Page 92 of Reclaim Me

He’s never walked out on me. He’s always been the person standing by my side, holding my hand, offering love and support. I look for any traces of that man in the one standing in front of me and come up empty.

“Then what do you want?”

Hunter rounds on me, clutching the keys in his hands with wild eyes. “I want you and Nate and everybody else to get off my back! That’s what I want. Is that too much to ask for?!”

He’s yelling now, and I’m standing there in shock, unable to remember a single time when Hunter has ever raised his voice at me. This night is filled with ugly, painful firsts that I don’t want with him.

“No.” My chin wobbles as he stalks toward the door. “What are you doing?” I ask, even though it’s clear. “Where are you going?” He remains silent as he places a hand on the doorknob, causing my heart to twist in on itself. Fresh tears have started to fall, but Hunter is unmoved. Maybe he doesn’t see them. Maybe he can’t see them through the haze of red he’s viewing me through. “Please don’t leave.”

My voice breaks on the last word, but it’s not enough to stop him. And the last thing I see before he walks out the door—leaving me alone with my grief, sadness and self-loathing—is his eyes that tell me he can’t grant my request because I’ve already asked him for too much.

34

RAE

Then

“Maybe you should go back home,” Dee says, frowning at me through the phone. “You look miserable.”

“Thanks, Dee.” I manage to laugh even though the last thing I feel is amused.

“I mean, you’re beautiful, of course,” she says, strolling through the aisles of the grocery store. “But you don’t smile anymore, Rae.”

I lean my head back against the headrest of Hunter’s truck and give her a sad smile. “Zoila said the same thing.”

Everybody has been saying it to me lately, and I haven’t been able to argue back or even take offense because it’s true. I don’t smile anymore. I don’t laugh anymore. All I do is cry and try to figure out why Hunter and I can’t seem to get along. All I do is sit around with my stomach in knots, grieving the loss of my brother and the apparent end of my relationship, wondering how everything fell apart so quickly.

“Well, when you’ve got two of your friends saying it, it’s got to be true.”

“I guess.”

“Where have you been?” She asks, adding several pieces of fruit to the basket hanging from her arm. “Or, where are you going?”

“Same place you are now,” I tell her. “I’m going to make dinner for Hunter.”

Dee pulls a face but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. I know that she’s not a fan of Hunter right now. She’s mad at him for spending all of his time at the gym when I’ve been home alone. I’ve defended his choice, reminding her that he took a lot of time off when he was taking care of Will, even though it hurts that I see him less now than I did when I was in New York.

“Toothpaste, air freshener, tampons,” Dee mutters under her breath, repeating the list of random items over and over again until they’re stuck in my head.

“Why don’t you just make a list?”

“Because I have a system and it works for me.”

“Sure, that’s why you just walked past the aisle with the tampons on it without picking any up.”

“Shit.” She turns around, nearly running into someone as she does. “Damn, why are they always out of super plus?”

I open my mouth to make a joke about her heavy flow but stop short when the image of the box of tampons in Dee’s hand makes me think about how I haven’t bought any since I’ve been back in New Haven. Usually, Dee and I start our periods just a few days apart, with me starting first, and if she’s buying tampons now then that means I’m late.

Shit.

My mind is suddenly flooded with images of Hunter and me on the night I came back to town. Him, insisting on a condom. Me, telling him not to stop. That was over two weeks ago, and now I’m late.

“Dee, I’m late.”

“Late? You got a certain time you need to have dinner on the table?”

“No.” I cut the engine and grab my purse, hopping out of the truck. “Late like, my period is late.”

---