Page 10 of Repairing the Wreckage

“Making friends already?” Remy asks but there’s no teasing in his question.

“I think he was worried I was carrying a bomb or something.”

Remy snorts. “More like he was working up the courage to ask for your number.”

I tug on my ratty ponytail. “I doubt that. How’d you find me?”

“The text alert from my credit card for the Uber.” He hands over his phone and I stare at the screen with a map of the airport and a little blinking red dot. “And find my phone. We’re on the same account, remember?”

Damn. I usually just tell Remy where I’m going, I never thought about him using the app to track me down. Or that he’d do it so quickly.

He slides his warm hand over mine and gently asks, “What are you doing here, Molly?”

Tears sting my eyes again. A lump in my throat keeps all my jumbled thoughts inside. I open my mouth once, close it, then try again. “I wanted to start over some place new. Where no one knows me.”

Instead of laughing at my poorly thought-out plan, Remy sucks in a breath.

“You were going to leave me without a word?” Sadness roughens his voice and tugs on my heart. He genuinely seems upset at the thought of losing me. “Not even a goodbye?”

Shame burns my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” This time I can’t stop my tears. Remy pulls me into his arms, shielding me from the curious stares of people walking past us.

“Molly, you’re going to be okay.” Remy rubs a soothing hand over my back. “I know it hurts but it’s not the end of the world. I promise.”

He has no idea how much I hurt. My shoulders ache so bad I can’t even wrap my arms around him to return the hug. “I know,” I sob.

“You’re tough. You’re a fighter just like me. When life tries to knock a Holt down, we get right back up and keep swinging.”

I wince at his choice of words. I came out swinging all right—a baseball bat right into the car Griff gave me and spent so much time and money restoring.

Ugh. Why do I feel so bad about the car? It’s the least of what I should’ve done after being humiliated like that. But I can’t tell Remy what I did. He’ll be disappointed in me. Or send me to a psych ward for an extended vacation.

“Where were you going, anyway?” he asks.

“I can’t afford to go anywhere.” I let out a sad laugh and pull away. “That’s why I’m sitting here on a bench instead of on a plane right now.”

Remy frowns at the reminder that he could’ve arrived too late.

“I don’t want to go home,” I admit. “Everything will remind me of him.”

The enormity of everything I’ve lost rolls over me. No more hanging out at Zips racing cars on the weekend. That’s the first place Griff and I said “I love you” to each other. So many places hold memories of him. Even my own damn house.

“I’ll take a few days off. We can’t go anywhere too exotic,” Remy says. “Jersey Shore for a few days?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to run into Griff’s mom.”

“It’s a big shore, Molly.” He sighs. “We could go up to Maine,” he says with more enthusiasm. “You loved the beaches there when you were little.”

That brings on a wave of fond, Griff-free memories. Holding my mother’s hand as we waded into the water. Jumping waves with Remy. Happier times.

Money’s tight and taking multiple days away from the bar isn’t easy for my brother. I appreciate his offer to indulge my little tantrum more than I can express. “It’s okay.” I squeeze his fingers. “I have to face it sometime, right?”

“We can go to Lake George,” he suggests. He lifts his eyebrows and uses a coaxing tone I haven’t heard since I was eight. “Six Flags for the day. Ride the Steamin’ Demon until you barf Twix bars all over me.”

“One time!” I squeal, socking him in the stomach. “Who fed me all the Twix bars?”

Relief softens his tense expression, and he chuckles. “I paid for it.”

“I felt really bad that I did that to you.”

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