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Jolie found me on the steps that led to the gardening area. The patients were doing well with their spots, flowers of all colors pointing to the sky and looking pretty.
Rhylie didn’t have one.
I’d have to see her soon. I needed someone to remind me what a fighter Cat was and that miracles could happen because they already had when I found her at Rothbart’s.
His grating voice entered my head, “You’re welcome, by the way. Thanks to me, you now have happy memories with your little wife/brainwashed rape victim.”
Cunt.
“Remi...” Jolie’s soft voice broke through Rothbart’s hateful laugh. Thank fuck, the ringing had stopped, or I’d be stuck in my own head. Just me and him.
She sat beside me on the hard concrete, her head on my shoulder. “It’s pretty out here now. So, different to how I remember it when Woodrow’s parents owned the land.”
Yeah, it was looked after. Those assholes didn’t know how to look after anything.
“The patients have done great.” I sniffled.
“Your friend here is Cat’s sister, isn’t she? Does she have a spot out here?”
I froze. Jolie knew who Rhylie was, reminding me that Cat did, too. Dec had told me that was why she’d insisted he bring her to me. Realizing who Rhylie was made her desperate to see me, eager to know everything, and unwilling to wait until my show was over.
I swallowed down my own questions. “She doesn’t. Rhylie doesn’t like being around others too much. She likes movies, mostly comedies, and one-on-one chats. Mostly with me, sometimes Novaletti or Feebee. I’ll go see her soon. I have to tell her about Cat.” Looking at the flowers, I continued, “Cat, who I should be with but can’t. I can’t stay in there, Jolie. I can’t see her that way. It washes away my belief that she’ll be okay. I know it makes me a selfish husband, but—”
“It makes you human, Remi.” Jolie nodded, curls hitting my face. She was always so understanding.
“What made you guys go see Rhylie?”
“Cat was curious about who you came to see because she knew it was another woman.”
“It’s not like that. There could never be another woman. There never will.”
“I know. Rhylie had a lot of pictures of her. Cat already knew of a sister. I think when she saw her, everything fell into place.”
“And that’s why she came to find me. God.” I hid my shame behind my hands. “If I’d only told her from the start. I just keep screwing up when it comes to her.”
“You don’t.”
I removed my hands, dragging them both down my face, over scars and the memories of removed piercings. I whispered, “She had a heart attack on the stage. I watched the light leave her eyes, and I don’t even remember what happened in the minutes after that. I don’t know how she survived. I only found her at Rothbart’s because I’d put a tracker in her neck without her knowing.” I continued with more agitation, “She was alert and hurt. She fucking shouldn’t have been hurt. She shouldn’t have fucking been there with him. She should never have had to see him again.”
My fingers shuffled into my pocket, pulling out the bag of cocaine. Jolie retreated, and I barely noticed. The weight of the world was too heavy on my shoulders.
“Remi...don’t.” Her fingers closed around my bicep, feeling the muscles twitch as I popped the seal. She’d never seen me on drugs, but she knew my history, knew the damage they’d caused. “Please...don’t. I’m asking you on behalf of Cat not to do this.”
“Would you stop taking drugs if the right person asked you to?” I heard another voice, Cat—younger, just as innocent, just as fierce, always perfect. My soul shattered at the thought that I might never hear her voice again.
“For Cat, Remi.” Jolie’s teeth chattered as a tear slipped down both of our faces. “Don’t do it. For Cat.”
Right in the middle of the weakest moment of my life, I did something I never thought I’d have the strength to do. I stretched my fingers to hers, and I handed her the drugs, cementing it in my head that I’d never get so close to temptation again.
“Will you give it to Dec for me? He’ll get rid of it. And don’t tell Ollie. I don’t need any extra stress right now.”
She nodded. Her arms wrapped around me, and I held her, too, pulling her in tight.
“She always hated the drugs. From the very first day. She asked me to stop.”
“She’d be proud of you for not taking them when you’re at your lowest. I’m proud of you too, Remi.” She reeled back, brushing tears from my face and then her own.
A bunch of yellow flowers that hadn’t caught my eye until now danced carelessly in the breeze, tempting me to deface someone’s patch and pick them, pulling my sorry self together to sit at my wife’s bedside. She always liked flowers.
