The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (109)

“I think the scariest thing for me, when it comes to my sister, is forgetting things about her. I don’t ever want to forget how special she was,” I answer as honestly as I can. “But all thanks to you, for giving me the opportunity to talk about her right now, I’m remembering all of my favorite things about her, and that is making my heart smile.”

Without responding with words, Lexi surprises the hell out of me by turning around and wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tightly.

And it’s almost uncanny how much this hug was exactly what I needed and how Lexi, one of the least outwardly affectionate children I’ve met, knew just how to give it to me.

Thank you, sweet girl.

Just after our hug comes to an end and Lexi is busy looking at herself in my mirror some more, I hear the soft sounds of Izzy beginning to wake up in her crib. She’s recently started this thing where she doesn’t start crying at first, but more, yelling for us. It’s basically baby babble for “Hey, I’m awake! Come get me!”

“I think I hear Izzy,” Lexi updates, and I nod in amusement.

“Yep. That definitely sounds like her. What do you say we go get her out of her crib and you can feed her a bottle while I start getting ready for work?”

“Should we get Uncle Remy up, too?”

“How about we let him sleep a little longer?” I offer a secret smile and drop my voice to a whisper. “I think he’s still taking it hard that he’s so horrible at picking out good movies for movie night.”

“Okay.” She giggles at that.

Once we both manage to quietly get out of the master bedroom without waking Remy and then into Izzy’s nursery, we’re greeted with a big baby smile.

While I’m changing a wiggly Izzy’s diaper, Lex stands beside her, trying to keep her entertained with silly faces. Izzy practically squeals, she loves it so much.

“Maria, I think you should marry my uncle Remy,” Lexi says out of the damn blue, practically shocking me into a seizure.

“Uh…w-what?”

She lets Izzy hold on to her finger and makes another silly face at my girl, but eventually, she repeats her words. “I think you and my uncle Remy should get married.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, but thankfully, Lexi moves on quickly and becomes fully invested in making Izzy giggle some more.

But I haven’t moved on.

I haven’t moved on at all.

In fact, I’m right back in my teenage shoes, dreaming of a life with Remington Winslow and wondering if it’s all going to slip through my fingers.





Twenty-Six Years Ago…

Sophomore year, early May

Maria

I finish writing the letters R-E-M-Y on the big poster board on my floor and stand back to see if they’re centered below Remy’s senior picture.

I think? I hope?

“Whatcha doing?” My sister’s voice fills my ears, and I glance over my shoulder to see her standing in the doorway of my bedroom.

“Making a poster.”

She walks into my room and stands right beside me, staring down at the poster board by my feet. “Is that for Remy?”

“Well…I really hope it is, or else I’ve put the wrong name and picture on some other dude’s poster.” I grin over at her, and she playfully shoves at my shoulder. “It’s a poster for Remy’s senior night next weekend, actually. Every senior gets one.”

“What’s senior night?”

“It’s a party for all the seniors to celebrate graduating high school.”

She moves over to my desk, sits down in the chair, and starts doodling on one of my notepads. “When is Remy’s graduation again?”

“First week in June.”

“That’s so soon!” She drops the pen from her hand, and her eyes morph into saucers. “I can’t believe Remy is going to be moving off to college! Like, you’re still going to be in high school, but he’s going to be in freaking college, Ri! What do you think that’s going to be like?”

Gah. Hard. Really, really hard.

“Um…I don’t know,” I mutter and try to busy myself with adding a little confetti pizzaz to Rem’s poster.

Honestly, even though I’ve tried to carefully broach the subject, we’ve yet to really talk about the fact that he’s not going to be staying local. And anytime I bring up that soon-to-be reality, Remy tends to change the subject entirely.

“How old do you need to be to get married?”

“Excuse me?” That startles a laugh from my throat. “Is there something you need to tell me? Don’t you think you’re a little young for you and Brandon to be thinking about marriage?”

“Get real, sis. I broke up with Brandon two weeks ago.” Isabella rolls her eyes. “And I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about you and Remy. I think that’s what you guys should do.”

“Remy and I should do what?”

“Get married! Duh!”

I turn to look at her. “You do realize I’m only sixteen, right? That’s a bit young to be getting married. Or even thinking about getting married.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to end up marrying him someday anyway. Why not just do it now?”