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“Nowyou’rebeing stupid,” she giggles, trying to get herself back under control. It takes several minutes of stopping and starting in fits. Every time it seems her laughing has stabilized; she takes another look at my thoroughly confused face and busts into chortles again.
“Oh gods, I needed that. Thank you, J. Gah!”
She huffs in laughter one more time, before shimmying her shoulders and righting her sweater across her chest.
I haven’t seen her smile this wide in…I don’t know when. Since Remi agreed to be ours, probably.
This time she takes my chin and holds it while she stares into my eyes.
“Right then. Let’s set a couple of things straight. There will be no divorce. You are stuck with me. Forever.” She settles herself across my lap again before reaching for the table and the envelope. Without a word she pulls the papers free, and with a face of disgust—nose scrunched, and lips curled like she’s smelled something foul—rips them straight in two. She shoves both halves into the envelope and drops them on the glass.
“Next, Remi and I would probably never have even spoken if it wasn’t for you. I don’t understand how you can’t see that.”
“Huh?” I say. They had total crushes on each other, everyone could see that.
“For sure!” she says, grinning. “You honestly think Mr. Brooder extraordinaire would have worked up the courage to ask me out? Lord knows I never would have asked him. You remember how shy I was then!Youcoaxed me out of my shell. I am who I am today because of you, Justin. Not despite it. The only way Remi and I work is withyou.”
Her fingers are sliding through my hair, and I lean back in my seat and let her comfort wash over me.
“Really?” I ask, genuinely curious. That’s…that’s not the way I saw it. At all.
“Oh, totally. If he were talking to us, I’d tell you to ask him.”
I didn’t tell her that he called me the other day. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, that he reached out to me and not her. And that was part of it, for sure. But I think, if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t want to share him with her. She got that little piece of him at the Holiday Ball, as much as it fucked us all up afterwards. I felt like I was owed a smidgen of quality Remi time. I really do miss my best friend.
“Have you always felt like this?” she asks, pulling me out of my head. “I mean, thinking that we’d be better off without you? Or that I’m only with you because I couldn’t have him? I never got the feeling you were a jealous sort of person, J.”
“Really?” I question with a lift of my brow. I can be incredibly jealous.
“No, you’re not. Possessive? Absolutely. Don’t think I don’t realize that’s what the nicknames are for. So you can claim your ownership over me. Ownership I’m more than happy to give you. But I didn’t think you were jealous.”
Here’s the ugly truth.
“You know, the sick thing is, I was never jealous of himbefore.Not once. I loved seeing you with him. Adored it. It gave me peace to see the people I loved most in the world find happiness in each other. I know that you and he have a special bond different from the one you and I share, and I never gave it a second thought. Then,afterwe crossed that line, it never occurred to me to be jealous. Everything just felt—right. You know?”
She nods her head.
“But now? Now I’m so jealous I feel like foaming at the mouth.”
Her cheeks flush and her nose twitches, and I know she doesn’t understand.
“Would you miss me this much if it was me that left and not him? Would you mourn me the way that you’ve mourned him? I didn’t care how much you loved him until I was worried you loved him more. How fucked up is that? I hate him for what he’s done to you. For what he’s done to us. But I’m also jealous. I’m disgustingly embarrassed about it, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling this way. Most of all, though, I’m afraid.”
She cups my face and, with the snow falling softly behind her, she looks like an angel.
“Afraid? What could you possibly have to be afraid of?”
I’ve come too far to turn back now, but I’m nauseous with nerves at saying it out loud. I haven’t even said it in therapy, though it’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks now.
“I’m terrified that you can’t love me anymore without him.”
“Justin, that’s—”
She kisses me, and it’s everything a kiss should be. Her body is pressed against mine, her breasts tight against my chest. Her hands are in my hair, pulling me hard against her, nails scratching at my scalp. She kisses me as if she could crawl inside and make a home, like it’s the only thing holding her together. I swear I feel her soul slide inside my body, and it’s a feeling I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed until I feel it again.
My breath catches on a sob, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she twists on my lap and links her legs around my waist so that we’re connected in every place we can be with the limitation of clothes between us.
“Justin,” she sighs, wiping at the tears that are flowing freely from my face. She rubs her cheek against me like a cat, and I close my eyes and bask in her warmth and her love. We’re closer than we’ve been since that horrible day when Remi left us less than half of ourselves, scattered like pebbles across the floor. “Remi and I? We’re dark, Justin. We hide in the shadows, broken people with jagged edges. Pressed together, we would only damage each other more. It’s you, our light, that makes us whole. A person can only live in the dark for so long until they wither and die. You pull us from the shadows and into the light. You’re our buffer. Our cushion. Jagged edges don’t hurt you, because your heart is so full and soft it’s made out of rubber and fluff.”
