by Allen, Dylan
She clears her throat and her smile falters. “We have a lot of catching up to do. I am really just here to check on you. I promise. We can go inside or talk out here. Either’s fine with me, but I’d rather do it sitting down.” She nods at her feet and lifts one of her legs up to indicate the heel on the boot she’s wearing.
“Oh shit.” I shake my head. It’s Kal, not the fucking FBI. If she’s here, there’s a reason. I’m treating her like she’s a hostile enemy.
I’ve been out here alone with my anger for too long.
“I’m sorry. Sorry. Come in.” I wave her to follow me and I head back to the house. Nancy’s tongue is pressed to the glass of the door and I can see the eagerness in her eyes.
“I’ve got a dog, though. She’s skittish. I rescued her, and she’s got some kind of PTSD. Instead of running from people she tries to attack them.”
I turn just as she’s making her way up the stairs and I hold out a hand to her. She doesn’t hesitate to slip hers into mine.
I wish she had.
That touch, the slide of her soft palm against mine is like dropping a goldfish into the mouth of a starving shark – hardly enough.
I’m trying to think, figure out how I’m going to handle sitting next to her when I want to pull her into me and hold her there. But she’s someone else’s wife. I let go of her.
“Oh.” She looks in surprise at her companionless hand and then, back at me. I smile stiffly.
“I’ll go in first and hold her back. Once she sees us being friendly for a few minutes, she’ll be cool.”
She eyes the dog wearily but gives me a genuinely happy smile. “I don’t have pets, but I’ve always wanted one. You rescue her from a shelter around here?”
“Nope. Someone chopped her tail off and threw her in a ditch to bleed to death. I found her on one of my runs and brought her home. She just took to me.”
“Another Remi person, I see.” she says a wry smile tugging the corner of her pretty mouth. It’s enchanting.
I look away from her, open the door and grab Nancy’s collar just as she lunges for Kal.
Kal shrieks and steps backward. “Oh my God, you weren’t kidding. Has she bitten you?”
“No. And she won’t bite you, either. She’s just trying to scare you because she doesn’t know you’re not here to hurt her.”
I scratch her chin and smile down at her
“Do you, girl? She won’t hurt you.” I slide a glance at Kal and wink. “She only breaks human hearts.”
She flushes.
“Come in. Rub her head once, she’ll be good. She’ll slink off and won’t come out until she’s hungry.”
Kal looks between me and the dog like she’s not sure she believes either one of us.
Then, she drops to her knees and brings herself almost eye level with Nancy. “Hey,” she says softly in return to Nancy’s growl. She puts a hand on her head. “I understand, baby. I wouldn’t like people either. I’m Kalilah. I’m nice, like he said. And don’t mind his talk about hearts. I’ve never been the one to do the breaking.” She looks up and smiles in that sweet way she has and I have to look away again. She is so beautiful it steals my breath.
“What kind of dog is she?”
“I don’t know. The vet said she’s a mutt. But that black coat and her height say she’s at least part mastiff of some sort. We just don’t know.”
Nancy huffs contentedly and turns her nose until it’s in Kal’s palm. I blink down at her. “Well, that’s a record. Takes her a few visits to give that to anyone.”
“Hmm, maybe she can smell the little girl in me who always pined for a friend just like her,” she says.
At the mention of that little girl, I remember that Kal shouldn’t be here.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?” I ask, pulling Nancy back.
She looks up sharply and stands. “I was in Houston for work. I called your office—thought we could catch up over lunch or something. When I couldn’t get a hold of you there, I called Regan.”
“Regan doesn’t know where I am.”
“No, but Rachel does. She gave me the address.”
“Rachel did? She’s still in Rivers Wilde?”
“Yeah, she asked me not to tell anyone. So I didn’t. I just got in my rental and drove out here.”
“Why?”
“Your sister is worried sick. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’ve gone off the grid completely.” She looks around again.
“I’m perfectly happy out here. I have clients. They pay me in cash, food, cleaning services, and yard work. I don’t have to worry that I’m living in a nest of vipers like I do with my own family.” I realize my voice has gone from even to loud and she takes a step toward me. Her eyes are wide with alarm.
“Remi, what’s happened? Who hurt you?” she asks and my soul takes a deep sigh. The ten-pound weight that’s been pressed against my heart lightens because my person is here. She’ll understand. Because she always does.
Yet even in my state of I don’t give a fuck, I’m not devoid of common sense. I know Kal is my friend, but she’s also a journalist. “I’ll tell you, but what I tell you stays here.”
26
CATCHING UP
REMI
She’s sprawled on top of me, her head resting on my shoulder, her eyes closed. Our chests rise and fall in almost perfect unison and we lie there in silence, trying to catch our breaths and gather our thoughts.
That was unexpected. I lost my mind for a second. I break the silence with my confession.
“I want to say I’m sorry because I kind of just attacked you. But Kal, I’ve been waiting for you to be free for me to do that for what feels like nearly half my life.”
She slides her pretty brown eyes over to me and lifts the corner of her mouth in a satisfied smile. “I know. I’ve been waiting, too.”
Surprise has me sitting up, thinking I missed something.
“Really? I thought… you know, you were building a life. I thought you were happy.”
“Happy?” She looks away, her expression thoughtful. She sighs and shakes her head. “No, but she didn’t ask to be born, I chose to have her. And I wanted Bianca to have a stability I didn’t. In hindsight, it was completely misguided. Her life has been in constant upheaval for the last couple of years. I’m just finding my feet.”
Her smile is tight and forced. And just like when we were kids, I feel compelled to make it reach her eyes.
I shake my head at her. “Well, shit. I take my first vacation in nearly ten years and the world stopped turning. You motherfuckers can’t survive without me.”
She throws her head back and chuckles. “Thank the Lord your ego is still intact.”
I nudge her shoulder. “I mean, it. You being happily married was something I’d come to accept as fact.” I nod to my fridge. “It’s the only thing that kept me from coming to you. That you looked happy in those pictures.”
“Really? Well, the only person in that room who was truly happy was the photographer we paid to take our picture. For real.”
We both get lost in our thoughts for a minute. I break the silence with another confession.
“Want me to tell you something?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“You know, everyone thinks I’m married to my career. That I’ve chosen it over having a family.”
“Are they wrong?” she asks.
“Very. I didn’t move on because there was no one I wanted to move on with. I’m not the settling type, so I decided that I’d be alone.”
“Are you serious? You were going to be a bachelor forever?” she squawks.
“Why not? I have a satisfying career. My sister’s kids are like my own and I get a lot out of being their uncle. I serve my community and I date some fantastic women. Just none that gave me the urge that you did.”
I trail my fingers through her hair.
“Urge?” she drawls and leans into my touch.
“Yes… to dig deeper, to ask ques
tions, to welcome discomfort as a sign of growth. To stop believing in someone else’s version of my story and write it myself. You taught me all that. From the first time we met until just a few minutes ago, when you told me you left your husband to live more honestly. You’ve always been so honorable. Done the right thing. Been brave.”
“Really?” She shakes her head dubiously. “I haven’t felt brave in a long time. I certainly wasn’t brave enough to walk away until I was sort of forced to. The day he told me about his affair, I’d been terrified.” She grimaces.
“God, I’m sorry. Did things just get bad all of a sudden?”
“No.” She skims her bottom lip with the edge of her top teeth, biting down when she gets to the very center of it.
“It wasn’t sudden. Or honestly, even all that surprising.”
I trail a hand over her back and press a kiss to her shoulder. I can’t believe she’s here. I sink my teeth in her shoulder and she yelps.
“Why are you biting me?” She pulls away from me and rubs her shoulder to soothe it.
“Just making sure I wasn’t dreaming.”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to pinch yourself to figure that out,” she rubs her neck, but a smile tugs at her lips.
“Come here, let me soothe it.” She leans back in and I suck the spot tenderly.
“If you promise to always do that afterward, you can bite me any time.” She sighs and relaxes.
“So, what happened? With you and Paul?”
“Are you sure you want to talk about my marriage?” A skeptical frown mars her face.
“You’ve heard mine. Tell me yours.” I nudge her.
Her body relaxes on top of mine, and she blows out a long breath. “When I had Bianca, I took maternity leave. I loved being home with her, but I was ready to get back to work at the end of the three months. Paul was very unhappy at the prospect. He was raised so differently than me. He’s Catholic. Or at least he pretends to be when it’s convenient. He wanted me to stay home. I didn’t. There’s nothing wrong with being a full-time mother, it just wasn’t what I wanted. I had dreams beyond that. I also really resented the way being married changed my freedom of movement.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“I mean, when I met Paul, I had just started getting a taste of living the life I wanted. I was done with school, I had a job, was earning good money, had roommates, went out. Had sex, dated, whatever. I was free. Sure, it had been a hard road to get there, but I was free. And then, I fell into a trap.”
“He trapped you?” My body tenses at the idea.
“I trapped myself. I was careless about something I’d spent my whole life afraid of.”
“What getting pregnant?”
“No of being a cliché: young, single, pregnant. But, I don’t regret my daughter. I just wish I hadn’t married her father. It bound me to him in a way that made it very hard to extricate myself. I’m not sure I’d ever want to get married again.”
Surprise forces me to sitting. “Huh?”
“No, I mean, really. Our divorce was traumatic. We had a horrendous custody battle that I’m still paying off.” I can hear how weary she is just talking about it. I hadn’t really thought about marriage, but only because, for me, it’s a given.
“Why did you marry him, then?”
“Because I didn’t want to end up like my mother. Back then, single motherhood was akin to death.”
Her laugh is humorless.
“Being a stay at home mom felt like a small sacrifice to make for peace at home. When she started school and was gone all day, I started putting feelers out about jobs at the publishing houses.”
“Did you find something?”
“Yes, Paul, made such a stink. I turned it down.”
“Even with her in school? What did he expect you to do all day?”
“Things other media tycoons wives do, I guess. Go to lunches, fundraisers, cut ribbons at the openings of new hospital wings. Look pretty. Hair straight. Makeup flawless. That’s what he cared about. Don’t stand out. Be a picture-perfect wife. Suddenly my clothes were too revealing, too risqué. My hair looked unprofessional. I changed all of those things to try to make him happy.”
“I see,” is all I say. But now, I understand the slightly “Stepford Wives” vibe Kal gives off.
“Last year, my old boss called me up and asked me to come back. Said he’d bring me back in at the same level and title and everything. Bianca was almost eight. And I said yes. Paul said he was onboard. I was traveling a lot again.”
I pull away a little and eye her with surprise. “Did you like being on the road?”
“There’s no position in the field of investigative journalism that doesn’t require travel. I can’t exactly do an online search for the questions I’m trying to answer.” She huffs.
“Of course.”
“But while I was gone, he met someone and fell in love, filed for divorce and now he’s married to her.” She says it with admirable equilibrium.
I’m fucking glad that shit is out of the way but fuck him for throwing away such a treasure.
“He’s a spineless shit.”
“He is. He fought me for custody. I won, but it was brutal financially. Then, as soon as his new wife discovered that Bianca wasn’t going to call her Mommy, her weekends with him became few and far in between. I had to beg him to take her while I was here.”
Fuck him again.
“What about your mom?”
She sighs deeply, her absent stare is wistful. “I spent my whole life following her from disaster to disaster. From apartment to apartment. Her endless stream of boyfriends, the parties, even the arrest and foster care. I even forgave her for hiding my father’s identity.”
“I thought he was dead.” I ask about her last sentence.
“Nope. He’s alive and kicking. It’s David Lister.”
If she had touched me with just the tip of her finger right now, I would fall over.
“You’re kidding? Lister is your father?”
“No. He’s just the man who got my mother pregnant. I don’t even think about him, honestly. And I don’t want to talk about him now.” She says firmly, so I let it go because I don’t know what to make of it anyway.
“You and your mom seemed so tight.”
“We were. Like sisters… I didn’t know until after I had Bianca… that mothers aren’t supposed to be like sisters. She never really fought for me. She didn’t give up anything for me.”
“Not like you did for your daughter?” I finish her sentence and it coaxes her frown a little.
She nods sadly. “It’s what every mother should do. Even yours did.”
“Oh, mine… I don’t want to talk about her.” I dismiss her comment.
“She didn’t think I was what you needed. She fought for you. Even when she knew you’d hate her for it. Mine just dragged me behind her as she ran from her mistakes.”
“The grass is always greener, huh?”
“Sometimes, especially when you’ve got no grass at all.” she says quietly. She looks so tired. I hate that she’s had a rough time and that I’ve been sitting here twiddling my thumbs thinking she was happy.
“Anyway, Mom remarried. Lives in Atlantic City and we go visit a couple of times a year. Bianca looks a lot like her.” She smiles dreamily at the mention of her daughter.
“What’s she like, even though I feel like I already know her. All of those Christmas cards.” I nod over to the fridge again.
“And of course, she’s got a marvel for a mother.”
“I’m no marvel, Remi. I’m just determined.”
“Yes. You are. And you’ve never turned your back on anyone you love. If she’s learned that from you, then she’s incredible.”
“I think so. But I just love her and protect her. Who she is… is who she is. I’m so tired.”
“Where do you want to sleep? I have a spare bedroom. Or you can sleep with me.” I try to keep the desperation
out of my voice. But I know I failed when her eyes dart away uncomfortably.
“I think the spare bedroom is best. I’m not sure…”
“Listen, there’s no pressure. Not from me. Really. That you’re here is enough. When you’re sure—say the word.”
She nods, but narrows her eyes, her gaze thoughtful and probing.
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s been a long time. I’ve changed—” I stop her with a finger pressed to her lips. She kisses it and her eyes flutter closed.
“See? Time’s has just gone by. But we’re still the same.”
“Yes,” her agreement is little more than a sigh. I pull her to me, wrap my arms around her. Her arms go around my waist and she rests her head on my chest.
There’s no space between us, and I could stay right here forever.
“We still feel each other. Want each other.” I press a kiss to the side of her neck before I run my nose along it.
She sighs, burrows deeper into me.
“When’s the last time you had a conversation like that? When’s the last time you didn’t have a single blip of anxiety?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Me neither. So, I’m sure. And when you are, Kal. Just say the word. But you have to know… that this time, I’m playing for keeps.”
27
I REMEMBER
KAL
Shit. Fuck. Why did he have to say that?
When Remi stepped out with that gun, I almost pissed on myself. But then he looked at me like he’d been hunting and finally had his prey in his sights. I felt every single place his eyes landed on me as surely as he had touched me with those big strong hands of his.
I’d forgotten what a thrill it always was just to be in his presence. Like dancing on the edge of a fire, the flames licking the tips of my toes, but not feeling any fear, because he’d never let me hurt myself. Safe. Cherished, seen. Remi had made me feel all of those things.
It had been so long since I’d felt any of them.
I was so desperate to touch him, I ached. He looks impossibly handsome. His cheeks covered in a dark beard that my fingers itch to touch. His hair has grown, too. He’s always worn it close to his head, but today, it’s long enough to get lost in.
