Page 91 of Reclaim Me

“Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I promise her, waving goodbye as she walks out of the kitchen, leaving me to pack up the plates we fixed for Nate. I’m tying up the bag when he finally comes in to retrieve them.

“Heading out?”

“Yep,” Nate says, taking the bag of plates from me. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Thank you for being here, Nate. I appreciate you.”

“Of course.” He scrubs a hand down his face, looking like he wants to say something but doesn’t know if he should. “I’m always here for you; you know that, right?”

My brows pull together as I try to suss out what his tone is about. “Yeah, I know that.”

“And I’m here for Hunter too,” he says, glancing out the window where Hunter is still visible. I look, too, and for a moment, we’re both quiet, watching Hunter pace.

I look away first, focusing on Nate because seeing the stress of the day settled on Hunter’s shoulders is painful for me. “I know you are. He knows it too.”

Nate raises his brows like he’s not so sure. “He hasn’t been to a meeting in months, Rae,” he blurts. “I know you’re both grieving, but he needs to get to one sooner rather than later, do you understand?”

There’s a severity to his tone that I don’t get. I mean, of course I know that going so long without the support found in meetings, and conversations with a sponsor, isn’t a good thing. But Nate is making it sound like Hunter is falling apart, and he’s not. He’s not falling apart. He can’t be because he’s the only thing holding me together.

“I understand, Nate.”

Something in his eyes tells me he doesn’t think I do, but just like everyone else, he chooses not to push, and when he’s gone, I breathe a sigh of relief, happy that silence has found me once again. I sit in that silence until Hunter comes in from the yard. He finds me in the living room, curled up on the couch in my funeral dress.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting down in the chair across from me.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

He slides down into his seat, resting his head on the cushion behind him and closing his eyes. “I’m tired.”

He’s tired a lot lately, which doesn’t make a lot of sense for him. Hunter is the most active, energetic person I know, so the number of times I’ve seen him dozing off and sleeping in over the past few days has been out of character for him. I haven’t minded it because I’ve enjoyed being still with him.

I sit up and go over to him, crawling into his lap. “Me too.”

He runs a hand down my back. “Let’s go to bed.”

The offer is enticing, but I think we’ve spent enough time in bed. I think Nate is right, and maybe we should start trying to get back into a routine. “Or, maybe you should go to a meeting.”

Hunter pops one eye open, his brow arched in offense. “What did you say?”

“I said you should probably go to a meeting. Nate said you haven’t been to one in months?—”

He sits up, and his rigid, defensive posture makes it impossible for me to stay comfortably on his lap, so I slide off, standing awkwardly in front of him while he glares at me.

“Why were you and Nate talking about me?”

“We weren’t talking about you. I mean, it wasn’t like that. He just brought it up, and I thought it could be good for you since it’s been so long.”

Hunter pushes to his feet and lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re right. It has been a long time since I’ve gone to a meeting because it’s hard to make meetings when you’re running back and forth to doctor’s appointments and pharmacies and making a thousand and one phone calls to insurance companies, trying to convince them to pay for medicine your friend needs to live. And you know what makes going to a meeting even harder, Rae?” It’s a rhetorical question because he doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “Knowing that if you do attend one and bring back a single germ it can lead to an infection that will kill the person you are trying so desperately to keep alive.”

My head rears back, and pain radiates through me, sharper and harsher with everything he lists off that he did for Will. That he did for me. The picture he paints is heartbreaking and familiar. Every sacrifice he made for Will and me is one that I made for my mother, but instead of the shared experience making us feel closer to one another, it feels like it’s ripping us apart. Creating a gap in our bond that’s filled with Hunter’s unspoken resentment and my guilt.

“I appreciate everything you did, Hunter,” I murmur, my voice dripping with shame.

God, why didn’t I just come home? Why couldn’t I just show up for Will, and for Hunter? Why couldn’t I be brave and selfless instead of cowering in New York like a helpless little girl?

“I don’t want your appreciation, Rae,” he says, agitation laced in every word as he marches into the kitchen and grabs his keys off the counter. I follow him, confused—not by his anger because I’m angry with myself too—but by the determined set of his jaw as he prepares to walk out on me.

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