Chapter Sixteen Remi #2
The knock at the front door was more of a light tap.
Remi didn’t rush to answer it. She stood in the foyer, steadying herself.
The sunlight had long retreated and there was only darkness against the windowpanes.
When she finally opened the door, Bianca stood there, flight weary and unsure, her luggage at her feet.
Remi said nothing. Bianca’s mouth parted—just slightly, as if to speak, but she hesitated.
Her hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and she wore black leggings with an embellished denim jacket.
Her eyes were tired, and she suddenly looked older, more fragile.
Maybe guilt had a way of aging a person.
“I took a Lyft from San Francisco,” Bianca finally said, her voice hoarse. “Longest ride ever.”
Remi stepped aside wordlessly, allowing her in.
She was grateful that the girls had taken off for Bodega Bay and had planned to have a late dinner somewhere along the way back.
That way she and Bianca could talk privately—or fight—whichever it ended up being.
They walked to the kitchen without speaking, the air thick with years of friendship and betrayal.
Bianca turned to face Remi, her posture stiff.
“Before you say anything,” Bianca started, “I just want to say I’m sorry. I feared that when you started talking about going through Gerard’s things—”
Remi leaned against the counter, arms folded. “You’re sorry,” she repeated, tasting the words, trying to feel something from them.
“I never meant for it to happen,” Bianca continued. “It was a mistake, a moment of weakness—”
“No,” Remi cut in, her voice calm but firm. “Stop calling it that. A moment is a kiss you regret. This was much more. Don’t minimize it.”
Bianca flinched as if the words slapped her. “You’re right. It wasn’t just a moment. But it was just a one-time thing, though—many, many years ago. It was a bad decision on both our parts. Alcohol played a huge role.”
Remi looked down at the kitchen island. “You sat in my home. You ate my food. We laughed together, cried together. You played auntie to my daughter. All the while—”
“I didn’t plan to sleep with Gerard.”
Remi stared at her. There it was—the confession. Heart pounding raw truth.
“Yet you did.” Remi’s voice cracked, just slightly, and she hated the way it made her feel vulnerable. “You did.”
Bianca’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It was early in my marriage with Harry, and I was going through a tough period in my life. And Gerard … Rem, I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did. And I hate myself for it every day.”
Remi was silent and just let her ramble on.
Bianca looked at her. “I didn’t mean to betray—”
She was grateful for self-control because in her mind she wanted to drag her across the hardwood flooring, by her hair, no less. But what good would that do?
Remi interrupted. Her voice raised. “You absolutely did mean to betray me. You both did! You had every opportunity, nineteen years’ worth of opportunities to tell me the truth, but you both held onto this secret for-fucking-ever.
And the only reason you’re telling me now is because you know that I know—”
“I wanted to tell you, Remi, I did. I begged Gerard … wanted us to come clean.”
Remi hated the sound of her using the word us when referring to her and Gerard.
It was difficult enough ridding her thoughts of them sleeping together, wondering when it was that it happened.
Where it was and, moreover, where she was when it took place.
She didn’t want to know, not really. But then again, she did.
It might’ve eased the anxiety she was feeling, and the tightness in her chest, or maybe it would intensify it.
“Gerard was terrified of losing you. You were his world,” Bianca continued.
“And you?” Remi spat. “Were you his world too?”
“I was his very big mistake, and he never let me forget it.”
“You had an obligation to me, an allegiance to me. You owed me loyalty, not Gerard.”
“I, too, was afraid of losing you, Remi,” Bianca admitted.
Remi paused for a moment, then she turned away from Bianca’s watery eyes.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing her cry, even when her abuelita died.
She’d held it together, refusing to let her guard down even then.
She may have cried in private, but never in front of Remi.
Still, Remi couldn’t let the tears distract her from unleashing all her hurt and pain onto Bianca.
“And now, because you both were these selfish … fucking … individuals, we all have to suffer the consequences … because you couldn’t abstain. And because of your secret, all of our lives are forever changed.”
“You’re right.” Bianca dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Was it good for you? The intimacy with my husband?”
“I barely even remember it, Rem. It was so many years ago. And I was drunk.”
“Like you were drunk the other night when you were pushing up on Leo? You wanted to screw him too?”
Bianca dropped her head in shame. And Remi regretted the words, but it was too late to take them back.
“I thought I knew you,” Remi said softly. “You were one of the only people I trusted.”
“I never stopped loving you, Remi. As my friend. As my sister.” Bianca’s voice cracked. “I messed up.”
Remi exhaled long and slow, then turned away, gripping the edge of the countertop to steady herself. “I don’t know what to do with this,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to do anything today,” Bianca said gently. “Or tomorrow. Or ever. I just needed to say it. You deserved that much.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was heavy. Finally, Remi broke the silence. “I need space. I need some time also.”
Bianca nodded. “I’ll go. I can probably get a flight out as early as morning.”
“You can stay until morning.” Remi said. “But then you have to go.”
Bianca turned to leave the kitchen.
“Bianca.”
She turned.
“If you really meant everything you just said,” Remi said in a composed but distant voice, “then give me the dignity of rebuilding without you watching.”
Bianca nodded, tears falling. “I understand.”
Remi stood still, listening to Bianca’s slow strides on the staircase.
She thought she would feel healed once she heard the truth, but she didn’t. She didn’t feel lighter, either.
All she felt was anguish.