Page 20 of The Winslow Brothers

Maria Baros.My first real relationship. My high school sweetheart.

We were thicker than thieves and dated for most of high school.

And she’s right; there are a lot of good memories wrapped up in our relationship.

Unknown: I got a new phone number, btw. But don’t feel like you need to text me back, okay? I’m not expecting us to reconnect or anything weird, given you’re about to get married LOL. But I can honestly say that whenever I think about you, I only have fond, happy memories, and I’m thankful for that. :)

A weird affection for my old high school flame’s goofy ramblings pegs me in the chest, and I smile. Maybe it’s the upcoming nuptials making me feel so sentimental, but it could be that I’m feeling a bit reminiscent too.

Maria has always been a really good fucking person—light and love and kindness.

And I can’t deny that I still adore her. Adore who she is. Adore what my bond with her gave me.

Because of her, I learned how to be in a relationship.

How to be a boyfriend.

And even though we haven’t been together for many years, she’ll always have a special place in my heart. You just don’t forget your first love, even if you’ve moved on.

I don’t hesitate to type out a response.

Me: Hey, Maria. It’s so good to hear from you. I hope you’re doing well. And yes, I’m getting married. It’s crazy that we’ve reached the age where getting married is normal. I guess this means we’re old now,huh? LOL. Anyway, I’m glad you messaged me. I’m thankful, too.

Phone back to the nightstand, I look down at a still-sleeping Charlotte and smile. I wrap my arm around her back and pull her closer to me. She’s warm and adorable, and her sexy little body feels like heaven pressed up against mine.

Fuck. This woman. She’s going to be my wife soon.

And I lie there just like that until her sleepy voice fills my ears ten or so minutes later.

“Rem?” she asks. “You awake?”

“Yeah, baby,” I say and lean down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“What time did you get in last night?”

“After five.”

“Oh boy.” She snorts and curls her body even closer to mine. “That’s late.”

“Tell me about it,” I respond on a half-chuckle.

“What did you guys end up doing anyway?” she questions and leans up on one elbow to meet my eyes. “I mean, I know a strip club and Taco Bell were involved, but what did you do after Jude called me?”

Instantly, memories of that fucking fortune-teller fill my head.

Her crazy-ass words about heartbreak repeating like a silent mantra.

“Uh…” I pause and search her eyes for a brief moment, for some reason completely unsure what I should tell her. Though, a second later, I make a snap decision. “We went to the lake house.”

That takes her aback. “You drove out to Greenwood Lake?”

I nod and force a smile to my lips. But on the inside, I’m wondering why in the hell I left out the whole fortune-teller part. It’s not like I actually believed that bullshit. So, why wouldn’t I just tell her the truth about it?

Good question, bro.

“Don’t tell me you woke up Brad and Paula,” Char says, thankfully pulling me from my crazy, unwanted thoughts.

“No.” I shake my head. “Just Brad. Ty and Jude were being dumbasses.”

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