Dr. Neurotic(27)

Remy, it seemed, could also see the difference.

"All right, then. Lexi should be out in a second. She wanted to rehearse  our routine a few times when we got back, and you know I can't say no  to her. She just wanted to change for dinner."

"No problem," I allowed. "I know she's excited about your doing it with her." I laughed. "I have to admit, I am too."

He flipped me off. "Fuck you, asshole."         

     



 

I laughed. "Oh, come on. It's great. What you're doing for her … " I  cleared my throat. "What you do for her … especially when I didn't … it's  good, Remy."

I looked away as unexpected emotion hit me, focusing on the soft hum of a  cab headed down the street. "I can't imagine a better uncle. She's a  lucky girl."

When I gathered myself and turned back to Remy, his eyes were steely and  his jaw was rigid. He didn't look mad though-just affected.

"Dad!" Lexi shouted as she bounded out the door, bumping Remy out of the  way in the process. I smiled broadly at him as he sidestepped to keep  his balance, and he went right back to hating me.

All was back to normal.

"Oh!" Lex muttered, turning back to Remy. "Bye."

"No hug?" Remy asked.

Lexi grabbed my hand and started walking as she looked back at him. "No. We're twenty-three minutes behind schedule."

I shook my head with a smile and looked to my feet. Lexi's hand was  small but mighty in my own, and I tucked it to my chest to savor it.

"Ready for Vinito's?" I asked, and Lexi glared at me.

I laughed. "Okay, so you're ready."

"We're late."

"I know," I said. "But it's okay. Sometimes life doesn't follow a schedule."

She scoffed, looking up at me with serious-seriously beautiful-blue eyes. "It should."

God, she's funny. Even when she isn't trying to be.

"Listen. I need to make a phone call really quick, okay?"

She shrugged and pulled her hand from mine.

I dug into my pocket for my phone and went to my recent calls list to  find Charlotte. She was third from the top, so it didn't take long.

She didn't answer until the fourth and final ring, and when she did, her voice sounded funny.

"You okay?" I asked immediately.

"No, um," she mumbled. "Not really. I know tonight was a big deal, and I  was really looking forward to it, but I'm not feeling well. I don't  think I should come."

My eyebrows shot together, and I pulled Lexi to a stop on the sidewalk.  She looked to her watch and tapped it impatiently. Just hold on a  minute, I mouthed.

"Do you need us to come by? Get something for you?"

"No," she whispered, her voice sounding agonizingly sad. "That's all right. Really. I just need to go to sleep."

I was silent for a moment, considering what I should do, when Lexi looked at her watch again.

"Char-"

"It's okay, Nick. Really."

"Okay," I agreed finally, a pit in my stomach. "I'll call you later, then."

"Mmhmm," she agreed. "I'll talk to you."





As I filled my favorite mug to the brim with fresh coffee, my phone  vibrated and pinged on the counter with a text message notification. I  added sugar and milk and stirred it together with a spoon before finding  the strength to pick up my phone.



Nick: How are you feeling today, sweetheart?



A sad, pathetic sigh escaped my lungs as I stared down at the latest  text from Nick. He'd been sending me sweet messages all weekend,  checking up on me, and even offering to bring me soup and keep me  company.

He was a good man. God, he was a good man.

And with the way I'd flaked out on Friday dinner with him and Lexi, I  felt like the biggest asshole who'd ever lived. Every time he'd sent me a  text or attempted to call me over the past two days, I felt more  ashamed of my behavior.

I'd spent the last forty-eight hours going through the following stages:  Shock. Anger. Fear. Doubt. Guilt. And the worst, heartbreak.

Winnie and Remy.

When Nick had texted me-happy, innocent texts about a chance at all life  had to offer, starting with the details for a fun evening with his  daughter-my poor, tattered heart had dropped to the floor.

I knew those names.

Hell, at one point in my life, those names had been synonymous with my family.

Remy had been the man I was going to marry and spend the rest of my life  with, and his sister Winnie had been one of my very best friends.

Fresh tears pricked my eyes as it all hit me all over again.

The shock of reading the names. The hopeful, desperate clamor to see if  the text had, in fact, come from Nick's phone or some ghost of love  lives past. The harsh reality of what I didn't want to face.

I'd panicked, the complication of it all nearly knocking me off my feet,  and then, like a total asshole, made up some lame excuse about feeling  ill to avoid meeting his daughter.

It had been a shitty thing to do.

Cowardly? Yeah, that too.         

     



 

I knew it had been both, but it had also been a split-second decision made out of fear.

So, I'd spent the majority of my Friday night internally questioning everything and arguing with myself.

Had I overreacted? Was it a mere coincidence that Lexi's mother's name  was Winnie and she just so happened to have a brother with the same name  as my ex-fiancé?

Maybe they just had the same first names? That kind of thing happened, right?

It had been that thought process that led me toward stalking. Social media stalking, that is.

God, it had been years since I'd even attempted to look up Remy on  Facebook, but this giant clusterfuck of a situation had been my breaking  point.

Remy Winslow. I'd typed his name into the search browser, and like a  hammer to the last nail in my coffin, his profile picture sealed my  misery.

Him and a little girl.

And the little girl? Lexi. I'd known the instant I'd seen her big, blue  eyes and smiling cheeks. I'd seen that same expression and adorable face  before, in a photo of her and Nick that sat framed in his living room.

Like a masochist, I'd clicked Remy's profile to scour it for every  wretched detail I could find. More pictures of him and Lexi, her name  even mentioned in the status of each one. More conversations and traded  barbs with his other three brothers. More of the life I walked away  from.

From there, I'd been sucked into an unforgiving vortex unsafe for travel by heartbroken humans.

Remy's profile had led me to Winnie's, which had led me to Nick's. And  one photo in particular, shared between both profiles, was a picture of  Lexi standing between Winnie and Nick, with a trophy from her Mathletes  competition clutched in her little hands.

I'd been able to deny it before, but I'd never be able to again. All of my fears had been confirmed.

Winnie, someone who so many years ago had been one of my best friends,  was Lexi's mom, and her brother was the man I'd left at the altar over  twelve years ago.

And the kicker? The man I was in love with was connected to them both,  through a little girl that was literally the apple of his eye.

I honestly wasn't sure where we could go after that. The future looked dismal at best.

How could Nick be in a long-term relationship with a woman who most likely had zero fans within the Winslow family?

I knew it'd been a struggle for him when it came to Lexi. That he'd made  mistakes in the past, putting his career before his daughter, and it  was just over the last few years that he'd really stepped up and become a  strong father figure in her life.

With the way Remy and I had ended, I had a hard time believing his  sister would even want me in her daughter's life. Honestly, I thought  she'd probably have a really hard fucking time with it.

And if I was being truly honest with myself, I wasn't all that thrilled  over the idea of having to see Remy on a more than never basis. Over the  years, I'd found closure from that relationship, but it still didn't  take away the scars from the way he'd lashed out at me, the awful things  he'd said to me when everything had ended.

Sure, his feelings had been valid. But it still didn't change the fact  that his bitter words had left a pretty nasty slash in my heart.

God, this was a fucking mess.

I startled out of my incessant, warring thoughts when my phone vibrated in my hands.



Nick: Char? Are you there?



Another text. Shit. I had to answer him at some point or else he'd end  up at my apartment. And honestly, I wasn't so sure I was ready for that  conversation.

I walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. My teeth worried  along my lip as I contemplated what was the best route of message  response.



Me: I'm here. Sorry. I was in the bathroom. I have diarrhea.



That's a bit gross, Char, I thought to myself, and instead of hitting send, I deleted it and tried again.



Me: I know your ex. And her brother. Remy was the man I left at the altar. Everything is completely fucked and doomed, isn't it?



Jesus. Even the diarrhea text was better than that rambling diatribe of nonsense.

I deleted that one too and settled on something a little less crazy.



Me: Sorry, my phone was on silent. I'm still on the mend, but doing okay.