Page 95 of Reclaim Me

Maybe it’s because I’ve already gone through the gauntlet of emotions this morning or because I didn’t get much sleep last night, but something about Hunter including me in that promise sends panic bubbling up in my chest. The memories of the last time he attached his sobriety to me are so fresh in my mind, and I don’t get how they’re not fresh in Hunter’s, how he can even say that when he has first hand knowledge of how terribly things went the last time he tried to be everything for me.

Once the panic begins, the reality of what I’ve done, what we’ve done, starts to sink in. When I left Hunter, I did it because I knew that I had to choose Riley, that I had to put her first in this life the way my mom put me first. And since he’s come back in her life, I’ve put their bond ahead of everything else, knowing that Hunter would do the same, that if he focused on her, he wouldn’t be in danger of breaking under the weight of our ill-fated love. But last night, for the first time since I became a mom, I put myself ahead of my daughter. I let freshly unearthed emotions and startling desire take over, fooling me into forgetting that this weekend was supposed to be about acclimating Riley into Hunter’s world, not seeing if there is still a spot for me in it.

I step back, breaking Hunter’s hold on me, and shake my head. “Just Riley.”

“What?”

“You said you’re going to be good for Riley and for me, but I’m not a part of that equation, Hunter. I can’t be. The only considerations you have to make for me are from a co-parenting standpoint, nothing else.”

His gaze wanders over to the bed, to the rumpled sheets that call me a liar, and then back to my face. Both of his brows are furrowed, and he’s making that face that makes him look the most like Riley while his eyes pour out love and hope and desire for the stolen moments we shared in that bed to come out in the open, for the I love you’s we exchanged to go from hidden secrets to kept promises lived out in the open.

“Rae, we just?—”

“I know.” I press my lips together, nodding. “I know what we did, and it was stupid. It was a mistake. And I mean, that’s us isn’t it? We get together, and we do stupid, reckless things. We put everything at risk, and we can’t do that anymore, Hunter. We have a daughter to consider. You have your sobriety to protect and Taurin to take care of, and I have?—”

Aaron’s name gets trapped in my throat, and I feel myself crumbling as I attempt to resurrect the wall I’ve worked so hard to keep between us, using nothing but my bare, shaking hands and the fragments of the bricks we shattered with every kiss and touch we traded last night. Hunter watches me as I struggle, and there’s pain in his eyes that radiates through me when he decides to help.

“Aaron,” he says, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he uses the word to slide the final brick back into place. I can see his face through the gaping holes and jagged lines of the ruined wall, can smell his hurt lingering in the air, dancing along the edges of the scent of dust and construction debris. “You have Aaron.”

“Yes. I have Aaron.” My teeth plunge into my bottom lip, and Hunter just stares at me. His silence disconcerting, his pain unnerving. “I wish it could be different,” I tell him. “I wish I could put it all behind me. Maybe then?—”

I stop myself because I don’t know where I was going with that thought. Because Hunter doesn’t look like he wants to hear it. Because neither of us believe a single word I’ve said anyway.

Riley and I get home around one in the afternoon, and Aaron meets us at the door. I’m surprised to see him because in our very brief conversation yesterday, he told me he wouldn’t be home until the early evening. What’s even more surprising than his presence, are the bouquets of flowers he has in his hand.

“My girls are finally home,” he says, dropping to his knee to present a bunch of sunflowers to Riley with a dramatic flourish. “I missed you, Riley girl!”

Riley takes the flowers, her eyes wide with excitement. “These are pretty!”

“Say thank you, Ri,” I remind her, correcting her lack of manners but saying nothing about her not returning Aaron’s sentiment about missing her because she probably didn’t miss him. She probably didn’t think of him at all when she was with her dad, and that’s okay.

I wasn’t thinking of him either, but that’s not okay.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

“You’re welcome. If you take them to the kitchen, I’m sure Ms. Marcy would be happy to help you put them in some water.”

Riley looks at me for approval, and I nod. “Just set your bag on the bench and take off your shoes.”

She’s gone in a second, running through the house yelling for Marcy. I hear Aaron’s mom respond, kicking off the conversation with a compliment on Riley’s dress and saying nothing about the running and yelling, even though I know she hates when Riley does both. Then I look at Aaron and his big, grand smile and wonder if I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.

“These are for you,” he says, handing me a large vase filled with red roses. It doesn’t escape my notice that my flowers are already in water, and Riley’s were not. It was a subtle way to distract her and carve out some alone time with me.

I take them, wincing slightly when our fingers touch in the exchange because after a night in Hunter’s arms, anything else feels wrong. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Aaron studies my face and frowns. “Are you okay? You look tired.”

My cheeks heat. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long weekend.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it while you take a bath,” he says, taking my duffel bag and purse from my shoulder and slinging them over his own before linking our fingers together.

“Oh, um, a bath sounds nice, but I need to do laundry and get started on Riley’s hair.”

“We have plenty of time for that, babe, right now I just want a moment alone with you. Is that okay?”

After a weekend of excitement, I’m dying to get Riley back into the groove of our Sunday routine, but I don’t feel like I can say no when Aaron is being so sweet and I feel this guilty.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

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