Chapter 24 Wrenley
Wrenley
The words hit like a slap across the face. She’s not laughing. I look at Ruger, silently pleading for some sort of rescue, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. My stomach twists.
What… what do you mean? I say, my voice sharp. The question sounds weak even to my own ears.
You know what I mean, she replies.
I play innocent, shrugging while Ruger just stays the same. He’s straight-faced with his arms crossed, looking at his sister.
Smushed bathing suit parts. Shook the sheets. Put the banana in the fruit salad! You two had sex! she says, more exasperated.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
Her face grows dead serious. That better not have been the start of a lie, Wrenley St. James.
I look down. I’m sorry.
Remi shakes her head. I’m not looking for an apology, she says. I’m wondering what the hell is going on.
What do I say to that?
While Ruger and I have had many discussions, I can’t exactly pinpoint the second I realized that maybe this plan might not go how we originally envisioned. How do I explain something I barely understand myself?
I don’t know, I admit.
You don’t? Remi looks at her brother, who just shrugs.
She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens them again, her eyes are filled with a hurt I knew would come but kept convincing myself I could avoid if I knew what my end goal was.
And I can see it from her perspective. She’s done so much for me, and I stopped talking to her about the trajectory of the life I’m building here. I get that it’s my choice who I let in, but she’s my best friend.
Why did you keep it from me? She asks the same question I’m asking myself.
Because we didn’t know what this was, I say, but the answer sounds weak.
Remi looks at Ruger. Are you going to add anything?
What do you want me to say, Rem? he asks. Sorry for not dragging you through something that’s undefined and might change nothing?
When Ruger says it, it sounds equally as absurd.
Remi lets out an exasperated snort. But it’s not nothing. She looks between us. You’re acting like this is some kind of hypothetical thing that is going to happen someday. But you two had sex, and we all know that sex changes things.
I want to argue. To point out that she’s sleeping with Brandt and hasn’t exactly called a committee meeting over it. Ruger still has no idea that his best friend and sister are… what did she say? Putting the banana in the fruit salad?
But the argument dies before it reaches my lips. This isn’t about what she’s doing. It’s about the knot of guilt in my stomach and my desperate desire to make it go away.
This started as the three of us, and we let it become the two of us and sometimes Remi.
I can’t stop you two from sleeping together.
You’re both adults. But this started because Wrenley needed a fast track into the States for her career.
And I’m worried we’re losing sight of the goal, and someone is going to end up hurt.
She swallows and shakes her head. I don’t want that for either of you.
Ruger lets out a slow breath, and I look down at my hands.
I think I’m going to go, she says after a moment of silence.
I look up. You don’t have to.
I need a little space, she says. To think. This surprised me. That’s all.
She heads toward the door, and I’m immediately following her. I can’t let her leave without her knowing that none of this was meant to hurt her.
Remi! I stumble after her, my heart racing as I head out the door.
She stops at the gate, stiff and trembling. A passerby strolls by, and Remi pastes on a too-bright smile, waving like nothing’s wrong. As soon as they’re gone, she says, Come sit in my truck.
We climb into her truck and sit in silence for a few seconds.
Remi, please, I say. I never meant for this secret to hurt you.
I’m not upset because you were keeping something from me, she says. I wish that were the issue because that would be so much easier to get past. I’m… scared. For you. For us. For our friendship.
I blink. That is not what I was expecting her to say.
Why?
She looks at me. Wren, you want big things for your life. And you should. You should dream big and run after those dreams because we only get to do this once.
I give a little smile. I’ve always loved Remi’s determination and the way she throws herself at life with her full chest.
And if Ruger is that dream, then great. Go to him.
My heart skips a beat.
But if he’s not… She trails off, searching for the words. If Alaska isn’t where you want to build your life, then you need to be honest with yourself before this goes any further.
Do you think I’m using him to quell a need or something?
No. She shakes her head immediately. I think people catch feelings and convince themselves they can make the impossible work.
The truck goes quiet as her words hang between us.
Ruger’s never leaving here, she says softly.
And you spent the majority of your adult life placating a man and his wants, completely forgetting about your own.
I don’t want you to do that again. You’re not the first person I’ve watched do that, and I don’t want to be a casualty in another one of my brother’s failed relationships.
I blink as understanding washes over me.
Ruger’s ex was your friend, I say.
Remi nods. Her name is Aurora, and we were best friends all through high school. Were being the operative word.
Remi—
I can’t let that be us, she says, a fire in her eyes beneath the hurt. I can’t lose another friend because the people I love are pulling in two different directions. I just can’t, Wren. Please.
My chest tightens as I reach across the console and pull Remi into a hug. For a second, she goes rigid, and then she breaks. Her arms come around me, holding me tight, and I feel the dampness of her tears through my shirt.
Hey, I say. You’re not going to lose me.
She doesn’t say anything, only buries her face deeper in my shoulder. I realize this isn’t entirely about me and Ruger, but also that there is still grief from losing a friend she thought would be in her life forever.
She pulls back and wipes at her face. That was embarrassing. She sniffles.
You don’t have to be embarrassed about being human, I say.
Yes I do. She squares her shoulders. I have a reputation to maintain.
I roll my eyes and laugh.
I came by to see if we could grab a coffee, and then I’d bring you to the shop, she says.
I’d love that, I say. Let me grab my stuff.
She nods, and I slip out of the truck.
Inside, Ruger is in the kitchen, scraping his plate into the garbage. My own half-eaten breakfast sits on the counter, but my appetite’s gone.
Everything alright? he asks, leaning against the counter like he’s bracing for impact.
A few hours ago, I was pressed up against him.
Hell, he was inside me. That was all that mattered.
Now, I can’t stop thinking about what Remi said about him never leaving.
I knew that, obviously, and I have always admired his conviction about Alpine Harbor being his place.
Now, that simple fact feels like it matters more than it did before.
Like Remi confirming what I already knew somehow solidified it in my mind in a way it wasn’t before.
Wren?
I blink and realize he’s still waiting for an answer.
She’s worried, I say.
His jaw tightens. About us?
About what happens next, I answer. About… history repeating itself.
Ruger blows out a breath. So she told you they were friends?
I nod.
The world doesn’t talk enough about the ending of friendships.
About how losing a friend can be as every bit as painful as losing a partner, only with far less understanding from the people around you.
When a relationship ends, everyone recognizes it as a loss.
They expect tears and heartbreak and months of trying to refigure your life.
But when a friendship ends, especially if there is no explosion, people seem to assume that the empty space can simply be filled by someone else.
As though meaningful friendships are interchangeable.
Sitting with Remi this morning, watching her fight tears over a friendship that ended years ago, I realize just how deep that wound still runs.
It doesn’t negate what she and I share. It’s just a simple fact that some people leave spaces behind that remain their shape forever.
She thinks we’re headed toward the same ending.
Ruger nods but doesn’t say anything.
Are we? I ask.
I don’t know, he answers honestly. I think all we can do is what we’re doing. Be honest with each other. Be honest about what we want when we know what that is.
I bite my lower lip. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel like enough.
He takes a step toward me. I don’t know what our lives look like a year from now. I don’t know if we’ll figure everything out or if we’re heading toward a wall we can’t see yet.
A knot forms in my throat as he keeps walking toward me.
But I know how I feel about you, he continues. And I know pretending that doesn’t exist isn’t going to make any of this easier.
He stops in front of me, and there’s barely any space between us.
My heart thumps hard against my chest as I look up at him.
On the one hand, the fear Remi planted in my mind is still there, lingering on the edges of my thoughts.
On the other is the man standing in front of me, refusing to make promises he can’t keep, and that level of honesty means everything to me. I can’t walk away from that.
Not yet.
I know how I feel about you too, I whisper.
Good, he murmurs, then leans down and plants a kiss on my lips.