Page 53 of Open Secrets
It’s only broken when the front door slams.
Remi walks in, shoulders tense, hair falling into his eyes. He kicks the door shut behind him, hard enough to rattle the frame.
“Ms. James took the others for food,” he mutters.
I nod, wiping my hands on a dish towel. “Why didn’t you go?”
He shrugs, dropping his backpack with a heavy thud. “I wanted to know.”
Lyle frowns. “Know what?”
“If you’re getting a divorce.”
My mouth drops open. The words knock the breath right out of me. “Remi—”
“We are not getting a divorce,” Lyle cuts in quickly, firmly. “Who told you that?”
Remi shrugs again, but his jaw’s tight. “Nobody. You guys have been fighting a lot, and… well.” He glances between us, restless, his voice softer now. “You’re both home. That never happens.”
My chest tightens. “Remi—no. We’re not getting a divorce.”
“Then why does it feel like it?” His voice cracks, sharp and young all at once. “You’re either fighting or not talking at all. You think we don’t notice, but we do.”
“Remi,” Lyle says, stepping forward, voice steady. “I promise you—this is not going to happen. We are not leaving you, or each other.”
Remi laughs, short and bitter. “Yeah. Promises. Like you promised you’d be home more? You promised a lot of shit.”
Lyle stiffens. “Watch it.”
But Remi barrels on, eyes blazing. “You weren’t here! Mom was. Always Mom. And you say words, Dad, but they don’t mean anything. You’ll be gone again as soon as the Army whistles.”
“That’s not fair,” I cut in, trying to soften it, trying to shield Lyle. “He’s here now, Remi. He’s trying.”
Remi turns on me, his voice sharp. “And that’s enough for you? He disappears, and then he shows up with some promise, and that’s supposed to make everything okay?”
My throat tightens. I don’t have an answer he’ll believe.
“Remi,” Lyle says, fists clenching at his sides. His voice is low, rough. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s a promise I will keep.”
Remi’s expression falters—just a flicker, like he wants to believe—but then he scoffs again. “Right. Just like all the other promises.”
“I mean it,” Lyle insists, stepping closer. “I’m done. I’m retiring.”
That makes Remi freeze. His eyes widen, just slightly. “Retiring?”
“Yes.” Lyle nods once, firm. “I’m done with deployments. I’m done leaving. I want to be here—with your mom, with you, with all of you.”
For a second, hope flashes in Remi’s face, raw and vulnerable. But it flickers out just as fast. He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” Lyle asks, almost desperate now.
“Because you always say whatever people want to hear!” Remi snaps, his voice cracking. “You said it to Mom, and she believed you. You said it to us, and we believed you. And every time—you left. Every time!”
“That’s not true,” Lyle fires back. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to, Remi—I left because it was my duty.”
“Duty?” Remi’s laugh is jagged, sharp. “What about your duty to us? To your family? Or does that not count?”
Lyle’s face hardens. “It does count.”
