down her spine, she moved her head away hoping that Mikey wouldn’t catch on to what she'd seen, but Ruth was too late, Mikey followed her eye line and taking in the contents of the drawer let out a heavy sigh before dropping her hand.

Ruth clenched her fists, she didn’t want to fight, not this time, she didn’t want to say the things she knew she was going to say, to her it could be unsaid, but for him, they would be some of the last words she ever said to him.

She hated herself for that, she hated that she had missed so much of his pain and his torment, that she had ignored it. The day after Micheal’s death, Ruth could barely look at herself on the mirror.

What kind of wife was she… what kind of person was she to have lived with someone and been so blind to what he was feeling what he was going through.

Why had he kept it all a secret, if not because he knew he could not trust her.

Trust to keep it a secret,

Trust her to support him,

Trust her to take the pain away,

Trust her to still love him.

As she took in her husband sat in the cramped office, a defeated look on her face, she wanted to scream and cy, she wanted to take him in her arms and hide him from the world, to stop him from feeling what he was feeling.

A voice crawled out from the back of her head, a slimy voice, one filled with hatred and self loathing, a voice that whispered in her ear that maybe it wasn’t the world that had beaten him down, but maybe it was her.

Maybe she had taken everything good about him and twisted it up until he couldn’t recognise himself without the pills.

She shook her head, she was so tired, and she was so cold, and so without even a glance at her husband she rose from her seat and walked out the door.

Mikey was silent as he watched her go, wondering if this was how he was going to lose her, and if he lost her would he really have a reason to go on.

Ruth was on autopilot as she walked home, blind to her surroundings, the world fuzzy.

She settled in bed, her feet still covered in dirt, sleep surprisingly did not evade her and as she rested her head on her pillow, she was quick to go to sleep.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11pm

Chicago,

Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

30 minutes after…

There’s a thunderous knocking at the door, and Ruth groans. She sits up and stares angrily at the wall, tears falling, she lets out a scream so pained and guttural that the knocking at the door pauses for a moment before becoming ten times more intense.

She turns her head to look at the alarm,

11:30

22nd February

It stares at her mocking and angry, she reaches over and pulls the alarm out of the wall, and throws it across the room.

The knocking continues, creating a powerful pounding in her head, she rips the duvet off of her and walks quickly towards the door.

She takes in a slow breath, and hesitates at the door, even though she knows what’s going to happen, she still hesitates. Hoping that maybe if she waits a moment that Mikey will emerge from the bathroom, an annoyed look on his face asking who’s knocking on the door so late.

The door opens, Ruth finds herself surprised she can’t remember turning her hand to open the door.

The officer standing in the doorway has taken his hat off, and with a solemn look on his face raises his hand to make sure that the door doesn’t close.

As if she’ll close the door on him.

“Mrs. Berzatto, may I come in?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 am

NYC,

Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

15 hours before…

Ruth grumbles, as she is ripped harshly from her dream by the sound of the phone ringing. She fumbles for her mobile, which she left on her bedside table but frowns when she realises it’s not her phone that’s ringing.

She quickly rises from her bed and stalks quickly over to the phone and without any hesitation throws it on the ground.

With a small glare sent the phones way, she made her way back to her room and fell back asleep.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roughly 5 Minutes Later

Ruth sat up with a start, as she rolled to her side and settled on the alarm that sat next to the bed.

8:05

22nd February

A strange sort of feeling came over her body as she took in what the alarm said. The 22nd of February, she sat up.

“It’s the 22nd of February,” She said to herself slowly and carefully,

She smiled, “Oh my god… it’s the 22nd of February,”

Her realisation stopped short as she began running around the apartment picking up her clothes while washing her teeth, and styling her hair.

Her heart was beating faster by the second as she ran out the door and down the block, a smile growing on her face as she realised the chance she had been given. How hard could it be? Just make sure that Mikey didn’t kill himself by 11pm and everything would be fine.

She stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk as she took in what she’d just realised, she needed to keep him in her eyeline for the next, she checked her watch, fourteen hours and forty five minutes and everything would be fine.

Everything would be fixed.

He wouldn’t die, and then tomorrow, she would talk to him calmly and kindly.

She let out a sigh of relief, He was going to live…

She was going to save him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The restaurant was freezing, even though Tina had insisted that the heating was on the highest temperature.

She’d already snuck into the office and picked up the small bag and stuffed it to the bottom of the neighbours trash. She’d huffed a tired breath after digging through the trash to get straight to the bottom. Never had she thought that digging through would fill her with such pride but here she was.

Mikey’s face had been beaming ever since Ruth had walked through the kitchen doors, they had worked together for the whole seven years that they had known one another, but neither of them could ever keep their smiles at bay when the other walked in.

The restaurant was never very tense, in the hours before opening, instead those who worked there decided their time was best spent sharing stories they’d heard a million times before, sprinkled with Richie occasionally shouting at somebody or something.

Ruth closed her eyes, completely at peace as she lent her full weight against her husband who had wrapped his arms around her waist. She frowned as she felt Mikey stiffen behind her. She looked up from where she was watching, laughing, at Tina who was telling the most outrageous story that Ruth had ever heard.

She followed everybody’s eyelines as she took in the man at the doorway, the man who was breathing very heavily, the man from next door,

The man, holding the bag of drugs that Ruth had stuffed in the trash.

She could still smell the lingering scent of the trash on her clothes.

“What the fuck are you doing stuffing this in my trash?”

The eyes of the restaurant moved from the man standing in the doorway to Ruth who seemed to have shrunk against her husband.

The man in the door moved closer, foaming at the mouth, finger pointing straight at her, “Are you gonna answer me you little bitch?”

Mikey shifted, moving Ruth off of him and walking towards the man, “What did you say?”

The next door neighbour’s face went bright red as he stared Mikey down, “Your wife, dumped this in my trash,”

Ruth thought she was going to die.

Mikey shook his head, the rest of the restaurant stood at the ready, almost on their tiptoes, ready to pounce at the man.

“Man, I don’t know what you think you saw but my wife did not put that in your trash,” He raised his finger to point, his face full of anger, “And don’t you dare accuse her of that again,”

Ruth moved forward, closing her eyes briefly as she dreaded what she was about to say,” Mikey,” She started but faltered when he turned and looked at her head on. The look on his face told her everything that she needed to know, and she hated it.

The confusion and pain on his face was something that she was becoming more and more accustomed to seeing, and she hated it.

Mikey stood in the middle of the kitchen, his face saying a thousand words,

But there was one question that she knew must be at the forefront of his mind, she’d obviously found the drugs, so why had she thrown them away?

Something in her eyes must have told him that that question was never going to be answered.

He walked away.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10pm

Chicago,

Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

1 Hour Before

Ruth was pacing the apartment.

Mikey hasn’t come home yet and Ruth was filled with panic, he’d usually be home by now and she didn’t know what to do. All the other times he’d come home by now, they’d agree not to talk about it, and then they would go to bed.

Ruth’s plan had been to keep them talking until midnight, meaning he would never have died on the 22nd of February, she had hoped that this would break the cycle, it seemed the universe had decided to throw her another curveball.

She looked down at her watch, watching as the seconds ticked by, she had to make a decision, she couldn’t live through this day again, and so, her hands shaking, she once again left the apartment, into the cold night air, towards Mikey.

She didn’t have to wonder where he was, after he’d died she’d visited the spot every day, Sugar had said it was unhealthy, but to her it was the only way to feel close to him once again.

The spot that Mikey had committed suicide, had been, in her mind, the only spot he had been able to find peace in a very long time, and so she had visited it every day. Ruth had partially hoped that maybe she could find the same peace he had found, barring that she had planned to jump off the State Street Bridge, although she had decided to wait until after the funeral.

She checks her watch again,

10:55

She still has time as she comes to the edge of the bride, with a deep shuddering breath she begins to walk along, knowing that Mikey had not been very far from the entrance.

She had thought about this alot, what he had looked like, what he’d been thinking, if she’d been there, would he have still done, or would he have waited? Would he have taken her home and then two days later shot himself in another part of chicago?

She shuddered at the thought.

She stops, as she sees Mikey about 2 metres in the distance, he’s not pacing like she thought he would be, he’s not frantic, he’s… calm. He’s leaning his hands over the edge as he takes in the view, Ruth can see the outline of the gun in his hand.

All of a sudden she freezes, what does she say?

How does she get her husband to not kill himself?

What if he still does it, right here in front of her?

What if he doesn’t?

Mikey turns and completely stops when he sees her standing there.

No words have to be spoken, they both know what he’s planning.

“Mikey,” She breathes softly.

He shakes his head, “Just go home Ruth, this will all be over soon,” His words are foreign and not like him and it breaks Ruth’s heart.

She tries again, “Mikey, please, tell me what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t, I can’t,”

She looks at him, “That’s ok, why don’t we go home and talk about it?” She moves closer, “I promise, I’m not angry, and i’m not judging you, I just want to come home,”

He doesn’t move,

“Please Mikey,”

He stays silent, she looks down at her watch,

10:58

There’s still time, a voice whispers in her head.

“Mikey, I have lived this day four times, in my reality you have shot yourself on this spot three times, this will be your fourth,” She takes in a breath, “In all honesty I have been so wrapped up in my own grief I have failed you three times, and I will not fail you again,”

Her voice breaks as she pleads with him, “I have known you for seven years, and I have been married for five, and I never once saw you, saw how much you were hurting, how much pain you were in, and I am sorry,”

Mikey stays silent.

“But it doesn’t have to be like this, you do not have to do this for everything to be better, we’ll look at rehab and therapy and you can be ok Michael,” Ruth looks at him her expression hopeful, as he stares at her blankly,

“Please Mikey,”

He looks at her, “Ruth, my life is a fuck up, I’m in debt, I take pills, I am a fuck up, you could do so much better, you all could,”

She shakes her head, angry, “Mikey, listen to me, we’re all fuck ups, we all have dreams that are slowly eroded by reality, but you? I have dreamed of you since I was a little girl, and I will be damned if I let you go so easily,”

She smiles at him, “You are it for me Mikey, so don’t you dare say I could do better, that any of us could, we only want you Mikey,”

Her smiles grows softer as he lowers the gun and places on the bridge at his side, looking at her, “I’m not magically fixed, I can’t promise that this is going to be easy, that I’m not going to be back here in two months,”

She took his hand in hers, “But your alive,” She smiled, “I can work with that,”

She looked at her watch,

11:02

She breathed a sigh of relief, staring up at Mikey, she went to open her mouth, when strange feeling came over her, it felt like the universe was pounding on her head and squeezing her stomach as she felt the need to throw up grow louder and louder by the second,

And then it stopped…

And she woke up.

[i-probably-will-hesitate]

Chapter 2 -

If I Could Hold You For A Minute?

8 am,

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

22nd February 2022.

15 and a half hours before.

Ruth grumbles, as she is ripped harshly from her dream by the sound of the phone ringing. She fumbles for her mobile, which she left on her bedside table but frowns when she realises it’s not her phone that’s ringing.

With a curse she drags herself from her bed and shivers as she stumbles through the hallway of her apartment. The landline has been ringing at all sorts of odd hours lately, filled with people Ruth barely knows offering up their condolences. It has made her miss Mikey more than she could have thought possible, a reminder that he is gone.

She had thought now that the funeral was over that people would stop ringing, that they would leave her alone.

Or rather she had hoped.

“Hello,” Her tone is sharp and short, sending a clear message to whoever it is at the end of the phone, that she is not pleased.

“Finally, you think keeping your mother in law waiting so long is a good idea?”

“Donna,” Ruth sighs as she leans against the wall curling her feet in slightly as the cold on the wooden floors takes root. She had been hoping that Donna wouldn’t contact her today, in truth she was hoping now that Mikey was dead that Donna would just leave her alone.

Ruth frowned, she wondered when that had happened, when she had started hoping that people would just leave her alone. Loneliness was an addiction, or maybe it was grief.

“Well?” The woman on the other end demands.

“I’m sorry Donna, what do you need?”

“Have you heard from Sugar?”

“No, is she ok?” Ruth had been worried considering how erratic the Berzatto family was that one of them was going to do something stupid, like get arrested, she hadn’t thought it would be Sugar though.

“How would I know she hasn’t called me.”

Ruth pinches the bridge of her nose, irritation rising through her, “Donna, it’s so early,”

She sighs, “I’ll give her a call and see if I can get a response.”

There’s a slight pause and Ruth decides to bite the bullet.

“How are you holding up Donna?” but the dull hum at the other end indicates that Donna has hung up the phone. Ruth doesn’t find it in herself to care, all she wants is to go back to bed, but Donna’s got her worried now and so with limbs still filled with sleep she lifted her arm again and lifting the receiver off the wall pushed in Sugar’s mobile number.

It rings maybe 5, 6 times before a tired “Hello,” comes from the other end.

Ruth lets out a sigh of relief, “Hey, you wanna tell me why your mother is calling me this early in the morning about your whereabouts?”

Sugar laughs and it takes Ruth by surprise, she doesn’t think she’s heard anybody laugh since Mikey died and her stomach begins to turn.

“I was sleeping, who wants to be up this early, unless you’re my mother,” She laughs again, “Or Mikey, when did he leave today probably before 5,”

She keeps on talking but Ruth fails to hear her, everythings gone fuzzy, as the anger begins to claw its way up Ruth’s body, who’d have thought that one day after her brother's funeral, Sugar would become so cruel.

“What did you say?” Ruth interrupts Sugar’s rambling.

“Uh, I don't know what did I say?” Sugar has gone from sounding light and carefree to having a slight tremble in her voice, she’s worried Ruth’s mind supplies.

“Is this your way of coping?” Ruth snaps, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Ruth, what… what are you talking about?” Sugar asks, the worry becoming louder in her voice.

Ruth scoffed, “You’re being mean Sugar,”

There was a pause and Ruth heard Sugar shifting up in bed, “Ruth, what’s happened, have you and Mikey argued, where did he go?”

Ruth hung up and stared at the wall for the next hour. She couldn’t understand what Sugar was doing, why she was being so cruel. She didn’t care that this was how Sugar had chosen to channel her grief.

She hated her.

The phone began to ring again and Ruth rubbed her forehead as a headache began to form.

She picked the phone up.

“You ok?”

“Carmy?”

And for a second all she can hear is his soft exhale, “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” She says softly, a quiver in her voice.

He sighs again, “Well I would if you were better at answering the phone,”

She laughs slightly, “I always pick up the phone it was always Mikey who wouldn’t pick it up,” she feels a pain growing in her chest, “Even though he insisted on getting that fucking landline,” She said with a roll of her eyes.

The guilt eating her up, her mother had always told her not to speak ill of the dead.

Carmy is silent over the phone, “Ruth…” The pause is hours long as she picks at her hand, “Sugar called me,”

Ruth shifted slightly the cold of the radiator she was leaning in, seeping past her pyjamas.

“Did she tell you what she said?” Ruth asked, anger building up.

“Whad she say?” He slurred slightly,

Her lip trembled as she struggled to breathe, “ She kept talking about Mikey and.. She … she kept saying…. And I was… I was….”

“Woah, woah, woah, Ruth what’s the problem, where’s Mikey, has he left, is he ok?” Carmy words were rushed and worried.

Rth felt her heart grow cold.

“What? Is this a sibling thing, you’re just going to torture me?”

“Ruth, what?”

“He’s dead Carmy, you know this,” The tears streaming down her cheeks, “So why the fuck are you doing this to me?” She screamed into the phone before slamming it back into the receiver.

She stared at it before ripping the entire thing off from the wall, the wires fizz as she pulls it. She drops the thing on the ground, and walks back to her bed, not before reaching up and opening the windows in her bedroom.

She hopes that she’ll die, and dying of cold seems the best way to go.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11 am

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

12 hours before

The bang of the door pulls Ruth from her sleep, sitting up she pulls the duvet up closer around her as she shivers, she barely has time to pull her face into a frown, before Sugar appears in the doorway.

“Oh my god,” Sugar sighs in relief at Ruth sitting up in bed as she moves to hug the woman, she began to cry as she speaks, “Ruth, we’ve been calling you but you weren't picking up and we called the restaurant and, oh my god,” Sugar repeated as her tears turned to sobs.

Sugar pulled Ruth into her arms, “I thought something had happened,”

Ruth brushed Sugar off as she rose from the bed, trying her hardest to ignore the cold of the room, “Something has happened…” Ruth started as Carmy walked into the room.

His hands were up, as if she was a deer caught in headlights, “Ruth you need to tell us what happened,”

Ruth shook her head hugging herself as she backed away from the siblings, “Why are you doing this to me?” She asked as her back hit the wall, she sniffed as more tears fell, “What do you want from me?” She began lightly hitting her hand, unable to handle what was happening.

“Hey, hey,” Carmy called as he rushed towards her and grabbed her hands, he began to speak softly, “We called the restaurant, Mikey is coming home,”

Ruth began to shake her head as she took in what Carmy was saying, she opened to reply, something heavy and angry when the slam of the front door stopped her. She stood completely still as Mikey came into view, face flushed and breathing heavily as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Mikey,” Ruth breathed as she slowly moved to back away, hitting the wall she was already flush against.

Mikey stepped forward but she held out a hand, releasing a deep sob as she took him in , Creamy and Sugar watching worriedly from the side their hands slightly raised in case Ruth suddenly keeled over.

“Baby, what’s wrong, you got the entire family up in arms thinking something happened,” Mikey started, by his tone he was gunning for a joke but the look on his wife's face meant that it fell flat.

He moved closer to her as she spoke,” You’re dead,”

He stopped, frowning, “I’m right here, I promise you,”

She shook her head, “You’re not real, you died,” She sniffled wiping the tears from her eyes so she could look straight at him, “You left me all alone,” She stepped towards him and pushed him, hard,

“You,”

Push,

“Left,”

Push,

“Me,”

Push,

“All,”

Push,

“Alone,”

At the end, Ruth’s voice cracked as she collapsed into her husband's arms, and he… he was real. She pushed herself closer and closer to her as if she tried hard enough they would merge and become one.

He held her, one arm around her waist while the other cradled her head, and turned to Carmy, “Will you close the window?” he asked the younger man.

WIth a nod, Carmy moved to shut the window, stopping the cold breeze that was rushing in.

Mikey turned to Sugar, “Call mom,” He asked, his voice soft and soothing as Ruth continued to cry into his chest, she nodded and left the room reaching for her mobile, soon followed by Carmy, leaving the couple alone in their room.

Mikey moved Ruth backwards slowly, still holding her tight in his arms, the back of her legs hitting the bed as he lowered her down onto the bed to sit, crouching in front of her as he took her face in his hands.

He waited until she lifted her head to wipe her nose, his face set in a stern line, “You have to talk to me baby, because i’m drawing a blank here,”

Her voice was quiet, “You’re dead Mikey,” Her head tilting to the left as the pain of her admission hit her.

He looked at her, “I’m right here,”

She lifted her hand to cover his arms that were still raised to her face, “You died, oh god Mikey and we buried you and… and,”

He moved his head closer to lean his forehead against hers, “You’ve had a nightmare,”

She shook her head.

“No, no Ruth listen to me, you’ve had a bad dream,” He kissed her, his touch feather like, “You’ve had a bad dream, but it’s over now, and you’re ok,”

Ruth revealed a small smile, her face protesting after having spent so long settling in a frown. “You promise,”

“Hey,” He lightly scolded, “Would I lie to you?”

The small smiled that appeared on her face were enough to answer that question.

“Okay, why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you a drink,” He suggested but when he stood up to make his way to their cramped kitchen, she grabbed a hold of his arms and pulled him down,

“Please don’t leave me Mikey,” she whispered her words coated in fear, he stared at, taking in the bags under her eyes and the tremble of her lips and nodded slowly. Standing up he removed his jacket and climbed into the bed next to her, taking her into his arms.

He sat back against the head board as she lay her head on his chest, the steady thumping of his heart lulling her to sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

8 hours before

Ruth woke with a start, her eyes wide as she searched the room, and her heart sank in her chest, tears gathering in her eyes as she realised her was gone,

That maybe he was never there.

She rose on shaky legs, her hands gripping her hair as she made her way to hallway, she intended to get to the phone, to call Sugar or Carmy, but stopped short as she took in the sight of the landline in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Her breathing soon becoming heavier, more urgent as she looked all around her lost on what her next move would be, her eyes darted from her bedroom door to the door of the kitchen, where she stopped as she took in the low rumbling of voices.

Ruth stepped forward and opened the door, letting out a sigh of relief as she took in the room, and rushed forward to Mikey who was sat with his siblings at the dining table.

She unceremoniously sat on his lap and she buried her face once again in his chest, she stayed like that for awhile, breathing him in, until she realised how quiet the room had become and lifted her head slowly.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” She said quietly as she took in the looks on both Carmy and sugar’s faces.

She went to open her mouth, before turning sharply towards Carmy, “Carmy, what are you doing here, I thought you’re in the city?”

He smiled slowly at her, “Well I got a phone call from my sister, and from the sounds of it either my brother,had died or left you, I figured you’d probably need me more,”

She smiled gratefully at him, before Mikey spoke up, “Hey, wouldn’t you be coming for me if i’d left her?” He asked, his voice filled with teasing fun.

Carmy shook his head, “Oh no, if you two got a divorce I would be on Ruth’s side no matter what,” He joked.

Sugar nodded, “Sorry Mikey, i don’t even think mom would be on your side,”

Ruth started laughing,”Thanks you two,”

Sugar nodded,” If you two broke up, it would for sure be Mikey’s fault, you’re a saint,”

“Ok, Ok,” Mikey interrupted, “Well we’re not getting a divorce so you two can still be on my side as well,” He said, the others laughed but Ruth looked up the smile on her face falling as she took in the strange look on her husbands face, like maybe he hadn’t found the joke as funny as everybody else had.

She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear,” Who’s in charge of the kitchen if you’re here,”

“Richie,” He answered.

Ruth rolled her eyes, “Great, it’ll be burned down by this evening,” Her statement sending another round of laughter through the table as she kissed Mikey’s cheek.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

6 hours before

Carmy and Sugar had left about twenty minutes beforehand, Sugar to go see Donna and Carmy needing to leave if he was to make it back home at a reasonable time.

The apartment was once again quiet and Ruth smiled from her seat at the table as she watched Mikey in the kitchen. It was rare that she got him to herself so early in the evening and she was planning to make the most out of it.

She let out a small sigh as she made to stand, he looked up from where he was stirring the sauce, “hey, I thought I told you to stay put?” He questioned not unkindly.

She smiled at him, “I’m only going to the toilet, is that ok officer?”

He grinned at her playful tone making his way towards her and wrapping an arm around her as he pulled her flush towards him, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He leaned into the kiss her, rough and hungry as he deepened the kiss. Ruth lost herself in the feeling of him as his free hand began to trail down, slowly.

His hand brushed past her breast, her nipples hardening as he became rougher, but leaving her wanting more as he moved his hand further down.

He reached the waistband of he leggings slowly pulling the out to make space for his hand, but she pulled back, breathless as she lifted her head up a smirk painting her lips,

“Hold that thought,” She whispered, through gulps of air, Mikey groaned as he tried to drag her back towards him, she giggled, “Mikey, I’m going to wet myself,”

He let her go, she moved towards their toilet, throwing a wink his way as she shut the door, leaving him waiting.

Their toilet was disgusting, the whole room was filled with damp, and could have used with having every facility being replaced at least twenty years ago. But they had tried to make it their own.

Mikey had painted it the shade of blue that Ruth had picked out, and then they’d both spent their day off placing tiles all around the wall.

It was in an effort to make the space brighter, more homely, more…

Ruth shook her head, her dreams of a perfect home, had ended with a leaky sink and a shower that was always just a bit too hot, but it had her and it had Mikey and so it was perfect.

Ruth smiled to herself, as she stood to wash her hands, she looked at the cracked mirror that hung over the sink. She took in her face, and bit her lip, reaching to open the mirror that double as the door to the cabinet she began to move around to see if she could find something to hold up her hair.

She paused as her hand knocked a container over, leaving it to fall and land in the sink the contents rattling.

It was a plain container small, and unsuspecting, if Ruth hadn’t been so keen to find something she most likely would never have discovered it. She opened it, her smile fell into a large frown as she took in the contents.

She’s known about Mikey’s addictions, but when she’d married him, he’d assured her that whatever he’s been using was long in the past.

He’d lied to her, a headache began to form as a strange wave of deja-vu washed over her. Her mind fuzzy as she tried to remember, but a clatter from the kitchen interrupted her thoughts, she scrambled to pick the small bottle up.

With once last glance at her reflection she took a deep breath in, and opened the door, dreading what was about to happen.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

2 hours before

Their fight had been so loud that they’d had the cops called on them. Ruth couldn’t understand why he’d lied to her, what had happened that had led him back down this path, and Mikey wouldn’t budge.

He wouldn’t talk to her, she had begged and begged but he would not budge and once the cops had left, he’d left too. Picked up his jacket and walked out into the cold air.

Ruth had spent the rest of her day in darkness.

Not literal darkness, she’d put all the lights on in the apartment to spite Mikey, he was always on about the waste of electricity… so she turned them all on.

Childish.

But the anger that was pulsing through her was almost overwhelming, and she knew that it was stupid and irresponsible but she couldn’t help being mad.

He’d told her he was better.

He’d promised.

But he wasn’t.

And so she had spent the rest of her day, scrolling through the internet looking for a rehab to send him too. Somewhere nice, where he could relax and cook , and still enjoy life.

Scrolling through the internet trying to find somewhere affordable, somewhere close, somewhere that would cure him.

She was drawing blanks.

They wouldn’t be able to afford to send him anywhere nice,

Was nice a good word to describe rehab?

Whether it was the right word to use the sentiment remained the same, nowhere was affordable and those that were, were complete and utter shitholes, not the place she wanted to send her husband.

During her search her the pounding in her head had grown stronger. She was sure she had done this before, was this not what her dream had been about?

But se shook her head, the emotions of the day were getting to her, causing her to think and feel things that couldn’t be true.

She had to stick with the facts, otherwise she was sure she was going to go mad.

She took in a deep shuddering breath in as the lock of the front door began to jingle, signalling Mikey’s return.

She squared her shoulders as she stood at the end of the hallway facing the door head on.

Everything is going to be ok.

Mikey sighs, dropping his bag at the entryway as he takes in his wife.

Evenings aren’t usually like this, usually they get home together, completely enamoured with one another.

He takes a step forward, she doesn’t move.

“Ruth,” he shifts from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at her,

She sighs, “Are we going to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, “Not tonight,” His face shakes only slightly.

“Ok,” She whispers.

And with that she walks slowly towards him, taking his hands in hers and resting her forehead on his, his head lowered to reach hers.

“It’s going to be ok,” He whispers to her.

She nods, choosing to stay silent, she’s worried that if she says even one word she’ll die.

He leads her through to their bedroom and lays down bringing her down with him.

“It’s going to be ok,” She whispers into the dark of the room.

So wrapped in her husband and the pain that’s settled on his face, that she fails to see the date illuminated on her alarm clock,

22nd February 2022.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11.30 pm

NYC,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

30 minutes after…

There’s a thunderous knocking at the door, and Ruth groans. It seems unfair to her at this moment that every time today that she has tried to have some sort of peaceful rest she has been disturbed.

The knocking grows louder and louder, “Mikey…” She groans into her pillow, her hand reaching up to his pillow, her head lifting sharply when her hand touches the pillow that’s grown cold in the absence of Mikey.

“Mikey!” She calls louder, hoping that he is in the other room.

Finally she gives up the thought that Mikey is going to rescue her from having to leave their bed, she makes her way towards the pounding at the door looking into rooms as she walks past. Her heart begins to beat faster as every room she passes reveals the clear lack of Mikey in their apartment.

Her hand stills as it settles on the front door handle, the knocking has intensified and for some reason, for no reason at all she thinks that when she opens the door something is going to change.

And that’s when it hits, that she knows exactly hwo is behind those doors and knows exactly what they are going to say.

Because she has lived this before.

She knows exactly where Mikey had gone, she knows exactly what he’s done.

Her legs threaten to give in as the reality of these realisations hit her.

She stands there staring at the door, the pounding becoming muffled and hazy as she realises the second chance she’s been given, and then how she’s wasted it, that instead of saving Mikey she’d berated him, lectured him,

She may as well have been the one holding the gun, pulling the trigger, she had killed him long before tonight.

The door opens, Ruth finds herself surprised she can’t remember turning her hand to open the door.

The officer standing in the doorway has taken his hat off, and with a solemn look on his face raises his hand to make sure that the door doesn’t close.

As if she’ll close the door on him.

Why would she do that?

“Mrs. Berzatto, may I come in?”

[i-probably-will-hesitate]

Chapter 1 -

How Could You Think I'd Scare So Easily?

It’s freezing, and not for the first time today Ruth reminds herself that this dress was not the right choice for a March Funeral.

She had spent almost a week staring at her wardrobe, trying to decide on what to wear before settling on this. The material was silky, it was short and tight and it had been his favourite.

It was silly she knew, she should have picked something to wear that wouldn’t guarantee she would contract hypothermia, but it had been his favourite, and that had been the end of it. Any argument she had began to form in her mind over the silliness of her dress choice had been stopped, because it had been his favourite.

And that was all she had left.

All any of them had left.

So that had been that.

Because that’s what happens when someone dies. The people who are left behind, cling onto the memories that they have and try to convince themselves that everything had been better than it actually had been.

The people who are left behind, stare at the family picture, the one taken on Christmas Day and they stare at the smiles on faces and chuckle at the odd memory and completely forget the mental breakdowns, the arguments and the car through the living room wall.

Maybe they don’t forget, not completely, but just lock those memories away.

Either way, Ruth had forgotten, but she was already half way through her second bottle of wine before 9 in the morning, but, she reasoned with herself, if there was ever a day she needed to be drunk, it was today.

“You ok?” A voice called from behind her, she turned an eyebrow raised,

“Sugar…” She started but found she had nothing to say, no sarcastic comment, no comforting phrase, maybe that was enough.

It wasn’t.

It didn’t seem that Sugar had taken her tone too personally, although Ruth noted from her red rimmed eyes and slight wobble in his step, that she was most likely just as drunk as her.

This is killing her.

“You know, you don’t need to say anything, you can leave it, maybe in a couple of months we can talk about it,” She offered, settling opposite her leaning on the radiator.

It was a shitty radiator that rattled and made some sort of choking noise when it was turned on. Mikey had promised that he would fix it, but it had been put on the back burner and then…

And then…

Ruth swallowed back the lump that was growing at the back of her throat, but nevertheless shook her head,

“If I don’t speak today, I will be silent forever,”

She nodded, “Then we need to get going, neither of us are in any state to drive and it’s a twenty minute walk,”

Ruth sighed, “He picked a terrible time of year to die,”

Sugar just looked at her, the stare went on for what felt like years, her face gave nothing away but the small wobble of her chin gave her the impression she had said the wrong thing.

She couldn't help it, she had only stated the truth.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Donna’s making a show of herself and the first time in the 7 years that Ruth had known her she doesn't care. She has absolutely no interest in how that woman conducts herself.

Sugar stands up to help her mother down from the altar, but Ruth only rolls her eyes.

Leave her, she thinks.

It’s what Mikey would have expected of his funeral, it’s what they had all expected as soon as Donna had said she wanted to say something,

A complete and utter fucking disaster.

The church goes silent, as Donna is dragged out by someone as she continues to shout at the top of her voice.

She has lost her child, Ruth reminds herself, half expecting sympathy to flood her body as she repeats in her head over and over again,

She lost her child.

She’s not surprised, not really when the sympathy does not appear, Sugar, having been sent back to her seat, takes in a deep shuddering breath from next to her and then just like that it is her turn, and all of a sudden she is not prepared.

Her hands begin to shake as the priest gestures for her to stand up, she faintly feels Sugar take hold of her elbow and slowly lift her up, she reaches around to hold her waist as her knees fail her.

“Come on,” she whispers into her ear as he leads her up to the altar, “You can do this,”

“I don’t think that I can,” She whispers back her voice wobbly.

Sugar looks at her, waiting for her to turn her head to face her sister in law, “You don’t have any choice,”

Ruth doesn’t have anything to say to that, because she knows that she is right, she will never be able to sleep again if she does not speak here, he knew it even when he offered her an out.

Sugar leaves her up there and she’s sure that betrayal burns bright in her eyes. But she can't hate her, not really, she is just as much in pain as she is.

The crowd looks up at her and her throat tightens up. She had only felt like this once before, when Mikey had ordered a new, rare batch of fish, and she had had an allergic reaction to it, right in the middle of the kitchen at work. Why he had ordered fish, she would never know.

She remembered as she laid in Mikey’s arms as she struggled to breath, that Richie had been yelling at the top of his voice, she had thought that at the time he had been shouting for somebody to call an ambulance, she later found out he had been shouting at Mikey, I told you so,

I told you so.

I told you so.

Tiffany had asked him for a divorce, the day before so Ruth hadn’t held it against him for too long.

She hadn’t seen him since before… before, he wasn’t here. He was probably laying in a puddle of alcohol, in his apartment that had been falling apart for years, she wished she was there now.

She cleared her throat, the paper in her hand trembling, the sweat that had gathered in her palms had smudged the writing on the paper, she folded it up and placed it neatly on the chair next to the lectern.

She cleared her throat again, the crowd stared up expectantly.

Her gaze fixed on Sugar, whose head is bowed, his shoulders shaking slightly, and all of a sudden it’s just too much.

She wonders where Carmy is.

Ruth picks up her ruined piece of paper and moves to make her way back down to her seat, but she is stopped by the coffin. The coffin that is displayed so proudly right in the middle of the altar.

A stray cough disturbs her thoughts, her stomach rolling. The crowd continues to stare at her, her mind is screaming at her,

Speak

Speak

Speak.

But nothing comes out, until Donna makes a reappearance, the way she sways walking up the aisle makes Ruth think that Donna has drunk both her and Sugar under the table. Donna stops half way up the aisle and lifts her head making direct eye contact with Ruth,

“Well are you going to speak or are we going to be staring at you for the rest of the day?”

Ruth squares her shoulders and moves to stand back in the middle of the altar.

“Michael, “

Silence.

“Michael was my husband,”

Donna snorts loud enough for the congregation to shift slightly, “Tell us something we don’t know,”

Ruth sees Sugar move to silence her mother.

“Michael was my husband and I love him.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

8 am,

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

22nd February 2022.

15 and a half hours before.

Ruth grumbles, as she is ripped harshly from her dream by the sound of the phone ringing. She fumbles for her mobile, which she left on her bedside table but frowns when she realises it’s not her phone that’s ringing.

With a curse she drags herself from her bed and shivers as she stumbles through the hallway of her apartment. Not for the first time, her annoyance with Mikey bubbles over as she realises it’s the landline that he insisted they needed is ringing.

“Hello,” Her tone is sharp and short, sending a clear message to whoever it is at the end of the phone, that she is not pleased.

“Finally, you think keeping your mother in law waiting so long is a good idea?”

“Donna,” Ruth sighs as she leans against the wall curling her feet in slightly as the cold on the wooden floors takes root.

“Well?” The woman on the other end demands.

“I’m sorry Donna, what do you need?”

“Have you heard from Sugar?”

“No, should I have?”

“She hasn’t called me.”

Ruth pinches the bridge of her nose, irritation rising through her, “Donna, it’s so early, can I help you or not?”

The dull hum at the other end indicates that Donna has hung up the phone. Ruth doesn’t find it in herself to care, all she wants is to go back to work. She has a whole week off, Mikey will be joining her on his own holiday tomorrow and everything will be better.

As Ruth walks through the apartment, back to her bed she finds herself mindlessly cleaning up the mess all around her. Rogue socks pushed under the couch and empty take out littering the coffee table.

She had meant to clean up last night, but they’d argued.

Again.

And she couldn’t find it in herself to face the filth that covered their apartment, she sighs dropping the items of clothing she had picked up, she still can’t.

Her bed is warm as she settles back in, she subconsciously moves herself so that she lays her head on his pillow, although he’d left at least two hours before if she closes her eyes she can pretend he’s still here.

Instead he’s stood in the middle of a restaurant that’s currently haemorrhaging money, so much so that they are experiencing their second New York City Winter with no heating.

Ruth can tolerate the cold when he’s here, wrapping her up in his arms.

She sighs as she lifts herself once again from their bed, she can’t go back to sleep, no matter how hard she tries, and so she might as well make the most of her first day off from work.

She’ll make dessert for family today, and Mikey will forgive her for the screaming match last night.

Yes she says to herself, today will be a better day.

A much better day.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 pm,

Chicago,

The Original Beef of Chicagoland,

9 and a half hours before.

The restaurant is in complete chaos when Ruth arrives and lets herself in, there’s one hour until it opens and what is supposed to be a time where they all sit down together to eat, seems to have erupted in some sort of war zone.

Tina’s in the corner shouting something that Ruth can’t make out over Richie and Mikey’s screaming match. Amidst the shouting Sugar makes her way over to Ruth.

Her eyes are full of tears as she make her way to her and grabs her hand,

“They’ve gone crazy, they’re shouting about money or something,” Sugar whispers into her ear, her voice shaking.

“What money?” Ruth asks, her eyes widening.

“I don’t know!” Sugar says immediately dissolving into frantic sobs. Ruth pulls Sugar into her arms, completely overwhelmed by Sugar’s tears, unused to the woman being so overwhelmed by an argument.

Marcus eventually comes over to take Sugar off of Ruth’s hands as the younger woman makes her way over to her husband and his best friend.

“Mikey,” Ruth calls not being heard over the argument that is becoming increasingly more aggressive.

“Mikey,” She calls again, this time placing her hand on his shoulder hoping to get his attention.

He turned, his face full of fury, his shoulders drawn tightly, “Ruth,” His voice is full of anger although he seems to deflate as he takes in the horror on his wife’s face. Both Richie and Tina stop shouting as they stop to watch the scene unfold.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his shoulders lowering, reaching to take her hand, he’s so gentle that the anger on his face is almost laughable.

Her chin shakes as she holds up the dish of biscuits that she had started baking at 8 this morning, “I brought dessert,”

He shakes his head, “You don’t usually come over,” she can see that he doesn’t really mean it but it still upsets her.

Tina sucks in a breath, before she begins shouting again this time in the defence of Ruth who seems to have shrunk into herself impossibly small.

“Fuck,” He said, running his hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean it like that,”

Ruth nodded, “You better not have,” before turning to face both Richie and Tina, “Can you two stop shouting for one minute?”

The restaurant is silent once again bar heavy breathing and the stifled sobs of Sugar.

“Now is anybody going to tell me what this screaming match is about,” Ruth asks her voice cold.

Richie snorts, gaining Ruth’s attention, “Why don’t you ask him?” Gesturing to Mikey who lowers his head.

She turns once again to her husband, “What’s happened?”

Silence.

“Mikey, what happened?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9 pm,

Chicago

Michael and Ruth Berzatto’s Apartment,

2 hours before.

Ruth had spent the rest of her day in darkness.

Not literal darkness, she’d put all the lights on in the apartment to spite Mikey, he was always on about the waste of electricity… so she turned them all on.

Childish.

But the anger that was pulsing through her was almost overwhelming, and she knew that it was stupid and irresponsible but she couldn’t help being mad.

He’d told her he was better.

He’d promised.

But he wasn’t.

And so she had spent the rest of her day, scrolling through the internet looking for a rehab to send him too. Somewhere nice, where he could relax and cook , and still enjoy life.

Scrolling through the internet trying to find somewhere affordable, somewhere close, somewhere that would cure him.

She was drawing blanks.

They wouldn’t be able to afford to send him anywhere nice,

Was nice a good word to describe rehab?

Whether it was the right word to use the sentiment remained the same, nowhere was affordable and those that were, were complete and utter shitholes, not the place she wanted to send her husband.

It was Richie who had found the small plastic ziplock bag filled to the brim with pills and when he’d confronted Mikey, he’d gotten mad. It turned out that Tina was shouting over the fact that somebody had moved her pot, Ruth wasn’t sure it had been found by the time she left.

Mikey had taken her into the office and told her the story, she‘d listened with glossy eyes.

As he took her through the story of how he became, in his words, “A total fuck up,” she found her eyes getting lost in the memories that sat in the office.

He’d kissed her for the first time in that office, it had been rushed and heavy but he’d lifted her up onto the desk and all her worries had gone away.

And now she was spending the first day of her holiday, looking up rehabs for her husband. She took in a deep shuddering breath in as the lock of the front door began to jingle, signalling Mikey’s return.

She squared her shoulders as she stood at the end of the hallway facing the door head on.

Everything is going to be ok.

Mikey sighs, dropping his bag at the entryway as he takes in his wife.

Evenings aren’t usually like this, usually they get home together, completely enamoured with one another.

Mikey had hired Ruth two days after her 25th birthday, taking her on when she had nowhere to go and no previous experience working in a restaurant. Still he’d taken one look at her tear stained face and had hired her on the spot.

He takes a step forward, she doesn’t move.

“Ruth,” he shifts from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at her,

She sighs, “Are we going to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, “Not tonight,” His face shakes only slightly.

“Ok,” She whispers.

And with that she walks slowly towards him, taking his hands in hers and resting her forehead on his, his head lowered to reach hers.

“It’s going to be ok,” He whispers to her.

She nods, choosing to stay silent, she’s worried that if she says even one word she’ll die.

He leads her through to their bedroom and lays down bringing her down with him.

“It’s going to be ok,” She whispers into the dark of the room.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11.30 pm

Chicago

Ruth Berzatto’s Apartment

30 minutes after…

There’s a thunderous knocking at the door, and Ruth groans. It seems unfair to her at this moment that every time today that she has tried to have some sort of peaceful rest she has been disturbed.

The knocking grows louder and louder, “Mikey…” She groans into her pillow, her hand reaching up to his pillow, her head lifting sharply when her hand touches the pillow that’s grown cold in the absence of Mikey.

“Mikey!” She calls louder, hoping that he is in the other room.

Finally she gives up the thought that Mikey is going to rescue her from having to leave their bed, she makes her way towards the pounding at the door looking into rooms as she walks past. Her heart begins to beat faster as every room she passes reveals the clear lack of Mikey in their apartment.

Her hand stills as it settles on the front door handle, the knocking has intensified and for some reason, for no reason at all she thinks that when she opens the door something is going to change.

Where has Mikey gone?

The door opens, Ruth finds herself surprised she can’t remember turning her hand to open the door.

The officer standing in the doorway has taken his hat off, and with a solemn look on his face raises his hand to make sure that the door doesn’t close.

As if she’ll close the door on him.

Why would she do that?

Where is Mikey?

“Mrs. Berzatto may I come in?”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Michael was my husband, and I love him,”

She shuffles slightly, willing herself not to cry.

“The first time I met Micheal, he offered me a job,” She smiles slightly, “I had no resume, no experience but I had just been kicked out of my apartment. I was crying and he let me speak for two minutes before offering me the job.”

Someone blows their nose.

“And that was my first impression of him, that he was kind. And then for the next 7 years he was kind to me and loved me,”

She takes a deep breath.

“He took me in, taught me how to cook and he loved me, and I loved him,”

Silence.

“I loved him and I failed to see just how much pain he was in, he struggled for so long and I did nothing to help him.” Tears begin to fall, “I hope that the peace he searched for in this life he finds in the next.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day goes on and Ruth just about manages to keep herself afloat.

She finds herself pressed against the walls of Donna’s house. Donna said it should have been Ruth who hosted the wake, but Ruth had refused.

It had been too much to let strangers into her home. If she had visitors then she would have to clean and that would clear any trace of Michael.

She’d still have his clothes, and the photos and the piles and piles of cookbooks. But if she cleaned she’d have to scrub the coffee stains from the bedside cabinets, she’d have to clean the sheets that still held the smell of him.

And if that happened then he would cease to exist, and Ruth thought to herself that she could live in the dust and the grime for the rest of her life if it meant that she could pretend even for just one second that he was still alive.

“Nearly over,” Sugar tells her, having appeared seemingly from nowhere.

Ruth turns her head a fraction so that Sugar knows she’s speaking to her, “Have you heard from Carmy?”

Sugar shakes her head, “He said he’d try and make it,” the older woman snorts, “Obviously didn’t try that hard,”

Ruth shrugged her shoulders, “Everybody grieves differently, I guess,” She gestures to where Donna had finally passed out on the couch, “Like your mother, who I think has drunk every bottle of wine in New York,”

A small smile appears on Sugar’s face, and for a second it feels like before. Like if Ruth closes her eyes, it’ll be the holidays again with Mikey and Carmy bickering in the kitchen while Donna screams at everybody about something and her and Sugar stand in the back gossiping.

And then all of sudden it’s over and the warmth vanishes from her face and all that’s left is the cold March air, and it’s choking her, “What are we going to do Natalie?”

Sugar startles at the use of her real name, “We keep on living, it’s what he’d want,”

But Ruth only finds herself getting angry, “Oh and what we’re supposed to just do what he’d want,” She turns to Sugar, her eyes ablaze with grief, “Well he’s dead so he doesn’t really get a choice over whether I keep on living does he?”

She looks as if she’s going to say something, she looks like she might chain Ruth to the radiator to stop her from flinging herself out of her apartment window.

But then a man appears. He’s old, he’s bald and he carries this air of sorrow around him like sadness follows him everywhere he goes.

“Mrs. Berzatto?” He questions, his voice is croaky it suits him Ruth thinks to herself.

“That’s me,” She says.

“I’m Mr. Allens, I was your late husband’s solicitor,”

Ruth scoffs, “Mikey barely had money to pay for the lights at home, but he had a solicitor on the side?” Her words are biting but Mr Allens seems unaffected, like he’s used to being spoken to like this, if Ruth wasn’t so consumed by her grief, she’d find it quite sad.

“No, ma’am I’m just here for the reading of the will, it was a one time payment to write his will and then come and then read it for the family, I can wait until all your guests have gone home though” He explained.

“How thoughtful,” Ruth replied.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Last Will and Testament of Michael Berzatto

“Now, I’m sure you’re all aware as to why you’re here,” Mr Allens begins clearing his throat as the Berzattos do nothing but stare straight at him.

It would look like none of them had any interest in current affairs but the old solicitor could see straight through this family, their cold looks were just a mask for how broken all of them really were.

The old man went to open the will, but was stopped by door swinging open revealing the youngest Berzatto looking windswept and as if he hadn’t slept for weeks, “Carmy,” Ruth breathes, a sense of relief rushing through her that the man was alright.

She moves to pull him into a hug that she holds for far longer than she usually would, she lets him go only for Sugar to take her brother into her arms and hold him so hard that Ruth worries he’ll stop breathing any second.

There is no time for explanations or apologies as Mr. Allens clears his throat once more, seemingly unphased by the commotion but wanting to get on.

“Well,” He pushes his glasses up his nose, “Well, it seems this will be quite the straightforward matter, “

“The will reads as follows, I Micheal Berzatto, being of sound mind declare that all finances solely under my name are to go to my wife Ruth Berzatto,”

Donna shifts, levelling Ruth with a look that she struggles to decipher, “Furthermore I declare that ownership of my business, ‘The Original Beef of Chicagoland,’ is to be split evenly between my sister Natalie Berzato, my brother Carmen Berzatto and my wife Ruth Berzatto,”

And then that’s it, the room lets one big breath out and then they’re gone.

Ruth’s not sure where they all went, but she stays, staying for hours until the sky is a charcoal black and the streetlamps are turned on. She walks home, alone and sees nothing, walking steps she has subconsciously memorised rather than paying any attention.

Her apartment is cold, and the silence is all consuming as she realises maybe for the first time that, this is it, the rest of her life, all alone.

She’ll go back to work, she knows that Carmy is coming back to help, and she’ll get on with the rest of her life.

She will wake everyday alone in her bed made for two, she will rise and make breakfast, and go out and work and come home and she will be alone.

Ruth knows as she stands in the middle of her apartment that she will never love again, not in the way that she loved Michael, and she begins to cry as that realisation is not as comforting as she might have liked.

She begins to peel off her dress, her hands clammy as she moves towards her window, it was one of the things that had drawn her to the apartment in the first place. When she and Michael had gone to have a look she had been unsure, the wall paper had been peeling and there seemed to be a leak coming from the ceiling.

And yet the minute she had laid eyes on that window she knew that this apartment was all she had ever wanted. A big wide window that opened up onto a balcony that overlooked the entirety of the city, it had been as beautiful then as it was suffocating now.

She continues to walk closer and closer until her palms are pressed onto the glass of the window, and stands there and watches as the city goes by. Ruth wonders what would happen if the whole of Chicago felt how she was feeling now, would they fall to the floor in their grief or would they carry on with their lives?

Ruth wonders what she will do, whether she will crumble under the weight of her own fracturing mind or will she just keep moving through the day, not really there but not really dead.

She wonders how long it will take for that kind of life to kill?

It doesn’t scare her when her mind whispers cruelly in her ear. ‘Hopefully soon’

Ruth turns towards her bed and hopes that maybe she won’t be disturbed from her sleep for a very, very long time.

[i-probably-will-hesitate]

I'll Tell Them Put Me Back In It

tw/ suicide references, gun references, drug references.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4