Page 99 of Reclaim Me

I nearly jump out of my skin when Dee’s voice breaks into my thoughts. She’s got her face damn near plastered to my passenger window, but she’s still yelling to make sure that I heard her.

“Jesus!” I shout while she clutches her sides and laughs at my expense. I’m not someone who is usually caught off guard, so I’m sure she’s getting a kick out of sneaking up on me. To further annoy me, she pulls at the door handle until I unlock it and allow her in.

“You’ve gotta pay attention to your surroundings,” she chides, wagging a finger at me before turning her gaze to the flowers. I watch her eyes get round as she scoops them up out of the seat. “These are gorgeous, Hunter. Rae’s going to love them.”

Before I can say a word, she’s got the flowers out of the car and is bumping the door closed with her hip. I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as I cut the engine and follow her inside the building. Dee has been back in New Haven for a week, and she’s already managed to work every one of my last nerves.

Thanks to this new co-parenting arrangement where Rae uses everyone and everything to act as a buffer between us, I’ve seen more of Dee than I did when she used to practically live at my house. When I call Rae, she picks up the phone. When Rae brings Riley to the house to drop her off for the weekend, Dee is in the car. I love the girl, but I’m sick of looking at her.

“Who said they’re for Rae?” I ask, hitting a jog to catch up with her. She tosses an incredulous look over her shoulder.

“Who else would they be for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe my daughter?”

Dee sets the vase, which is bigger than Riley, on the reception desk and plucks the card free. I wasn’t going to get one, but I decided to just in case I changed my mind about coming in and opted to drop the flowers off in lieu of conversation.

“To everything you are and everything you’ll become,” Dee says loudly, reading the words off with an annoyingly dramatic flourish. “Congratulations, Sunshine.” She taps the card on her chin. “Remind me, when did you start calling Riley ‘Sunshine’?”

I grimace at her. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nope. I’ve got all sorts of free time on my hands these days.”

“Don’t tell me they finally revoked your license because they realized you should be on the other side of the doctor/patient dynamic.”

She flips me off. “There’s nothing wrong with therapists being in therapy. In fact, that’s the way it should be.”

“True.” I glance around, having lost all interest in the conversation, and my heart swells with pride as I take in the space. It’s been completely transformed, and I’m dying to know if it’s everything Rae wants it to be.

“She’s in the back,” Dee tells me, picking up the vase again and putting it in my hands. “Go and give her these. She’ll love them.”

Accepting that Dee is not going to let me out of here without seeing Rae, I take the flowers and head down the hall, going all the way to the end, where Rae’s office is. Her door is open, but I still knock, not wanting to catch her off guard when she’s clearly not all that comfortable being in a room alone with me.

“Come in,” she calls without looking up from the papers on her desk. Once again, I feel that shock of pride roll through me.

“You’re really doing it,” I blurt, unable to keep the words in. Rae’s head snaps up, and she shoots to her feet, the picture of elegance with her hair pulled back into a slick bun and a sage green pantsuit on. It’s got three pieces: a form-fitting corset that hugs her breasts and allows her to flaunt her toned stomach, an oversized blazer that hangs open and stops at the top of her thigh, showing off the pleated waist.

All of her jewelry is gold, reminding me of the band of the engagement ring I bought for her all those years ago. I still have it. I hope one day soon I’ll be able to give it to her. That reality only happens if I say what I’ve come here to say, though, so I can’t lose my nerve. I can’t let the wall I helped her rebuild between us continue to stand.

“Hunter.” She smooths a hand down her legs even though she looks perfect. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

For a moment, we just stand there and look at each other. And it feels like it did when she first came back to New Haven. When we didn’t know what to do with the charged air around us, so we just stood around, hoping the tension would dissipate.

It didn’t then, and it doesn’t now.

“These are for you,” I tell her, advancing on her slowly to place the vase on the corner of her desk. Once it’s settled, I step back, aware of the way Rae doesn’t breathe until I’m out of her orbit.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome.”

Rae holds my face in her gaze. It feels like it’s been years since she’s looked at me when in reality, it’s only been weeks. It doesn’t matter because it’s been too long.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not a question or an accusation. Just an observation. Just a solid truth she can’t deny even though she looks like she wants to.

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