I balked and nearly missed a step. Hollyn felt the sudden shift and squawked in alarm.
“What did you just say?” Cora Archer’s involvement in my sudden disappearance was a secret I fully planned to take to my grave. “I didn’t leave because of your mom, Remy.”
I really didn’t. I left because I was worried about her and about myself. I honestly believed we were no good for each other at the time. We were hurting each other without meaning to, and I hated that for both of us.
She huffed indignantly, and I watched her bare shoulders stiffen. “I know she asked you to go when I was in the hospital. My dad told me everything. I was really mad at her for a long time. I barely spoke to her for a year after I first found out. But she’s always going to be my mom. And I know she’s always going to do what she thinks is best for me. It’s taken a lot of time and some intervention from my dad and Zowen, but I’m working on forgiving her. You, on the other hand...” She glared at me over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for leaving without any explanation—or even a goodbye. I know I screwed up. I was off the rails and needed some serious professional help, but I still deserved a real goodbye from you, Hyde.”
“I can’t believe you knew your mom talked to me that night.” All this time, I’d stayed away from her, kept a careful distance because I was terrified that I would let something slip. I was scared to death that I would cause a rift between Remy and her mom. I foolishly believed leaving her a solid relationship with her mother was the one gift I could give her when I was gone. “I really didn’t leave because of what she said. I was already on my way. She simply put some things I’d been struggling with in perspective. I actually owe your mom a lot. I never would’ve found what I was meant to do without her giving me the little push I needed. My parents were always so overprotective because I went through so much when I was young before they saved me. They never would’ve encouraged me to get out there and find myself the way your mom did. Because of her, I get to build stuff like my dad and help people in need just like my mom. I don’t regret my choice to join the Army.”
Remy practically stomped into the living room and flung herself on the couch. She watched me with hostile eyes as I made my way over to her and sat down next to her. I handed the wiggling baby over with precise directions on how to hold her. Remy might’ve been worried about handling the baby, but she was a natural. And she was right about Hollyn liking her. The baby waved her hands happily and gurgled in delight as soon as she was in Remy’s arms.
I patted both of them on the head and straightened so I could step into the kitchen and work on getting my daughter fed. Remy looked up at me with a pout and pointed stare.
“I’m glad you found where you were meant to be, but you still could’ve stopped by to say goodbye. I think I deserved that much, no matter the circumstances. I was broken. You were always the one I turned to, the one who made things better. When you were suddenly gone, it was a lot to deal with, on top of everything else that was going wrong inside my brain. It made getting better so much harder than it had to be.”
I felt my shoulders slump and lifted a hand to rub the back of my neck. I closed my eyes for a second, and remembered how hard it had been to walk away from her, knowing how fragile she was at that moment.
“I couldn’t say goodbye. If I tried, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave. Walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Not knowing how you were, if you were getting better, if I would ever be able to be around you again—all those things kept me awake for weeks while I was at boot camp. I made things harder for me, too, Remy. You weren’t the only one suddenly going through withdrawals.” It really felt like I was coming down from something, like I was sick both physically and mentally from having to suddenly live my life without her at the center of it. I didn’t smoke. Wasn’t a big drinker. Never messed around with anything that might get me in trouble because of my mom’s history of substance abuse. But I remembered feeling very much like I was addicted to Remy Archer at the time. “At the end of the day, all that matters is you got better and started proactively addressing your issues. I don’t care if you can’t forgive me if it means you never get to the point you feel that hopeless again. I’ll be the bad guy in our story for as long as you need. I tried to tell you since the beginning I wasn’t the hero you made me out to be. That was always wishful thinking on your part.” I opened the fridge and shoved my heated face into the cool interior.
This conversation was probably a long time coming, but I never expected it to take place while Remy was holding my baby right after we both committed to moving back home. And I definitely never planned on her knowing all along that her mom had intervened in our disaster all those years ago. It made all the time I avoided her to protect that secret seem wasted. I really could’ve used the kind of friend Remy had always been to me lately, and I had a million regrets of how I handled everything up to this point.
“As for trusting you with your own life, that isn’t something I would ever question. Even though we haven’t been around each other over the years, I know how hard you work to make sure you’re as healthy as possible. Your dad talks to my dad all the time about how you’re doing. Your parents are so damn proud of you. No one who knows you would change a single thing about you, and that includes the complicated way your mind works. You scare me sometimes, Remy, but you’re also the one and only person who always makes me feel better about myself. You may be a work in progress for the rest of your life, but who isn’t?”
I walked over and knelt down in front of her, handing her the warm bottle and showing her how to hold it so Hollyn could eat without getting too much air in her tiny little belly. The baby waved her arms around excitedly as Remy and I stared at each other in a moment that was as tense as we’d ever had. I wanted to believe we’d managed to clear the air, that all the hard truths between us had been heard, but her gaze was still guarded, and she was still looking at me like I was her enemy.
“My dad told your dad I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder?” Her eyebrows lifted, and her mouth turned down into a fierce frown. “I find that hard to believe. No one in my family really likes to talk about it. It nearly killed me. To them, this disorder is the only enemy in my story.” She sighed and looked at me with sad eyes. “But for me, it’s just part of who I am. It’s no different than having curly hair or being short. I can’t hate something that makes me who I am; I can’t treat it as something bad and distasteful. I also can’t let it be all that I am. It takes more work than you will ever know for me to even have my own kind of normal.”
Before I could think better of it, I lifted a hand and brushed my thumb across the gentle ridge of her cheek. It was a gesture I often used when we were younger. One I used to calm her down and get her to focus on me when she was in a mood or when she was clearly struggling to get control of her emotions. Her skin was as soft as I remembered. And she blushed as prettily as I remembered, too.
What was new was the way my heartbeat kicked up a notch and the way my hand wanted to shake after touching her. I felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of my neck, and it gave me chills all over.