Page 60 of When Fate Breaks
“Good,” Remy mutters, pulling me into a hug. I let him, allowing my eyes to fall shut and my head to nuzzle into his shoulder. When something feels stiff and uncomfortable about it, I wrap my arms around his waist and lace my fingers together.
There we go.
This is nice. This feels right.
Just as the most stubborn traces of my uncertainty are melting away, I feel Remy’s warm breath ruffling my hair.
“I should have known better anyways,” he says. “Nothing could ever take you away from me. Away from this town.”
My eyes snap open. I go rigid in his arms, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“It’s where you belong. Where you’ll always belong.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. “Yeah,” I rasp, my lung capacity gone.
The loud sound of a phone ringing suddenly pierces the air. Remy pulls back, and I feel a silent tear spill over. I quickly take the opportunity to swipe it away as Remy reads his caller ID. When he glances back up, I smile tightly, crossing my arms. “It’s Chuck,” he says. “Gonna take this and hop in the shower.”
“Okay, yeah. Of course,” I babble, perfectly okay with having a few minutes to myself.
Remy nods, spinning and walking towards the bathroom.
My body relaxes and I start to let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, until I hear Remy’s voice again.
“Apple Jacks?”
I look up to see him paused in the bathroom doorway, phone pulled just slightly away from his ear. “Yeah?”
“You know I love you.” It’s not a question, but rather a withdrawn statement.
“I know.”
Blake
A sharp pain suddenly registers in my balled fists, causing me to tear my gaze away from the scene in the open doorway I never should have walked past. I make my way silently out of the hallway, opening my hands to reveal the tiny half-moon indentations in my palms left by my fingernails. I’m not sure if that happened when she wrapped her arms around him or when I heard the deep sigh escape her as she rested her head against his chest.
I don’t even know how I found myself at her–theirroom anyways. One minute I was in the greenhouse, sanding the same potting table unnecessarily for the third time, trying to convince myself that the greenhouse couldn’t have already been fully done by yesterday, and the next, I was there, my gaze flicking between Evangeline’s intertwined fingers connecting herself to a man that only wishes he could deserve her and her fluttering eyelids falsely assuring him that he does.
I find that I’ve entered the kitchen as my side bangs directly into the corner of the countertop. “Goddammit!” I hiss out in a strangled whisper, biting down on my knuckles to divert the pain.
I move one elbow to rest on the counter, running my hand through hair, flicking off my baseball cap in the process, as my other hand clutches at my surely bruised side. “What the fuck am I doing?” I whisper to myself out loud, barking out a sad chuckle.
She’s engaged. She’s getting married. She’s having a wedding shower in a week.
Yeah, one you agreed to go to.
On September 1st.
I won’t soon forget it.
Jesus Christ.
I run my hands roughly down my face. This is ridiculous. We’re grown adults and I’m acting like a freaking kid. She doesn’t even want me there. She tried to stop his aunt from inviting me several times, but I wouldn’t let it go. Why wouldn’t I let it go?
Because she’s getting married.
No. I’m here for her greenhouse. Here to fix what’s broken and go.
If only.
