37. Hunter
37
HUNTER
Now
T he first time Rae left me, I didn’t fight.
I didn’t catch a flight to New York and track her down even though it wouldn’t have been hard to. I didn’t call her every day and wear her down until she agreed to talk to me because I was afraid that I’d succeed in convincing her to come back to me. That I’d get her to come back just so I could ruin us some more.
When she walked out of my house almost two weeks ago after telling me we could never have what we’d found in each other again, I let her go because I was afraid there was nothing I could say that would make her choose me.
I’ve regretted that choice since the moment I made it, but I’ve only just gotten the courage to try to rectify my mistake. And I have Taurin to thank for that. Earlier this week, I saw him get the courage to reach out to his parents one more time because his little brother’s birthday is coming up, and they not only responded positively but invited him to lunch at their house. I dropped him off, which gave me a chance to meet them and let them know how well he’s been doing, and then I left and drove here.
Here, being En Pointe. Well, more specifically, the parking spot on the street outside of En Pointe, where I’ve been sitting for the better part of an hour trying to get the courage to go in. Rae is here; I know that because I parked right beside her car, so I know that’s where I need to be, but I just can’t bring myself to move, which isn’t good for my objective or the bouquet of flowers wilting in my passenger seat.
“Are those for the school or for the owner?”
I nearly jump out of my skin when Dee’s voice breaks into my thoughts. She’s got her face damn near plastered to my passenger window, but she’s still yelling to make sure that I heard her.
“Jesus!” I shout while she clutches her sides and laughs at my expense. I’m not someone who is usually caught off guard, so I’m sure she’s getting a kick out of sneaking up on me. To further annoy me, she pulls at the door handle until I unlock it and allow her in.
“You’ve gotta pay attention to your surroundings,” she chides, wagging a finger at me before turning her gaze to the flowers. I watch her eyes get round as she scoops them up out of the seat. “These are gorgeous, Hunter. Rae’s going to love them.”
Before I can say a word, she’s got the flowers out of the car and is bumping the door closed with her hip. I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as I cut the engine and follow her inside the building. Dee has been back in New Haven for a week, and she’s already managed to work every one of my last nerves.
Thanks to this new co-parenting arrangement where Rae uses everyone and everything to act as a buffer between us, I’ve seen more of Dee than I did when she used to practically live at my house. When I call Rae, she picks up the phone. When Rae brings Riley to the house to drop her off for the weekend, Dee is in the car. I love the girl, but I’m sick of looking at her.
“Who said they’re for Rae?” I ask, hitting a jog to catch up with her. She tosses an incredulous look over her shoulder.
“Who else would they be for?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my daughter?”
Dee sets the vase, which is bigger than Riley, on the reception desk and plucks the card free. I wasn’t going to get one, but I decided to just in case I changed my mind about coming in and opted to drop the flowers off in lieu of conversation.
“To everything you are and everything you’ll become,” Dee says loudly, reading the words off with an annoyingly dramatic flourish. “Congratulations, Sunshine.” She taps the card on her chin. “Remind me, when did you start calling Riley ‘Sunshine’?”
I grimace at her. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Nope. I’ve got all sorts of free time on my hands these days.”
“Don’t tell me they finally revoked your license because they realized you should be on the other side of the doctor/patient dynamic.”
She flips me off. “There’s nothing wrong with therapists being in therapy. In fact, that’s the way it should be.”
“True.” I glance around, having lost all interest in the conversation, and my heart swells with pride as I take in the space. It’s been completely transformed, and I’m dying to know if it’s everything Rae wants it to be.
“She’s in the back,” Dee tells me, picking up the vase again and putting it in my hands. “Go and give her these. She’ll love them.”
Accepting that Dee is not going to let me out of here without seeing Rae, I take the flowers and head down the hall, going all the way to the end, where Rae’s office is. Her door is open, but I still knock, not wanting to catch her off guard when she’s clearly not all that comfortable being in a room alone with me.
“Come in,” she calls without looking up from the papers on her desk. Once again, I feel that shock of pride roll through me.
“You’re really doing it,” I blurt, unable to keep the words in. Rae’s head snaps up, and she shoots to her feet, the picture of elegance with her hair pulled back into a slick bun and a sage green pantsuit on. It’s got three pieces: a form-fitting corset that hugs her breasts and allows her to flaunt her toned stomach, an oversized blazer that hangs open and stops at the top of her thigh, showing off the pleated waist.
All of her jewelry is gold, reminding me of the band of the engagement ring I bought for her all those years ago. I still have it. I hope one day soon I’ll be able to give it to her. That reality only happens if I say what I’ve come here to say, though, so I can’t lose my nerve. I can’t let the wall I helped her rebuild between us continue to stand.
“Hunter.” She smooths a hand down her legs even though she looks perfect. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
For a moment, we just stand there and look at each other. And it feels like it did when she first came back to New Haven. When we didn’t know what to do with the charged air around us, so we just stood around, hoping the tension would dissipate.
It didn’t then, and it doesn’t now.
“These are for you,” I tell her, advancing on her slowly to place the vase on the corner of her desk. Once it’s settled, I step back, aware of the way Rae doesn’t breathe until I’m out of her orbit.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome.”
Rae holds my face in her gaze. It feels like it’s been years since she’s looked at me when in reality, it’s only been weeks. It doesn’t matter because it’s been too long.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It’s not a question or an accusation. Just an observation. Just a solid truth she can’t deny even though she looks like she wants to.
“I have.”
“Why?”
“Hunter, you know why.”
“You’re right.” I’m taking slow steps towards her while her eyes beg me to stay away. My eyes tell her that she should ask me for anything else but that. I close the space between us in just a few seconds, and Rae stands her ground. Her chest heaves, and her eyes flare with restless indignation, but she stands her ground. “I do know why, so let’s skip over that and get to the part where you tell me how to get you to stop.”
Her eyes fall shut. “You can’t.”
I place one careful hand on her waist, and my thumb brushes against the sliver of skin that’s been neglected by her corset and pants. Rae sucks in a ragged breath.
“Rae.”
“Don’t do this, Hunter,” she pleads, opening her eyes again.
“Don’t do what? Don’t make you remember what it was like when you weren’t fighting me anymore? Don’t remind you that every time I told you I loved you that night, you said it back? Don’t tell you that I’ve missed you, that I regret letting you put that fucking wall back up between us when all I wanted to do is ask, no, beg , you to give us a real chance?”
It was my intention to come into this conversation with just a little bit of finesse, but it turns out that I’m incapable of doing that, so I just keep going.
“We deserve a real chance, Rae. You know it just as well as I do.”
Something inside her awakens at my assertion, and she steps back, shaking her head as she puts space between us. “No, I don’t know that, Hunter.”
“Yes, you do. You’re just too scared to admit it.”
“I’m not scared,” she lies, moving away further, this time rounding her desk to put a tangible barrier between us. “I’m just not willing to let one night of sex make me forget everything I know to be true.”
I hate everything about her tone, about the way she’s using it to keep me at arm’s length.
“And what is it you know to be true, Rae?”
Her eyes are hard as they settle on me, and I see what she’s trying to do. I see what the fear she swears she’s not caving to is making her do, and it pisses me off.
“I know that you’re not ready for this.” She gestures between us. “You think you are, but you’re not.”
My jaw clenches with restrained rage, and I contain the urge to look around this building she’s standing in and remind her of the million and one ways I’ve shown her that I am ready for this, for her, for Riley, for everything our life would entail.
“You don’t get to tell me that I can’t do this, Rae.”
“If I can’t, then who can?”
“I can!” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “I know myself. I know what I can handle and what I can’t, and I can handle this. I can handle you and all the complications and stress that come along with building something real.” I pause, and my throat aches around the broken words that come next. “I’m strong enough this time.”
“I believed you when you said that before,” Rae says, her voice deathly quiet. Her eyes razor sharp as they rove over my features with the kind of precision that tells me she’s been thinking about this for a long time. “When everything happened with Will, I trusted you when you said you were good. I listened when you said you could handle the things you took off my plate, and you crumbled under the pressure. You fell apart, and you nearly died.”
The pain on her face speaks a language that only the pain in my heart understands. They talk for a long time, their conversation filling the long, silent seconds when I can’t even formulate a response to Rae because it hurts too much to address what she’s said.
“Do you really have so little faith in me now?” I whisper. “After everything I’ve shown you? After all the ways I’ve shown up for Riley and for you?”
“I didn’t ask you to show up for me,” Rae says.
“But I did it anyway!” I roar, unable to keep my voice down, even though I know I shouldn’t yell. It just hurts so fucking much to see her so steadfast in her resolve, so committed to thinking that I’m the same man I was when I failed her all those years ago. I push out a breath, forcing myself to lower my tone. “And I did it because I love you, Rae. I did it because I love Riley. Because I love our family, and I am at my best when I am with you.”
Rae shakes her head. “I just don’t think that’s true.”
“Am I interrupting something?”
Aaron’s voice comes from behind me, and I don’t move immediately. I stare at Rae, and she stares back at me with that same maddening resolute expression. I can’t take it. I can’t stomach it. I can’t fucking believe it, so I stand there like a fool, waiting to be dismissed.
“No,” Rae says, looking past me to Aaron. “Hunter was just leaving.”