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It’stoasty on the patio. Or at least as toasty as it can get for December in New York. When Remi sits, Julia lands on his lap without any conversation. His arms wrap around her, and she twists around until she’s sideways and deep into his body. She tucks her head under his chin and links an arm around his back and neck, ensuring she won’t slip off. That’s probably better for him. He won’t have to look her in the eye.
Neither Julia nor I say a word. Remi is going to have to be the one to start this party.
Honestly, I don’t think Julia plans on talking tonight. She looks content to sit on his lap, as close as she can be without him inside her.
“I’m so nervous,” he says through a strained laugh.
I laugh too. I’m incredibly nervous, and I’m the one who's always asking them to talk about their feelings. Still. It’s my job to put him at ease. A job I assigned myself, but even so...
“Why?” I prompt. “It's just us. We've always been your people, long before the sex.”
Remi smiles at me softly, remembering, as I am, not thirty minutes ago when he called me his person.
Always.
“It's so much more than sex, though.”
Oh, love. I scoot my chair closer, so our knees are touching. Immediately Remi tangles his feet with mine.
“And you have no idea what it does to me to hear you say that,” I assure him. “But for right now, let's take that off the table. Just tell us what happened, Remi. Something happened to bring you back to us.”
He nods and shrugs, pushing something we can’t see off his shoulders. His grip around Julia tightens.
“This would be so much easier with a drink in my hands,” he says ruefully.
I stiffen at his words.
Julia, on the other hand, makes to stand up. She swings her legs off Remi’s lap and unwraps her arms from around his torso.
“Let me go get you one,” she offers, ever the hostess.
“No!”
Ooops. I might have barked that a little harsher than necessary.
Julia jerks to a stop, and her gaze flicks between Remi and me like she’s watching a tennis match.
“Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” She demands.
Remi clears his throat again, pulling at the back of his neck.
“I ah—” his lips tighten like he’s about to whistle as he exhales slowly before sucking in air and doing it again. “I’ve basically been drunk since the last time I left this apartment,” he admits with slumped shoulders.
Again, Julia’s gaze sweeps back and forth between us.
Without a word, she rises determinedly from her perch on Remi’s lap and storms back into the living room. We watch as she disappears around the hallway into the kitchen.
“Uhhh…”
We jump to our feet, basically running to catch up with her. By the time we reach the kitchen she has the door to the pantry where we keep the liquor wide open and is yanking bottles out two at a time. She drops them on the counter and then yanks the lids off, placing them upside down in the kitchen sink.
I watch with a wide smile on my face as a thousand dollars or more of liquor goes down the drain.
That’s my girl.
Remi finally breaks the silence.
“Jules,” he says with exasperation. “I’m not an alcoholic. I was just pissed and depressed and lonely. It was so much easier to be drunk than feel what I was feeling.”
