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ly’s name.”

II

The In Between

6 YEARS LATER

HOUSTON, TX

15

DONE

REMI

“I can’t believe she’s here,” Joni says as I step into the open door of our hotel room. I walk over to the California King-sized bed in the middle of the huge room and fall backward onto the white comforter.

“I can’t believe it either.” I stare up at the ceiling and try to gather my thoughts. They’ve been racing at the same clip as my heart since I saw the name, Kalilah Greer, on the seating chart outside the reception room where Regan’s rehearsal dinner is being held tonight.

Well, actually Joni saw it. And per usual, the minute the subject of Kal comes up, Joni lost her cool. If only she knew the half of it, she might actually lose her entire mind.

There hasn’t been a single day since the last time I saw her that I haven’t imagined what it would be like to see her again. Part of me had given up hope that it would ever happen.

I had no clue where she was. Besides one random picture where she was in the background that Regan found on Facebook three years ago, there’s been zero proof she was even still alive. I didn’t even know where to start looking.

She is, by far, the person who holds the strongest place in my memories. And not just because of the drama of that last night. From the moment I met her, she and I belonged to each other. And not knowing where she was has been a special kind of torture.

My life has taken me on a journey I never imagined and I have met all types of people. I’ve learned that people like Kal, interesting and introspective, brave while also being kind and generous, funny and smart, are like needles in a haystack.

I miss her the way I imagine I would miss my right arm if it was gone. I chuckle at a memory from that summer.

“Share the joke?” Joni says a moment before she lies down next to me. When she drops her head on my shoulder, I want to sit up.

“It’s nothing,” I say.

“Nothing. It’s never nothing when it comes to her.” Joni’s voice is full of suspicion. It’s been there since that night, early on in our relationship, when I called Kal’s name when we were fucking.

I lied and said I had no idea where that came from, she’d believed me. But, she brings it up every time we argue. From the look on her face now, we’re about to have a doozy of a fight.

“What is it about her?” She sits up and peers down at me and I sit up, too.

“What are you talking about?” I ask wearily.

“I mean, it’s been years since you’ve seen her and I get the impression that for you, it feels like yesterday.”

I sigh and get off the bed.

“Let’s not do this right now. I’ve been traveling all day and had to share a car from the airport with your half-dressed, drunk for no reason colleagues. I am not in the mood, Joni.”

“Sorry, my friends aren’t all social justice crusaders or whatever you’ve become, but they’re fun. And I think you could use some of that. I want you to have a good time. I swear I don’t think you’re happy to see me at all.” Her eyes pool with tears and her lower lip trembles.

God, anything but tears. I can’t fucking stand them. Not from her. Not when she’s weaponized them so expertly.

I stare around the room and try to pick my words carefully. I feel guilty because I know—that in my heart—I haven’t done right by her at all. But, outwardly, by action and deed, I’ve been nothing but the model boyfriend. “Let’s not argue.”

“I’m not arguing, Remington,” she drawls, but there’s a sharpness in her voice that makes a lie out of her words.

“Good…” I bend down to grab my bag and throw it on the bed.

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