Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Alicia
“Leese?” There were new wrinkles at the corner of Remi’s eyes. But it was unmistakably him. His broad shoulders, his tall frame. The curl of his upper lip, and the peaks of his cupid’s bow. High cheekbones, and the sharp, straight hook of his nose.
This man.
Here?
The man.
Here?
His eyes the color of the midnight sky, darted around the room. A room filled with the clean, sweet smell of tobacco from the soap he apparently still used. A dog treat rested on the familiar lines of his calloused palm.
“Yeah, I work here,” he explained. He dropped the Milk-Bone to the floor and pushed himself to stand. With unsteady legs he took a few steps backward.
At least he wasn’t on one knee anymore. Memory overlapping the present had been . . . a lot . . . on top of a shit ton.
So, not great.
“Since when?” I ignored the fact that I didn’t know how long I’d been speaking out loud or what I might have said.
“A couple of years.”
“But Arizona . . .”
His eyes flicked to mine and then to the floor.
He hadn’t told me he’d moved, just like he hadn’t told me he’d moved back.
We’d parted ways like two people playing chicken: the first to make contact lost. I’d distanced myself from the friends we had in common.
In twelve interminable months, I didn’t have any remaining connections to him. No more strings tying us together.
It’d been self-preservation, as much as spite.
A defense against the bombardment of grief and loss that flooded my system whenever his name was mentioned. But now I was desensitized to his existence.
And his existence was here.
“I moved a couple of years ago.” He rubbed a palm along his jaw, a nervous habit. “My friend, uh, Hazel, do you remember Hazel?”
I nodded, even though I was still searching the recesses of my mind.
A nice woman, who mostly kept to herself.
Smart. Competent. Remi always had a soft spot for quiet people—possibly why we never worked out.
He needed me to be quieter. I needed . .
. more. More reassurance. More connection. More of him.
My mouth still hung open. I cupped my throat, my bent elbow supported by my other hand.
“Uh, she owns this place.”
I pointed at the floor beneath our feet.
“Yeah.” His head jerked to look at something over his shoulder.
“Wow. She’s young.” She was a couple of years younger than us. She couldn’t be thirty yet.
His eyes never really fell on me. As soon as they wandered in my direction, they’d snap somewhere else. Anywhere else.
“Yeah. Anyway, she asked me to work here, and Mom wanted me to move back, and Mitch had a kid—”
“You’re an uncle?” I interrupted. I couldn’t tell if this word vomit was soothing or overwhelming. At least, he seemed as unsettled by me as I was by him.
“Yeah. Maisey.”
“I love that name.”
“I know.”
Of course, he knew. We’d discussed baby names from time-to-time.
My mind conjuring the image of him scooping up our blue-eyed, red-haired future child in his impossibly gentle hands was always right there as we talked.
Maybe after we moved to East Lansing for his schooling.
Maybe after I started working in environmental conservation. Maybe after he graduated.
Maybe after we learned to actually communicate.
But no.
He had a little Maisey to dote over, and that was at once beautiful and eviscerating.
I was cored out. Husked.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Uh, yeah, she’ll be two in spring. She’s really cute.”
“I bet.” I sounded empty.
“Uh-huh.” Finally, his eyes swept up and down my body as if he was landing back inside of his mind from wherever he’d gone. “What are you doing here?”
“My dog.”
“Right.” He blinked a few times, and I realized he meant in Michigan, but he recovered before I could explain. “Your dog.”
“Furgie.”
He puffed a laugh. “Furry Furg?”
One corner of my mouth twitched. “Sometimes. Usually Furguson. She’s a stately girl.”
“Clearly discerning in her treat of choice.”
Amusement flickered—a tiny flame snuffed out by dark billowy smoke from a larger fire. Years ago, it’d blazed through me, leaving behind soot covered sticks and ashes.
Emotions were shifting too quickly inside of my chest. They must have flashed across my face, because Remi fell back on his heel as if pushed.
Was it my rage at being surprised by him?
The echo of the all-consuming pain dredged to the surface after five years?
Or was it the moment something easy passed between us?
Something that felt more dangerous than all the rest of it.
He stared at my shoes with his mouth open, breathing heavily.
Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked away.
Finally, he said, “So, what’s going on with Furguson?”
My thoughts lagged for a few more moments, before I explained.
Remi lowered to the tile floor, sitting with his back to the wall.
He extended his hand to Furg, welcoming her to smell him.
The movement was so natural. A behavior ingrained in his process, taking his hulking form and becoming a less intimidating version of himself for my dog.
Being exactly the veterinarian he’d always aspired to be.
In a strange out of body like experience, I listed her symptoms. My mouth spoke while my mind worked in multiple streams. There was the repeated mantra of, “What the fuck is happening?” that I was trying to ignore.
And the recollection of my naivete. I’d been just a few minutes ago snickering at the drama I could overhear in the hallway. Former lovers gone sour.
I’d texted Sadie, giggling silently to myself.
Sadie: Is he hot?
Me: I haven’t seen him yet. But this lady is pissed. She is literally screaming.
Sadie: I kind of admire her for it. I could never.
Me: Me either.
Then the door opened and startlingly bright scrubs entered the room. And then his face.
Remi was tender and calming with Furgie.
At the end of the appointment, his eyes flicked up to me then away, again.
Where he couldn’t seem to lay his eyes on me, I couldn’t take mine away from him.
The dusting of reddish blond hair on the back of his hands was a bit thicker.
His jaw was a little wider too. He had the audacity to have a face that had gone from hot to hotter.
His boyish softness replaced with the masculine strength of a grown ass man.
The audacity might have continued on to his body, but that was hard to tell with the distracting swirling nature of his clothes.
God, if I’m noticing him, is he noticing me?
It was such a mind fuck.
I was thicker and softer than I had been. Wrinkles were forming around my eyes and mouth. I was trying to unpack all the societal pressure to never age and not let it be a part of my self-worth. But it was still there.
Did he see all the ways I’d changed?
Don’t care, I ordered myself. Please, don’t care.
It must have only taken a couple of minutes, but it felt like an eternity for him to break the silence in the room.
He gestured to the bright red of Furgie’s stomach.
“It’s an allergy flair. Obviously, she’s in a new environment.
We can give her antibiotics that’ll help with the itching and clear up the rash. And some conditioning spray.”
I jerked forward, just then realizing I’d never taken a seat. I’d stood awkwardly the whole appointment, looming over him like an agitated vulture. “Will it come back?”
He held out a hand, and for a terrifying moment, I thought he might run it down my arm. When it just remained palm out, I might have missed the touch I didn’t get. Because everything inside of me was in turmoil, and there was no way to satisfy any part of me.
“It shouldn’t, but if it does we’ll get her on a daily medicine,” he explained. “We’ll be okay. I’ll get you a prescription for antibiotics. Where would you like it sent?”
His use of the word, we’ll was a bit triggering, but what wasn’t in this nightmare situation? I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll send it to the pharmacy here in town, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Thank you.”
Not long after, I walked through the door he held open.
I had to pass close enough to him to feel the heat coming off his body.
My snow boots squeaked with each step. Furgie’s leash swung into my leg.
It taxed my depleted energy to make eye contact as I paid, but I forced myself to.
The receptionist had large, round brown eyes.
They flicked between me and Remi. It didn’t take sharp intelligence to see that we were both . . . off. But her gaze assessed us.
“Thank you, again,” I struggled to say.
He nodded, his jaw tight.
“Of course, let us know if you need anything else,” she said.
I turned. The lobby floated past me.
When I was in the vestibule, she whispered behind my back, “What happened?”
He didn’t answer.
What did happen?
“Are you okay?” The glass door to the lobby muffled her voice.
I couldn’t see his reaction—if he shook his head, or shrugged, or nodded. I didn’t think he responded verbally. But then there was a loud buzzing in my ears. I couldn’t remember where I put my keys. I patted my coat pockets, dug through my purse, and then did the whole thing again.
Be here somewhere, I silently begged my keys. I cannot go back in there.
My stomach did a sickening back flip as she asked, “You out here just breakin’ hearts?”
But there’d been two sets of hands ripping and pulling our hearts to shreds. Two people too self-righteous to stop our bullshit. Too many cuts to keep us from hemorrhaging.
I was on the other side of it. The side where it didn’t hurt so much anymore. Or I had been before he walked into that examination room. Now I was all turned around.
My heart broken and the memory of falling in love with him given a fresh coat of paint. Graphic. Present.
Falling in love with Remi had been the easy part. It was everything that followed that went totally tits up.
Finally, I found my keys tucked in my coat pocket. They jangled, their teeth biting my fingers, and pushed the exterior door open. The blast of frozen dry air was a welcome relief against my hot face.
His chuckle was bitter and completely void of humor. “Not right now, okay, Nora?”
He sounded as rung out as I felt.