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Behind the bar, Kinsley wore a tight black T-shirt with WHISKEY BLUES written across her chest. She studied Remy as she approached and then moved to the bar fridge. By the time Remy slid her butt on the stool, Kinsley placed a chocolate bar and a glass of red wine in front of her. “I take it you knew I’d be coming by today,” Remy said.
“Boone told me to have the reinforcements ready,” Kinsley said with a soft smile. “How did it go with Damon?”
Remy reached for the chocolate bar. She opened it quickly and broke off a big piece before taking a bite. “I punched him in the nose.”
Kinsley’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
The cell phone set next to the liquor bottles was tuned to Whitby Fall’s rock station, and Remy wanted to punch the current love song too. She shoved more chocolate into her mouth. She savored the sweet smooth goodness against her tongue, feeling immensely better already. “He asked me for a favor.”
“That’s an odd request. What kind of favor?”
Remy shrugged. “Got me. I didn’t give him a chance to ask. That’s where the punch came in.”
“Weird,” Kinsley said, dropping an elbow on the bar and resting her chin on her hand. “Did he say anything else?”
“Nothing at all,” Remy replied with a heavy sigh. “No apologies. No explanations. Nothing.”
Kinsley watched Remy, and then Remy watched the chocolate bar as she ripped another big piece off and shoved it into her mouth. She washed it down with the biggest gulp of wine of her life.
“I’m sorry, Remy,” Kinsley said gently, drawing Remy’s full attention again. Her eyes looked as sad as her voice sounded. “I can’t imagine any of this. I mean, I never liked Damon, but I never guessed he’d do something like this.”
No one liked Damon, except for Remy, who’d thought he was the bee’s knees of boyfriends. “I just don’t know how I could have been so wrong about him. Or how I couldn’t have seen what you all saw. It’s like I had blinders on, only seeing what I wanted to see.” Her chest felt so hollow and empty, and her body depleted of all its energy. She’d have to research a spell later in her nana’s book of spells to find something powerful to bring her back from this hell. “Most of all, I hate that I keep repeating the past. It’s like I fall for these guys who are just not who they say they are. I am so done with love it’s not even funny.”
Kinsley snorted a laugh. “Keep dreaming on that one, babe. You’re all about love, sorry to break it to you.”
“Well, that’s got to change,” Remy declared firmly. “The old me is getting me nowhere but heartbroken. Repeatedly.” She glanced down into her wineglass, staring at the deep crimson color, and sighed, wishing her nana were there. She’d have all the answers to make everything better. She really missed her wise advice and warm, gentle smile. Her throat tightened and she glanced up into her best friend’s eyes, finding tears in them. “I’m not so sure how much more my heart can take. I quit here a week ago thinking I was about to have it all.” She’d been waitressing and bartending ever since she dropped out of college to support herself after Nana died. When Kinsley bought the bar after she’d gotten her business degree—the same degree Remy was meant to have—Remy came on board immediately. But bartending had never been the dream. She felt her chest hollow even further as she went on. “I thought that I’d finally have the perfect husband and eventually be the mom I always wanted to be. I could nearly taste it. I was finally going to have my shop, one that would’ve made Nana so happy. I saved for it, planned it out. And now…there’s nothing.”
“There’s not nothing,” Kinsley said, reaching for Remy’s hand and giving it a hard squeeze. “You can have your job here until you figure out what to do next. I know that’s probably not what you want to do, but it’s your first step in starting over again.”
Regardless that taking her old job back felt like a gigantic step in the wrong direction, she squeezed Kinsley’s hand back. “Thanks.” She’d liked working at the bar. Kinsley paid her well, and the tips were great. The people who came in were awesome. But it wasn’t her own shop. She didn’t feel like she was doing what she was meant to do—help people like Nana had helped people—though what choice did she have? “Is it okay if I start back in a couple weeks? I think I need to just—”
“It’s fine,” Kinsley said quickly. “Take however long you need. You don’t have to figure all this out now. Just know the job is here, if you want it.”
“I love you,” Remy said, and gave a smile she knew probably looked really sad.
“I love you back.” Kinsley returned the smile and then her gaze shifted to something over Remy’s shoulder.
When the air shifted slightly and the hairs on her arms rose like static, Remy sighed. She was a step away from grabbing that wine bottle behind the bar and hiding in the closet until he was gone. Keeping her gaze on
Kinsley, she said to Asher, “I really appreciate that you took me to the police station, but I can’t deal with you right now. Honestly, my emotional limit is reached.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Kinsley’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open. She glanced rapidly between them and then she quickly sprinted away.
Remy shut her eyes and breathed deeply in order to not lash out. Her heart felt battered, and her mind utterly exhausted. When Asher didn’t move away, she grabbed her wineglass and chugged the entire contents back and then turned to face him. He stood directly behind her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, and his gray T-shirt was stretched across a thick chest. “What in your mind has you thinking that now—out of any time that you’ve had in the past five years—is the appropriate time to apologize to me?”
He didn’t even hesitate and gave an easy shrug. “Seemed as good as time as any. You’re finally letting me talk to you. And you’re no longer getting married, so I’m not feeling like I’m treading on ground that I shouldn’t be.”
Maybe it was his blasé attitude, her emotional state, or just her heartbreak paired with red-hot anger, but she closed the distance to poke his chest. “I have already punched one guy today. Want to be number two?”
“If it’d make you feel better, then yes,” he stated.
She stared into Asher’s eyes, not seeing any emotion, just strength. And all of that was just a reminder of the day he walked away. The day that changed the course of her entire life. And it was a reminder that when Asher objected at her wedding, it wasn’t out of love. “I’m going home now,” she told him dryly. “Do not follow me.” She charged out the door, heading down the street until she met the alleyway that led to the back parking lot of the row of shops.
Just as she reached the metal steps that led to her loft, a firm grip grabbed her arm. She whirled around, her fist clenching, when suddenly a different Asher stared at her now. One torn apart with guilt.
“I know that I fucked up and hurt you.” His voice blistered. “And I know you have every right to hate me.” He slowly released his hold, obviously realizing she wasn’t going to run. “But you don’t have to face all this alone. Let me help you through this.”
