Page 48 of Under the Mistle-Foe

“I’ve always wanted to chat with you since coming back, but it seems the timing never matched up. But it’s great to finally see you in person after texting all these years,” Remy said.

Ford naturally looked confused by Remy’s statement, but thankfully, he also looked distracted and just nodded. He glanced at something over Remy’s shoulder.

I didn’t have time to worry about what Ford was thinking. A chill went down my spine at Remy’s words and had me sprinting into action again. “Babe, can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

I knew I was playing dirty by calling himbabeat this moment, but I was desperate. And just as I’d expected, Remy got all soft under the term of endearment and agreed without question.

“I’ll catch you later, Ford. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Thanks, you too,” Ford said absentmindedly. He was already pushing past the crowd toward a certain direction, but I was too busy dragging Remy out of the pub to see his destination.

Thank god I had the foresight to grab our coats first because the night air was so freezing that I had half a mind to go back inside. But I didn’t want an audience when I’d confessed to Remy. It was already embarrassing enough.

Remy wrapped me in his arms and rubbed my back to help generate some warmth.

How was this man so fucking sweet? It made me feel bad for tricking him, though I didn’t regret what I did. I just wished I’d told him when things had gotten better between us.

“What did you want to talk about?” Remy prompted, and I knew I couldn’t hide it any longer.

“There’s something I need to tell you. I know you’ll be angry, but please know I did this out of good intentions,” Ipleaded, gripping his clothes tightly to keep us close together.

Remy softly chuckled at my action and clasped his warm hand to my cheek. “What is it?”

“Well, you know how you’ve been texting Ford these past five years?”

“Yeah?” His soft expression turned into confusion.

“It was never Ford. I used his name because I thought you wouldn’t reply if I texted you under my name. I used to see him around the diner when we were in high school, so I figured it wouldn’t be too weird if he texted you after you left. He doesn’t know anything about this,” I blurted out all at once before I chickened out.

Remy just stared at me, blinking with obvious confusion in his eyes. After a minute of silence from the man, I was worried he was astronomically pissed.

“Say something,” I begged when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“So you’re saying you…catfished me?” he stated. I was shocked by that phrasing, but I guess it was true, so I nodded. Remy busted out in laughter. He laughed so hard it shocked the people who had just walked out of the pub.

I gave him puppy-dog eyes as I watched him. I was glad it seemed like he wasn’t angry, but I didn’t know how I felt about being laughed at either.

Remy must have seen my expression since he calmed down, wiping the stray tear that trickled from the corner of his eye. I frowned at the fact that he’d laughed hard enough for tears to leak.

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” Remy cleared his throat, kissed my frown away, then said, “That was just the last thing I expected to hear.”

“I should be the one saying sorry. I didn’t mean to keep this farce up for so long.”

“So would you have told me if we hadn’t run into Ford?” he asked with a brow raised.

I immediately nodded. “I was going to tell you after we became friends, but I kept chickening out…I’m sorry.”

In the beginning, I thought I would send him a quick message to check up on him, then never hear from him again. Then this little farce wouldn’t have needed to be exposed at all. He had no plans on returning to Christmas Falls back then either anyway.

I never expected our text conversations to go on this long. Sure, Remy thought I was Ford the entire time, but I didn’t want to let go of this last connection with him. I was greedy to hear about his life, even if I wasn’t a part of it.

Remy chuckled again. His hand slid to the back of my neck and tickled the soft hairs there. “But I’m confused. I have your phone number and it’s different from the one I have saved forFord.”

“I used a virtual number to text you,” I said sheepishly. “I was worried you’d recognize my number and directly block me.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “I really might have done that. But why the insistence on texting me? We weren’t even friends back then.”

“You’d just lost your mom and had left for the big city all by yourself. I just didn’t want you to feel…alone,” I admitted.

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