No, this is my weight to carry until I’m six feet under.
The pin pad lock beeps and clicks. Richard installed it before I moved in to give the illusion of privacy.
“Win?”
I freeze.
Rustling bags and footsteps sound from the small kitchenette.
My brain spirals through a hundred questions. How the fuck did he get the pin? Is he pissed? What the hell is he doing here? Why didn’t he call me?
I look around for my phone, but it’s nowhere in sight. Fuck.
The squeak of sneakers approaches. “Your mom said you’ve been cosplaying as me in a depressive episode— ok, she didn’t put it like that, but I’m here to play the role of you and feed your stubborn ass.”
Tears burn in my eyes. I want to run to him. Fling myself in his arms and stay there until he forcibly removes me. But I’m glued to the floor, trapped in the shaking, useless cage of my body.
The hallway light flicks on.
I lift my tired, blurry gaze.
“Winnie…” Remy murmurs, hanging on the threshold.
One blink and he’s in front of me, on his knees, combing my hair off my forehead.
“Y-you’re not mad at me?”
His brows scrunch. “For what?”
My stomach swoops.
“I disappeared on you and I didn’t mean t-to—”
He grasps my shoulders, reeling me into him. Desperation takes over and I find myself in his lap, hugging him like a koala as he leans back against the wood frame of the daybed.
“Shh, easy, I’m not mad,” he whispers, kissing my temple. “I was worried about you, that's all.”
I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not something you get to control,” he chuckles, the vibration of it loosening the constricting knots in my chest. One hand cradles the back of my head, the othersoothingly stroking up and down my spine. For however many minutes, I cling to him as a blanket of relief descends on my exhausted mind. But a nagging thought persists.
“I should explain…”
He pulls back, holding my gaze—
And kisses me.
It’s soft and sweet and over too quickly. His hand slides to cup my cheek, thumb making a pass across my parted lips.
“You don’t have to right now,” he whispers. “I’m not here to demand reasons. I’m here because you need me and I want to be the one you lean on.”
I’m shaking so fucking hard.
“I’ve never…”
Leaned on anyone.
He nods when the words get stuck in my throat, fingers winding through the hair at the base of my skull. “Remember, this isn’t one-sided.”
