Chapter 17 Ruger
Ruger
I thought seeing Wrenley’s nipples would be the highlight of this trip.
They are perfect. Dark, erect, and I want to taste them.
If it hadn’t been for the way my cock stiffened on sight, I wouldn’t have said a damn thing.
Just sat there and kept enjoying the view.
Somehow, today trumped that. When she stepped out in that final dress, I couldn’t look away.
No words could do justice to how perfect she looked.
Or maybe there’s one. Mine.
She looked like mine. My wife.
But she’s not. Not really anyway. And no matter how beautiful she looks on our wedding day, that fact won’t change.
Wrenley’s current visa is just the beginning.
There’ll be green card paperwork, lawyers’ fees, the cost of the card itself, not to mention simply living in the north, where everything costs just a little bit more.
There’s no money for a wedding dress, let alone one that costs half a down payment on a house.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to scrub the image of her in that dress out of my head.
It doesn’t work. I can still see how she looked.
Still feel how I felt. As I blot my beard dry, there’s a knock on my door.
My heart starts picking up its pace. The last time someone knocked on my hotel room door, it was her.
Even though I know better, I hope it’s her again. I open the door, but it’s not Wrenley.
Remi brushes past me like a storm front. We need to talk.
I scan the hallway just in case, but Wrenley’s nowhere in sight.
I sigh and close the door. Okay. Talk.
Remi plants herself in the middle of the room, arms crossed. What’s going on with you?
I blink. Nothing?
She takes a steadying breath. I asked if you’d tell me if anything changed.
I believe you said if it got to be too much, I say, but the look in her eyes tells me she doesn’t want to argue over semantics. Nothing has changed, Remi. I’m still in this one hundred percent.
You’re into Wrenley.
My gut tightens. I school my face before it gives me away. What are you talking about?
Come on, don’t play dumb, Remi says. I saw the way you were looking at her.
I’m screwed, and I know it, because the worry on my sister’s face speaks louder than anything she could ever say.
Please, she says. Don’t do this again. Don’t go after my best friend.
I want to protest, to remind her that this was her idea.
I can’t, though. Not when we were all part of setting boundaries in the beginning.
But I find myself wondering if these were ever boundaries at all.
Boundaries are meant to stop you from crossing a line, whereas all we agreed on was that this was simply a solution to a problem.
It can still be a solution while also being something more.
So have the rules changed or just the circumstances?
If I were, I say carefully, thinking of every word before I say it, I wouldn’t hurt her.
Remi scoffs and shakes her head. That’s hard to believe, considering your last relationship ended with you moving back to Alpine Harbor and sending her an email letting her know it was over.
Worse, you didn’t even say why, she continues.
And I dealt with it. I listened to her sobbing weeks—God, probably months.
It wasn’t that long—
She was sweet, kind, beautiful, and you tossed her aside like an old sweater you outgrew.
That’s not fair—
Isn’t it?
I have no defense against her question. At twenty-three, I convinced myself I was doing the right thing.
I was miserable in Anchorage; she was miserable knowing she’d never get to New York with me by her side.
I thought that putting physical distance between us would make it easier.
Looking back, I can see how selfish that was.
I didn’t do it to protect her; I did it to protect me.
I made a decision and disappeared, giving her no opportunity to have a conversation or get some kind of closure on our relationship.
Remi closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath.
I didn’t say anything when you and Aurora started dating in high school.
And I don’t blame you for the end of our friendship.
Aurora made that choice. She decided it was too hard to stay close to me after the breakup, and as much as it hurt, I understood why.
She opens her eyes and looks at me. That doesn’t mean I want to watch history repeat itself.
I know my breakup didn’t just affect me.
I think part of the reason I couldn’t face Aurora afterward was because I knew she wouldn’t be the only one looking for answers.
Nothing about a breakup exists in a vacuum.
There are friends and family caught in the middle, and in our case, they overlapped in Remi.
It felt easier to face Remi’s anger than Aurora’s pain.
I was too young to realize that my sister’s anger would mask her own heartbreak.
But even though I know she’s right, I can’t seem to stop wanting Wrenley.
I didn’t plan for this, Rem.
You’re playing with someone who is relying on you for immigration paperwork, Ruger. Her voice sharpens. Do you think that’s a healthy set-up for a relationship?
Nothing has changed, I say. I’m still going to marry her for her career. I’m still going to divorce her. And I’ll help however I can every step of the way.
Remi still looks unconvinced, and I can’t blame her.
You promise you won’t fuck this up? she asks.
I cross an X over my heart. I swear, Rem.
She breathes out, slow and shaky, then nods. Okay.
So, you’re still okay if I take her out tomorrow? I ask.
She thinks about this for a few seconds before saying, Just don’t do anything stupid that blurs the lines. Wrenley has bigger plans than Alpine Harbor will ever give her, and it will just end in heartbreak. She holds my gaze. I don’t want to be in the middle again.
I nod. You won’t.
The words sound certain, but I’m not entirely sure I believe them.
Her phone chimes, and she checks it. It’s Wrenley. She has our wine.
Remi heads toward the door, but I stop her. Rem?
She looks back at me.
Are you… are you going to tell her?
There’s a pause just long enough to make my heart pound a little harder, and then she slowly shakes her head. No, Ruger. I’m not going to tell her.
Relief washes over me. I’m not ready for her to know.
I’m too scared it will spook her and she’ll leave, and I can’t let that happen.
Not now that I know the truth about her ex.
I can’t let her leave Alaska without her having everything she needs to have a good life in this country.
And I will make sure of that, no matter what it costs me.
But not for your sake, Remi adds. It’s because this is already complicated. She doesn’t need one more thing.
I nod. Right. Well. Good night, Remi.
Good night.
And just like that, she’s gone, leaving me alone with too many thoughts and no clear way forward.