Page 13 of Love Resurrected
She’s right, I do. I can’t flip people off, my fingers just look funny. But the gesture makes me feel better anyway.
The board shorts fit fine, as do the flip-flops. But the shirt is tight around my arms and chest. I’ve been working out a lot, anything to try to keep a handle on all this anger inside me. Otherwise, I just feel like I’ll snap and do something stupid. And I’m almost positive I’ve hit my stupid quota for this lifetime. It’s why I'm on desk duty at work.
Again.
Good news is, if I flex at all, I’m going to Hulk out of this shirt and pop a button or two. Knowing that it’s Chance’s shirt, and that my chest is now more built than his, makes me smirk with satisfaction. Mainly because he’s a cop and I’m a firefighter, and that competition is always waiting in the sidelines to rear its head. I ball up my other clothes in the same bag and head back out to join the others.
Remi is waiting for me in the near empty hall. She leans up and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you.”
I nod.
“I don’t do this to torture you, you know,” she says. “I do it because Ineedyou to be happy. I can’t handlethis.” She motions to me.
I cock my head and raise my brows, even though I’m sure I know what she’s going to say.
“I promised her, Brad. Promised her when she was—”
“I know, Remi. Jesus.”
“No, you don’t. Listen to me.” Her voice breaks, and she pauses for a moment before continuing. “Yes, you know I promised her we’d watch out for you. And you haven’t let us do that. It’s been three years, Brad. Three years without my best friend. That’s a long fucking time. How do you think I feel when something makes me happy and she’s not here with me to enjoy it? I have so many fan-fucking-tastic things in my life. And I want to be happy. But it’s hard when all I do is miss her. Then I look at you, and you have nothing to make you smile. And I can’t live like this. I can’t live knowing that I’m moving on without her and you aren’t. So, even if you won’t do this for you, do it for me. Do it so I can be a better mom to your godkids. And a better wife to your friend.” She wipes at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
I take a minute to look at her. Really look at her. She looks amazing, as usual. But she’s right, there is a satisfaction about her I’ve never really paid attention to before. A contentment that becoming a wife and a mother has brought her. And she is the last person any of us ever thought that would happen to.
But along with that is a sadness, when she talks about Kat, it’s just not as prevalent as the other emotions. I pull her into my arms. “I’m sorry, Rem.” I clear my throat. “I forget I’m not the only one who lost her. I keep waiting to wake up and have it be better, for me to feel better, and it never happens.”
“I know,” she says into my chest. “All we can do is keep waking up each day and moving forward. Keep living. And on the days that it’s harder than others, we remember this is what she wants. As awful as it feels, she wants us happy and living life the best way we can.” She steps back out of my embrace.
I wipe at the tears on my cheeks and pinch at the bridge of my nose to get them to stop, then clear my throat again. “Thank you, Remi.”
“I love you, B. You know that, right?”
“Love you too, Rem.”
She kisses my cheek, then turns to head down the hall toward the reception area and check-in for the auction. I stay put, trying to collect my thoughts enough to convince myself this is the right thing for me to do. That my promise to Kat to live my life, somehow balances out the betrayal I feel over doing so.
5
Tenley
“We are at five minutes to start. All fifteen are accounted for, mic’d up, and ready, except number nine,” one of my runners announces through the headsets we’re all wearing to communicate with one another.
“I know he’s here,” I report back. “I’ll find him.” I grab an extra mic and head out toward reception, where I last saw him. He’s not there, or anywhere in the front of the building. I walk through the main room one more time.
“Hey,” I say when I run into Sadie and Lexie. “Have you guys seen Brad?”
“Check near the restrooms,” Lexie replies. “Remi was going to make him change his clothes.”
“Oh, thank god. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.” I leave the girls to continue tittering about all things baby-related and head back out to reception, then down the hall toward the restrooms. He’s changed into shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, which is great. But he’s pacing and talking to himself, which doesn’t seem good at all.
“You ready to do this?” I ask when I reach him.
“Do I look ready?” he asks.
“Well, you changed your clothes at least. It’s a start.” I hold up the microphone and transmitter. “May I?”
He motions with his hand for me to go ahead.
I move behind him and lift his shirt so I can attach the transmitter housing to the band of his shorts. His skin is hot to the touch, and he jumps at the feel of mine.
