Page 139 of That's Too Pucking Bad

I sip as they chat about flights and packing. My attention drifts to the decorations— photos pinned to a wall, mostly of Maya with friends and family. Streamers in gold and black. A “Bon Voyage” banner over the kitchen.

It’s a good party. But I’m restless.

Then, the air shifts.

I don’t even see her at first—I justknow.

When I turn, she’s walking in.

Remy.

She’s wearing a simple green dress that stops just above her knees, showing off her legs. Her glasses— those round frames she always pushes up her nose— catch the light. Her hair’s loose around her shoulders, and she’s clutching her bag like she’s not sure if she should stay.

For a second, I think I’m imagining her.

She spots me, and her gaze locks on mine.

I can’t move.

Then she’s walking toward me, threading through the crowd like she’s got a mission.

“Hi,” she says when she stops in front of me. Her voice is calm, steady.

I blink at her. “Hey.”

“Can we talk?”

I nod, dumbly, and gesture toward the door.

Outside, the air’s cooler, quieter. There’s a small patio with string lights and a couple of chairs, but we stand just off to the side.

I don’t even know where to start.

She beats me to it. “Maya came to see me.”

That pulls me up short. “She did?”

“She told me everything, Zane.” Her eyes search mine. “About your dad. About the garage. About…” She gestures vaguely, like the rest of the words are too big to say.

I swallow hard. “Remy, I—”

“No, let me finish.” She crosses her arms, but it’s not defensive. It’s like she’s trying to hold herself together. “I thought… I thought you were just like him. Your dad. Meddling, controlling. I thought you saw me as some charity case.”

“No.” The words burst out of me. “You were never that.”

She nods, slowly. “I know that now. But it’s taken me time to figure it out.”

I step closer, hesitant. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Remy. I swear. I know I can be controlling, manipulating, possessive… I know I fucked everything up.”

“You did fuck everything up,” she says, but there’s no bite in it. Just… honesty.

“I know.”

Her gaze drops to the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me? About your dad cutting you off? About the garage?”

I laugh, bitterly. “What was I supposed to say?”

She stares at me, and I can’t read her expression.

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