Page 102 of The Potter

My voice ends up coming out as a whisper. “All the time. And I know I shouldn’t, okay? He was a royal jerk who crushed my already bruised heart. But some days… I can understand why he did it.”

Remington frowns, not agreeing at all, but I keep on, “I can understand a pain so excruciating you would do anything to get away from the constant ache.”

Rem opens his mouth, likely about to argue, but I hold up a finger. “I can, Rem. I’ve been where Vance is.”

“And where is Vance, Hal? Not here, that’s for sure. He’s over in Bloomfield, making millions by fucking the vulnerable patients who need his help.”

So, Rem is still a little pissed at Vance. That’s okay. We both have our ways of dealing.

“You know that’s not what happened between Vance and me.”

He grabs the beer from my hand and tips it back. “According to him, that was exactly how it went down between you.”

“Vance lied; he didn’t mean what he said.”

Remington scoffs, tossing the now empty beer bottle into the trash. “Sure, he did.”

I’m not here to convince Remington of Vance’s feelings for me because Remington doesn’t believe in anything when it comes to love.

Someone left scars on him that I may never uncover.

I take Remington’s hand in mine and squeeze. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here, away from Vance and the Potter brothers.”

He sighs. “But you’re not happy. You miss them.”

I shrug. “So, maybe I do. It doesn’t change the circumstances. Vance made his choice, and I made mine.”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “With Maddox, a bigger asshole than Vance could ever be.”

“Maddox is temporary.”

At least, I hope.

Remington is right, though. I do find myself in my trailer, wondering if acting is really where I’m supposed to be. I think of Vance’s patient, Charlotte’s daughter, often. I wonder if she ever got the surgery and was able to wear the prom dress of her dreams.

These are the things I miss the most, being in California.

Other than Vance, of course.

But I still find myself worrying if Astor is overbooking his appointments and forgetting to file his charts. Apparently, he hasn’t hired another secretary since I left. But he makes sure to keep me up to date with the comings and goings of the office. Never much about Vance, though. Which is probably for the best. Knowing Vance is thriving and happy would only make my uncertainty about acting worse.

I look at Remington, his brown eyes full of concern. “Areyouhappy here, Rem?”

Moving here was my idea, but he’s the one who gave up his life to come with me.

“I already told you, I had nothing better to do.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, though.”

Sometimes I wonder if Rem has ever been happy. Occasionally, he’ll laugh, and it sounds genuine, but more often than not, it’s like he just goes through the motions, both of us functioning on autopilot.

Pulling his hand away, he makes this disgusted sound. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“Well, I’m still deciding.”

Happiness isn’t a dress you can just put on.

It takes time and hard work.

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