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"Shhhhh," is all I can say to his desperate begging. I run my hands over his head and down his back and up his sides and then start the process all over again. "Shhhh, baby. I got you, love. You are home. I got you."
Remi is home. Remi is home. Remi is home.
* * *
Eventually,our sobs taper down to gentle snuffing. There's only so long a person can keep up that sort of emotional output before it peters out to exhaustion. We've settled until I am flat on my back with Remi's cheek resting on my shoulder. Our combined tears are still drying on my chest.
“Tired?” I ask.
My voice is croaky from crying, broken with the shock of seeing him again so soon after the confrontation just a few hours ago. Without words, he twists his body beside me, and as one, I pull as he scoots until my chest is against his back. His weight against me feels like a favorite blanket from a childhood long lost. Comforting, simple.
Perfect.
He smells like sweat and sadness, but underneath that, like coffee and mouthwash and soap.
He must have showered off the liquor.
Careful of how sore I’m sure his lower half still is, I slide my knee between his thighs. He leans back partially, so I’m taking more of his weight against me. It gives me the perfect opening to place closed-mouth kisses over the skin of his shoulders. His hand reaches out and drags my arm even tighter around him.
He shudders against my touch, getting heavier with every breath.
“I haven’t been to sleep," he mumbles.
Oh, baby. What have you been doing to yourself?
“What time is it?”
It can’t be all that late in the day. With the extended holiday shopping hours, Julia planned to get out and back home before the chaos started. I know she was up early.
His voice is soft and heavy when he speaks. I can feel it rumble through his chest into my arm and down his spine, against my stomach.
“It was almost seven when I checked out of the hotel. So, eight-thirty, maybe? Eight? I brought everything I had with me. The rest of my stuff is in storage.”
Checked out of the hotel.I squeeze my eyes as tight as possible, so he won’t feel my new onset of tears drip on his shoulder. I kiss his back a smidgen firmer.
“We’ll go get it later then. Sleep, love. I’ll be here.”
He must have been waiting for me to say those very words.
From one minute to the next, Remi is asleep in my arms.
Where he belongs.
2
REMINGTON
Icould probably sleep for a week. It’s more than sheer physical exhaustion. I’m depleted. Empty. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? When you’re sick, you go to the doctor. When your car breaks, you take it to get repaired.
If my life is broken, thentheyare the repair shop. I should feel guilty for only coming to them because I've hit rock bottom, but that's the beauty of it suppose. There’s a point where you get so low, you don't have things like self-respect to hold you back anymore.
I hit that last night, wearing the welts of another man and still begging Justin to take me.
I need them. There’s no other explanation.
I finally admitted it to myself. Hell, I admitted in the middle of the damn trustees’ meeting. I gave up everything to be here.
Now I just need to admit it to them.
