Page 73 of See It Through
Remi and I wereat the diner having dinner. I was trying to be a good companion but failing miserably. There were things I wanted to talk to him about that I wasn’t sure he’d want to hear. Like how I’d caught myself picking up my phone to dial Graham several times throughout the day, and I was frustrated with myself for forgetting I couldn’t do that anymore. If it were Phoebe, I would have told her how I was feeling, but with Remi, I’d tucked it away for later.
Except…even buried, my frustration was lurking, taking my attention from him.
He chuckled. “Guess I need to choose a less boring topic.”
Startled I’d let my thoughts wander so far he’d noticed, my spine snapped straight, and I tipped toward him.
“No—it’s not you at all. It’s my damn brain.”
He glanced around the diner, taking everything in. For a Thursday evening, it was fairly busy. Teller and Brady were a few tables away, Teller throwing eye-daggers my way every few minutes. Plenty of other familiar faces were scattered around, as well as tourists passing through our pretty little town. Enough to distract me, for sure, but on a normal basis, I found Remi so compelling my focus locked on him and stayed there.
Today had just been so crummy, my need to vent was overwhelming everything else.
“Is there too much going on?” he asked gently, without judgment.
I loved that he was aware of our surroundings and understood why it might be difficult for me to give him my full attention. He’d hate to hear me say it, but in this instance, he reminded me of his dad.
“No. Not really.” I blew out a heavy breath. “One of my horses has chronic laminitis—inflammation of the tissue connecting the hoof to the bone.”
He winced. “That sounds painful.”
“It definitely is, but it’s not uncommon. I’ve treated many horses with it, but this one mare, I can’t seem to help. I’ve been working with her vet and owner to get it figured out, and it’s like we keep taking one step forward and two steps back.”
He reached across the table to squeeze my hands, and it was nice. “I wish I had some advice.” That was nice too.
But it wasn’t what I needed.
I sighed. “I do too.”
Remi watched me, a deep crevice between his brows. “That’s not it, is it?”
I shook my head. “Not all of it.”
“You need to talk about it?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re the right person for me to talk to.”
Hurt rippled over his expression. He fell back against his seat, our hands losing contact. “All right. Then…uh—”
“It’s not you, Rem.”
He huffed a short laugh. “Still not me?”
“It isn’t. I just—” There was no way out of this, and honestly, we couldn’t keep dancing around the topic of his dad. I still ached for him every day, and not being able to express that to Remi was untenable.
So I told him.
“Here it is. I spent the day wishing I could call Graham and ask for his advice. And every time I wished it, grief struck me like a bolt of lightning to the chest. I’ll never be able to have his advice again. I miss him in a way I can’t explain to you because youdon’tmiss him. I understand why, and you have every right to those feelings, but right now, I’m thinking about him. I’m missing him, and I can’t talk to you about it.”
He blinked a few times then took a deep breath. “Why not?”
“I’m not going to do that to you. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“You can talk to me about anything. I’ll try to understand. It’d kill me knowing you had a bad day and are holding it all in to make me comfortable. You don’t need to do that, sweetheart. I sure as hell don’t want you to.”
“Oh.” I pressed my lips together, struck by the vehemence in his voice. “Okay.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and he leaned forward again, reclaiming my hands. “You know what I’ve always wondered?”