Page 97 of Reclaim Me

I press my lips together, certain he can’t really be asking for a number. He can’t actually want to know how many times I told myself we’d stop only to find myself climbing on top of Hunter again or letting him hike my leg up as he slid into me from behind. There were too many times to count, so I didn’t try.

“Before last night, we’d never…” My jaw clenches as shame digs its way through me. “When I left this morning, I told him it couldn’t happen again.” A wave of nausea lays claim to my stomach, and I don’t know if it’s because my body is physically rejecting the thought of never having Hunter again or just the stress of the situation. Whatever the reason, I find myself swallowing down bile as Aaron stares at me like he doesn’t know who I am. “I’m so sorry. I know that I’ve hurt you, and I understand if you can’t forgive me. I don’t know if I’d be able to forgive me either.”

With nothing more to say, I start to head toward the door, but as I move past Aaron he grabs my hand and stops me.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I just thought maybe you wanted some space. Riley and I can go stay with Jayla and?—”

“No.” He shakes his head, still holding my hand. “I don’t want you to leave, Rae.”

“You don’t?”

“No, but I do want you to promise me something.”

Aaron and I both know that at this moment in time, there’s nothing I wouldn’t promise him. That’s the funny thing about guilt, when it’s strong enough, when it’s potent enough, you’ll do anything to get rid of it. You’ll say anything. You’ll do anything. You’ll promise anything, even things you probably shouldn’t.

There’s an odd glint to Aaron’s eyes as he considers me, as he waits for me to fold to his blank check of a demand. I swallow past the lump in my throat that’s telling me not to make promises to a man I’ve just scorned and surrender to the part of me that feels like I owe him this because while he’s been a lot of things over the past few months—petty, childish and insecure—he hasn’t been unfaithful.

But I have.

“Anything.”

He smiles—it’s a small one, so faint it’s just a ghost on his lips—and then brings his hand to my cheek, running a finger over my jawline and to my lips. “I can forgive you this one transgression.” I push out a small, relieved breath, and the smile becomes real this time. “But,” he continues, “this fuck up means things are about to change with you and Hunter’s cozy little co-parenting situation. From here on out, I’m involved in every conversation and present for every visit.”

“Aaron—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a finger on my lips.

“If you want to gain back my trust, you’ll do this for me. And as long as things remain respectful, we won’t have a problem. I won’t speak to him. He won’t speak to me or step foot in my house again. If Riley wants to spend time at his place, you’re going to have to figure out a way for her to do that without you.”

“That won’t be a problem. Hunter and I already agreed that she could do visits with him every weekend.”

“Good. We can do drop-offs together, and then we can spend our free time reconnecting, figuring out where things went wrong so we can fix them and get our relationship back on track.” He runs his finger back and forth across my bottom lip. “I love you so much, Rachel. I know that we can get past this.”

36

HUNTER

Then

“Look who’s awake,” a voice from the far side of the room says, way too cheerful and loud for the throbbing happening at the back of my skull and the rolling wave of nausea in my stomach.

I’m barely awake.

And by barely, I mean I’ve just cracked a single eye open because when I slipped into consciousness, I couldn’t figure out what the beeping sound that woke me was. Now, I know that beeping is coming from the monitor that keeps track of the amount of liquid in the IV bag that’s dripping fluids meant to support hydration into my body.

I’m in the hospital.

The last thing I remember is being in the bathroom at the house, using the hour I knew it would take Rae at the store to get myself back right. I turned the shower on because I wanted to have an excuse to be in the bathroom if she came home early, but I didn’t bother to get undressed, so I guess I wasn’t too committed to the lie. Not that it would have taken much to convince her. After I flipped out on her the night of Will’s funeral, she stopped pushing. She stopped asking follow-up questions if things don’t make sense, and a lot of things don’t make sense anymore because I’m falling apart, and I’m tearing us up in the process.

Fuck. I try to sit up, my brain finally realizing that if I’m in the hospital, I must have done more than take the edge off, and there’s only one person who could have found me, so now I need to explain. Now I need to fix it.

“Don’t try to sit up, Mr. Drake,” the nurse says, coming into view. She’s a young, Black girl with a friendly face and more strength in her one hand than I apparently possess in my whole body. She forces me back down to the thin mattress without exerting much effort, and I go easily because my body is heavy and I’m so tired.

“Where’s Rae?” I ask, glancing around the room for any signs of her and coming up empty. The scent of her perfume is absent from the air.

“Who?” The nurse—Carla, according to the badge clipped to her chest—asks. I frown up at her as she pulls the stethoscope from around her neck, preparing to listen to my broken heart.

“Rae,” I repeat. “My girlfriend. Where is she?”

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