Page 63 of Don't Remind Me
A part of me wanted to tell Dani how much that stung, to let her see the tender skin my family always managed to poke. It was a vulnerability I’d only ever shown Dr. Ohara. One I still had a hard time facing myself.
How much of it would she really want to know? How awkward would any mention of my family be for her?
Maybe it wouldn’t be awkward at all. Maybe the certainty that it would be was all in my head. Maybe I should try letting her in and see how it felt for both of us.
I had to make it through this shower first.
I took a deep breath and pushed my way out of the rental car, grabbing the gift bag off the front seat. Hot August air pressed in around me, plastering my button-down shirt to my back, the stiff material offering no breathability. The only reason I’d worn it was because my mom had given it to me, which meant it might be one less thing she’d find to criticize me for. I wasn’t up for that today. All I wanted was to celebrate Alec’s growing family and leave without any added drama.
Michael Bublé’s singing greeted me over the speakers as I pushed open the front door. The same muted-toned furniture and ornately framed artwork I’d grown up with filled the space as if no time had passed, every throw pillow and decorative trinket precisely arranged into the picture of domestic bliss.
My chest constricted as memories barraged me. I was sixteen again, seventeen, eighteen, slipping silently past this same room as I snuck out the front door, slowly pulling the latch closed behind me, relief flooding my lungs the second I was on the other side. As if I could breathe again.
It was a calling I desperately wanted to answer as the ivory walls with their crown molding squeezed in around me.
I made a straight line through to the kitchen instead, out the sliding door and onto the deck, where my breaths came a little easier in the fresh air.
What had to be at least fifty people mingled throughout the backyard. Buffet tables were set up on one side of the deck, covered in metal trays of catered food, while high tops and round tables draped in white tablecloths were scattered across the grass. At the center of each was an arrangement of white and yellow flowers, matching the yellow balloons tied all along the yard’s white fence. It looked like something straight out of Martha Stewart. I had to hand it to my mom—it was impressive.
And the complete opposite of anything I would plan or want for myself. Not really surprising at this point, but it still made my shirt feel that much tighter.
With a quick sweep, I was able to spot my parents. Dad stood just off the deck with a few of my uncles and a man I recognized as Stephanie’s father. Mom was across the yard with most of the ladies, orchestrating what looked like a game involving diapers. At the center of the chaos sat Stephanie under the shade of the large oak tree.
I crossed the deck to deposit my gift on the table with the others, then headed to the cooler beside the food and grabbed a beer. I’d just twisted off the top when my brother stepped through the sliding door, grinning when he saw me.
“You made it, man.” He pulled me into a hug, slapping a hand against my back before pulling away.
“Yeah, I—” I started to sayI wouldn’t miss it, but I probably would have if Mom hadn’t been so insistent. “Yeah.”
Guilt gnawed at me. My little brother was having his first kid. I should want to celebrate with him. Should feel proud of him instead of wishing he’d do one thing that didn’t meet my parents’ expectations. Should be able to look at him without bitterness twisting my stomach.
I wanted him to be happy. He’d never been a bad brother to me, had never antagonized me or judged me for my decisions, at least not to my face. It wasn’t his fault he had the kind of relationship with our parents that I’d never managed to build.
We stood next to the food table in silence, peering out at the yard.
“Congratulations, by the way,” I spat out. “I don’t know if I’ve said that to you yet.” I hadn’t. Add it to the list of ways I was a terrible big brother. Right below me fucking his ex-girlfriend.
What would he say if I told him? Just laid it all out right now:
So hey, remember Dani, your college girlfriend who I’m pretty sure at one point you planned to marry? I woke her up this morning with my tongue between her legs, then drove my cock into her until neither of us could speak. Oh, and also I can’t stop thinking about her.
Would he care? Be angry? Feel betrayed?
Or maybe he’d just think I was pathetic, like I was chasing who he’d been, trying to be the same.
Not that I was about to find out. This would be about the worst possible time for that particular conversation, not to mention I wanted to discuss it with Dani first. Another conversation I wasn’t sure how it’d go.
“I’m really happy for you and Stephanie,” I said instead.
Alec beamed. “Thanks.” His gaze landed on his wife, his whole face softening as if the rest of the party faded away. “We’re really excited.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “And, hey, maybe you’re not so far behind, now that you’re back with Gabby.”
My brows pulled together. “What are you talking about?”
“Gabby,” he said again, sounding confused. “Mom said you were back together. That’s why we invited her.”
My hand holding the beer bottle froze in midair. “You what?” Every inch of my skin grew tight as my pulse shifted into high gear. “Tell me she’s not here, Alec.” My eyes flew to the group of women across the yard.
“She…I’m sorry,” he said, voice panicked. “I swear to God, I thought you were back together.”
