Page 71 of Reclaim Me

With nothing more to say, I step around the open dishwasher and head for the stairs. Aaron doesn’t make a move to stop me, and for that much, I’m grateful. I head straight to my room, lock the door, and get undressed on my way to the bathroom, knowing that a hot, steamy shower will help settle my nerves.

It does.

Once I’m clean and moisturized, I curl up on my side of the bed and grab my phone off the nightstand where I left it charging before dinner. I have a missed call from Dee and a few texts from Jayla, but the notifications that get my attention are from Hunter. There are several texts and a phone call that came in about thirty minutes ago. I open our text thread first and smile at the pictures he’s sent along with message that says ‘which one?’

My heart squeezes, compressed by emotions I don’t fully understand. While I was downstairs arguing with Aaron, this man was at the store buying decorations for Riley’s room. I let out a laugh that’s part sob as I picture him, big and imposing in the aisles among all things pink, white, and frilly, excited about creating a space for our daughter in his home and needing a little bit of guidance from me. I feel bad about not being there for him, and as I dial his number, I lie and tell myself that I’m calling instead of texting, so I can give him a genuine apology for leaving him hanging, not because I’m hoping the gentle growl of his voice will soothe away the last of the tension in my body.

“Sunshine,” he says, picking up on the first ring. “You good?”

I bite my lip, forcing back the sudden rush of tears clogging my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Hunter is quiet. His silence calls me a liar even though he won’t. “I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. What’d you end up choosing?”

“It’s okay. In the end, I didn’t make any choices because your daughter made them all for me. She told me she wanted the unicorn comforter, matching PJs, and instructed me on which snacks to buy for her and you.”

My brow furrows. “You talked to Ri?” She should have been asleep, not on the phone, helping Hunter prepare for our visit.

“Yeah, she called me.” Even though it’s a complete sentence, a fully formed thought, I get the sense that there’s something more Hunter wants to add.

Flipping over onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering if I want to know what he’s leaving out. “What aren’t you saying?”

Hunter clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “She called me because she couldn’t sleep. She said she could hear you and Aaron arguing, and she was worried that it was all her fault.”

All at once, my heart breaks into a thousand little pieces, and the pain is enough to set the tears I’ve been holding back free. I’ve never wanted to be the kind of parent who subjected their child to loud, angry arguments. Before we moved back to New Haven, Aaron and I never had them. We never argued at all, but now that’s all we ever seem to do. The thought that Riley feels responsible for it makes me feel sick to my stomach.

There’s a desperate whimper pushing its way out of my mouth, proceeding my question. “What did you tell her?”

My face is hot, flushed with embarrassment, even though there’s no judgment in Hunter’s voice when he responds. “I told her grown-up problems belong to grown-ups, and they’re never, ever the kid’s fault.”

When the dam inside me breaks, sending the tears I’ve been holding back out in hot, fat drops that roll down my cheeks and into my ears, I know it’s time to hang up.

“Thank you for reassuring her,” I shutter, hating how fucking broken I sound.

“Sunshine—” Hunter starts, his voice all gentle concern and comfort I can’t let myself have right now.

“Goodnight, Hunter.”

I end the call and toss the phone onto my nightstand before rolling out of bed and going to check on Riley. Her bedroom door is closed, so I push it open gently, hoping she’s not still up worrying about me. When I see her curled into a tight little ball in the middle of the bed, I breathe a sigh of relief and pull the door closed, returning to my own room to play an unhelpful game of what if.

What if I didn’t run?

What if Hunter hadn’t relapsed?

What if, what if, what if.

26

HUNTER

Now

“You sure you got everything you need?” I ask Taurin, hovering outside his door as he packs his bag. “Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant? You’re going to be doing a lot of walking; you don’t want to smell.”

“Hey, Hunter?” He zips up his bag, turning to face me with serious eyes.

I step forward, worried that he’s about to get emotional or tell me that he doesn’t want to go. While it’d throw a definite wrench in my plans for the weekend, I’m confident that I could come up with a solution that would keep Taurin safe and not make Rae rethink agreeing to this overnight.

“Yeah, T?”

“I’ve got this,” he says, his voice confident and shoulders square. “Stop worrying about me and focus on you.”

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