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Especially when he gulped it down, slapped my ass, and insisted I join him in the shower after.
I was beginning to see what all the fuss over marriage was about. Over the years, I had dated a few guys I was attracted to but didn’t actually like very much. And other times, I’d had relationships with guys I adored and admired, but had zero chemistry with. With Remy, I had the best of both worlds. Friendship and emotional support. Not to mention red-hot sex. The kind of thing I never knew existed in real life.
But it was becoming increasingly difficult to remember that what we had was only temporary. That eventually, we had to move on. And as sobering as that fact was, I couldn’t avoid it. I couldn’t hole up in this love shack in the woods of Lovewell with him forever. We each had our own lives and goals and things to do.
Remy had selflessly given me my health back. For that, I would owe him forever. I cared about him too much to drag this out and hurt us both. He deserved everything he wanted in life and more. And although it might hurt me, I would cheer him on every step of the way.
So I forced myself to think only of the present. Lovewell, research, Remy, and helping the Gagnons.
Next week, we’d head up to camp. Henri had a list of things he needed Remy to take care of up there—it would make our presence more plausible since he hadn’t been there in months—and I’d have two days to poke around, ask questions, and get the lay of the land. I wasn’t sure what I would find, or if there was anything to find, but we still had so many questions. What was Mr. Gagnon working on? And did it have anything to do with his death? The family was still grieving. Every day without answers only compounded the pain they felt. I wasn’t a cop or an investigator, but I would do what I could to help.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked. He had never given me his side of the story. Granted, I’d heard recitations from everyone else in town, but I wanted him to trust me with all his secrets, even the messy ones.
He was cutting up a rotisserie chicken we had purchased at the grocery store. Protein shakes were still the extent of the cooking skills either of us possessed, but he was getting good at preparing precooked food.
I watched as he sliced the chicken and laid it on the salad mix. Compared to me, he was Jamie Oliver, only hotter. After arranging everything just right and adding a handful of cherry tomatoes, my newly discovered favorite food, he carried the plates to the table, ignoring my question.
We sat across from one another and chewed silently. Letting the question hang in the air.
After a few minutes, he put his fork down and cleared his throat. “I’m not, really. But I’ve got to be. I haven’t been up north since last fall. And I gotta face what happened.”
“Can you tell me about it?” I asked gently.
“Over the past few years, I drank a lot. Way more than usual. Crystal and I were on, and then we were off. We were engaged one day, and the next, she was throwing things at me. I wasn’t progressing as an athlete, and I felt useless at work.”
I nodded, hoping to encourage him.
“My dad had sent me up to camp a few years earlier, to learn the ropes from Richard, who is the foreman up there. With Henri in line to take over for my dad and Adele running the machine shop, it was the natural place to put me. I love the woods and I’ve got all my heavy machinery licenses. I grew up out there and had a good rapport with the crew.
“But Richard hates me. Always called me stupid and undermined me. I was miserable. And after Dad died, I just stagnated. My relationship was a mess, my career was going nowhere, and I felt so trapped. So I was drinking and not training and fighting with Crystal a lot. But then she confronted me. Told me she was leaving me. Threw the ring I had spent a year saving for at me and called me a loser. Said she had been seeing other guys behind my back.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted.”
He gave me a weak smile. “It’s okay. We had this ugly fight, and she kicked me out of the house. And I left, even though I was the one paying the rent.
“I left a bunch of stuff at my mom’s and headed up to camp. It was the start of the season, and I was scheduled to be out there for a week, getting a new crew trained and operational. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I holed up in my room and got really stinking drunk. For a few days straight. Then I decided to take one of the trucks out and crashed it, totaling the truck and destroying a cold deck.”
“What’s that?”
“A cold deck is a carefully arranged pile of cut trees that are waiting for transport to the mill. Each one contains thousands of dollars in lumber.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. And sending heavy trees in all directions is incredibly dangerous. So not only did I cost the company tons of money, but I could have killed someone. Including myself.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Everything felt so out of control, and I missed my dad and felt so stuck and miserable. The thought of going up there and facing the guys who have seen me at my worst makes me want to throw up.”
“We don’t have to go,” I said, placing my hand on his forearm. “It’s fine.”
“No.” He pinned me with a sharp glare. “I’ve spent months trying to make amends to my family, trying to make things right. And maybe we can figure out what happened to Dad while we’re up there. Or Henri. Anything really. This is an opportunity to help, to contribute. They haven’t forgiven me.”
“Maybe you need to forgive yourself.”
“That’s impossible.” His dark eyes swam with vulnerability. “I’m so ashamed. There is no excuse for how I acted. I put people in danger and our family business at risk with my selfishness and stupidity.”
He folded and unfolded his napkin, pushing down hard on the creases. “And Henri’s accident. He wouldn’t have been behind the wheel of that truck if it hadn’t been for—”
“He’s fine,” I interrupted.
