The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (125)

The dining room is empty save for us, in the middle of it, shouting at each other. Way to ruin a family dinner.

“Remy, now isn’t the time for us to have this discussion.”

“Oh, but it is. You’ve started it, Ri, and now we’re going to finish it.”

“No, we’re not.” I stand up from my chair. “I’m going to take Izzy home. You stay here and enjoy the rest of dinner with your family.”

“They’re your family, too, you know.”

Knowing anything else I say will just set him off, I simply walk toward the dining room doors to leave. If I want time, I should have time, dammit.

But when I turn the knob, the door doesn’t budge.

What the hell?

I tug on the door some more, hoping to jiggle it free, but it’s not moving.

What the fuck? Did those Winslow fuckers lock us in here together?

“I can’t believe you’re all of a sudden questioning all this,” Remy continues on a tirade. “That’s so fucked up.”

“How is that fucked up?” I turn back toward him, irritation guiding my movements. “I’m pretty sure any woman in my situation would start questioning shit. Especially when there’s a child involved.”

“A child whom I’ve done nothing but love and take care of.”

“You’re right, you have. You’ve been amazing to Izzy, Rem. And to me too. More than amazing, actually. But at this point, I have to ask myself, what are we even doing? Is there even a future? In one year, are you still going to be around? What about two or three? Or ten? And if not, what will that do to Izzy?”

What would that do to you?

The mere idea of it all, of Remy just up and leaving us, well, it feels almost as painful as the day I found out my sister wasn’t coming home.

It feels like losing a piece of myself. Like losing my person. My family.

“I’ve lost enough,” I find myself whispering raggedly. “I can’t lose another person I love. And for as long as things continue on like they are, without definition or labels, I can’t know that I won’t. And that’s fucking scary.”





Remy

I watch Maria’s eyes fill with tears. She quickly turns back toward the door and tugs on it some more, apparently unable to open the damn thing.

But it’s hard for me to focus on that because I feel like she just tore my heart out of my chest.

She just acted like it was possible for me to walk away from her and Izzy. Like one day, I’ll just decide that I’m done with them and simply leave them behind.

I am not my father, and I am most definitely not that guy.

She’s banging her fists on the door now. “Can someone open this? It’s locked!”

“I know it’s locked.” Jude’s voice echoes from the other side of the wall.

“Jude, unlock it, please,” Maria begs, and her voice is shaky with unshed tears. “I need to go.”

“No.” My sister is now chiming in. “You need to stay and talk it out.”

“Winnie?” Maria lets her forehead fall to the door with a soft thud. “What the hell? I need to make sure Izzy is okay.”

“She’s good, hun. Still sleeping. My mom has her.”

Maria turns back to me. “You do realize your family locked us in here, right?”

I nod. “I do.”

“Okay…but how are we supposed to get out of here?”

“We’ll let you out once you two talk it out!” Jude is back. “Not sure if you realize this, Maria, but you and my brother belong together!”

His words unleash something inside her, causing a flood of tears to roll down her cheeks.

It’s heartbreaking, to be honest. To see her like this, knowing that I play a part in why she’s upset. It reminds me so much of the day that I’ve come to regret more than anything in my life.

The day I watched Maria cry just like this…and then let her walk away.





Twenty-Six Years Ago

Late Summer, after senior year

Remy

Nerves fill my chest, and Maria sits beside me, at one of our favorite spots in Central Park. She fidgets with her jean shorts, and I try to gain the strength to have a conversation with her that I know is going to be hard.

In less than a week, I’m going to be heading off for college, and Maria will be here, finishing her last two years of high school.

I love this girl like crazy, I really do, but I don’t think staying together is the right thing. She should enjoy her last two years of high school, and I should have the freedom to enjoy being in college.

We shouldn’t be stressed over a long-distance relationship right now.

We should just be living our lives. Having fun. Enjoying being young while we can.

“Do you want to grab dinner aft—” she starts to say just as I finally find the courage to tell her. As a result, we pretty much talk over each other.

“We need to talk, babe.”

Her eyes jerk to mine, but I repeat myself, just to ensure she hears me.

“We need to talk, babe.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, instead searching my gaze. Eventually, she looks out toward the park and nods. “Yeah, I guess we do, huh? You’re leaving soon, and we need to figure out where we go from here.”