Page 52 of If You Never Come Back
Again, there’s a silent moment, but this time the tension in the air is painted different. Not the dark shade of strain like before, but something lighter and brighter. Something joyful.
But then Wes blinks, turns his head away to look at his bag on the floor, signaling the moment’s over. “I should probably get this to the post office before it closes.”
“Right.” I let out a flustered chuckle. The moment’s passed. “Thanks again for doing that.”
He nods, then heads for the door. I spin away to adjust my easel, expecting to hear the hard click of the door. But there’s only more silence. I glance up to see Wes giving me that same stare from before.
“What I meant to say earlier was I wish I could have been here with you when you made your dream come true. I’ll always regret that. You must have been so happy. And seeing you happy was my favorite thing in the world.”
Before I can say anything, he’s gone.
Chapter Seventeen
“Okay but, like, how did he say it?” Remy asks from the opposite end of the couch, eyebrows wrinkled together in concentration.
I shove a spoonful of Nutella in my mouth, savor it, swallow, and sigh. “Like he meant it.”
Remy squints at me from the opposite end of the couch. Yesterday’s visit from Wes is doing a number on me. That’s why Remy is here on a break from Dandy Lime, helping me decipher just how I should feel about the words Wes left me with before he walked out the door.
I wish I could have been here with you when you made your dream come true. I’ll always regret that.
Remy hums before leaning back on the couch. He swipes the jar of Nutella from me and dives in with his own spoon, then hands back the jar. “More importantly, how doyoufeel about it?”
I throw my good arm up in the air. “I have no idea.”
“Lie,” Remy scoffs. “It’s written all over your face. And you wouldn’t have texted me this morning asking me to come over to chat about Wes and your conversation if you didn’t have an inkling.”
I shove his arm. “It’s not a lie. I admit, there were some definite, hard-core emotions swirling within me when he said that. I just don’t know how to deal with them.”
“You both agreed to this weird arrangement you have going on.” Remy pats my arm, chuckling. “So is he officially your caretaker? Your personal assistant? No, wait, errand boy! I like the sound of that much better.”
He falls back on the couch, clutching his stomach as he cackles. I poke him in the ribs, the one spot I know is his weakness. He yelps and frowns.
“Would you shut up already? It’s not a weird arrangement. It was either Wes helping me or I would have been pestering you every day to take on my to-do list.”
“Okay, fair point.” Remy holds his hands up in surrender. “All I’m saying is that it’s clear by his words and your reaction that there’s something between you two still.”
I deflate at Remy’s dead-on assessment.
“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he adds.
“Of course it’s a bad thing. I loved him and wanted to start a life with him. Marriage, kids, family, all that. He didn’t love me—and he didn’t want what I want. Why would I try to make something work with him when we’re in two completely different places? Now our best hope is to make it work as friendly exes, but we can’t move on to that stage if there are still feelings between us.” I frown. “And when did you change your tune? You were nodding your head right along with me before when I said I didn’t want to see Wes ever again. You were ready to chuck him out of the bar the night he came in to see me, remember?”
Remy lifts an eyebrow, giving me his trademark doubtful look. But to my surprise, he says nothing.
I screw the lid back on the Nutella and place it on the coffee table. “You’re awfully quiet.”
Remy sighs. “I admit I had it out for Wes when he came back out of the blue looking for you. I was ready to make him pay for breaking your heart. Even the way he wanted to take care of you after you got hurt had me suspicious. I thought it was a way for him to get rid of the guilt he felt after leaving you.”
For a second, he looks away, like he’s gathering his thoughts for what he wants to say next.
“When you told me Wes would be dropping by every day to help you, I thought it was a bad idea—at first. But then I stopped and thought about it. Guys do not offer to spend their free time with women they have zero feelings for.”
Now it’s Remy’s words that are throwing me for a loop. He seems to notice because he pats my hand.
“I was mad as hell when I saw him come back and give you that half-assed apology,” Remy says. “But there’s something behind his actions.”
“How do you know that?”
