Dr. Neurotic(33)

So I'd done my part, growing my beard-something the now emotionally  hollow version of me didn't mind at all-and I'd shown up tonight despite  not wanting to.

It'd almost been three months since Charlotte and I broke up, and no matter how much I wished for it, it never got easier.

My life felt like a fuse, burning along on its way to a bomb-my episodes of the show.

Scott's were airing now, and after watching a fair number of them, I knew I was fucked.

Just like they'd caught Will sneaking into an on call room with a nurse,  I knew they'd have footage of Charlotte and me, and I knew at least  some of it would place us in compromising positions.

Once it was in the national spotlight, there'd be no avoiding the  consequences of her past with Remy and the fallout of what he and Winnie  might feel as a result.

Speaking of …

"Hey, Win," I greeted, careful to keep my hands firmly off of her in all  aspects as Wes looked on from behind. He'd settled into a peaceful  observance of me on most days, but I had a feeling he wouldn't like a  visual reminder of a time when I'd had my hands all over his now  wife-graciously trusting person or not.

If it were me, with Charlotte, I knew I wouldn't.

Honestly, that was the twisted part. One of the hardest things of the  whole breakup for me had been my inability to stop picturing her with  Remy. Every time I saw him, I felt irrationally jealous and territorial.  The woman wasn't his anymore, hadn't been for a long time-in fact, that  was the actual issue-and she certainly wasn't mine. Still, it burned.         

     



 

"Dr. Nick Raines," she said with a smile. "You're looking just about as miserable as ever."

I smiled dryly. "Thanks."

"I just thought you'd cheer up at some point. This is bordering on  ridiculous. I'm wondering what kind of charms this mystery ex-girlfriend  held to keep you so wrapped up."

I bit my lip and shook my head instead of getting into it.

I didn't have anything sturdy enough to clean up that can of worms.

Not only was it never good to tell the woman it didn't work out with all  the things you liked about the one with which you wished it did, it  really wasn't a good idea to get into anything specific about Charlotte.  Lord only knew what Winnie remembered from back then.

"Listen," I said, my brain bleeding the blood my heart was furiously  beating through it as I thought about what I was about to ask. It was  quite possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever considered doing, and yet,  here I was doing it.

Winnie moved in a little closer as I lowered my voice, her eyes openly curious and assessing.

"What happened with Remy and his fiancé?"

Her head jerked as she registered what I was asking. Panic parachuted directly into my veins.

"His fiancé …  How did you …  How do you know about that?"

I shrugged, doing my best to play off one of the least casual things I'd ever brought up, casually. Ironic.

"I just … I heard it. It opens some new perspectives on him for me, so … I'm curious."

Winnie's clever eyes were sharp on my face, but they didn't seem knowing. Just interested.

She sighed. "She left the night before the wedding and never looked back."

I chewed at the inside of my lip and hoped she couldn't tell. "And so you hate her," I surmised.

Her melodic laugh was completely unexpected, but it cut off quickly as  she shook her head. "You'd think. Given the circumstances and how much I  love Remy … how much he's done for me and Lex." Her eyes went soft, and I  nodded.

I knew he'd been there when I wasn't.

"But Remy told me some things a couple of years after." She shook her  head. "He was drunk, but he was tortured. And completely guilty."

"Guilty?" I asked, surprised. Charlotte had always taken all the blame.  She'd never said anything to plead her case or ease her mistake. She'd  just taken responsibility.

Winnie nodded. "She was young, had just graduated college. And she'd  gotten a job offer. A big job offer in California. Remy could have gone  along with her, his job was flexible enough for it, but he told her he  wouldn't go. Basically, gave her an ultimatum. Him or the job."

She sighed. "At twenty-two, with the way he'd given her no choice?" Her  voice was soft and forgiving. "I'd have taken the job too."

She grabbed my shoulder and shook me slightly to free me from my  thoughts; I knew I had to look torturously introspective. But she didn't  mention it.

I watched woodenly as she walked away, the sound of Charlotte's crazy laugh ringing in my ears with every step Winnie took.

Winnie was my past; Lexi was my present.

I desperately wanted Charlotte to be a part of the future.





There was nothing worse than going grocery shopping on a Sunday  afternoon when everyone in the entire world was there. The aisles were  packed. And the checkout lanes looked like the cashiers would never get  through all of the customers without having a nervous breakdown or just  up and quitting in the middle of their shift.

This was what happened when you were a procrastinator on anything and everything related to daily adult responsibilities.

I pushed my cart to the produce section, weaving in and out of the crowd  until I reached the fruit. I glanced down at the items left on my list.



Milk

Bread

Eggs

Turkey

Oreos

M&Ms

Bananas

Apples

Grapes



With my eyes on the prize, the prize being an escape from the insanity  that was Sunday grocery shopping, I snagged a plastic produce bag from  the dispenser and started feeling up all the apples until I found a few  that met my high standards-firm, colorful, and barely any brown spots.

As I reached for apple number four, my gaze locked with the most  familiar blue eyes. I knew those eyes. They'd once brought me all the  happiness in the world, until everything had fallen apart, and they'd  left me feeling like an empty, heartbroken mess.

"Char?" Remy stared back at me, his hand paused mid-reach toward the bananas.

Holy shit.

And at that very moment, my hands decided it was the perfect time to  forget how to work. I dropped my produce bag with a thud, and my coveted  apples scattered across the tile floor.         

     



 

"Shit," I muttered and bent down to pick up the fruit before someone tripped or ran over them with their cart.

As I reached for the last one sitting below the cartons holding the  pineapples, Remy's face came into view again, his gaze locked with mine  as he picked up my apple and set it back into my produce bag.

"Thanks," I said, and we both stood up from our crouched positions.

He offered a soft smile. "It's been a long time, Charlotte."

"It has." I nodded and fidgeted with the plastic bag in my hands. "How are you, Remy?"

"I'm good. How are you?"

Cripes, this was awkward. It was like neither of us knew what to say, even though we each had a million things we wanted to say.

"I'm good."

"So, you're back-" he started to ask, while I simultaneously said, "It's good to see you."

"Shit. Sorry." I laughed nervously, and he smiled.

"So, you're back in New York?"

"Yep," I answered. "I moved back permanently this past year."

"Still with the same job?"

"Uh-huh. Still working for CMI."

"That's good."

"Thanks," I said for lack of anything better to say. It wasn't easy  seeing your ex-fiancé in general, much less in the middle of the produce  aisle at the grocery store. Eventually, I found a good topic to  hopefully mix things up from our new pattern of using the word good  every thirty seconds. "So, how's Winnie?"

He slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. "She's good."

"That's good to hear."

Fucking hell. How many times had we said the word good in the span of five minutes?

The count had to be up to fifty by this point.

"She's really happy. Married," he added. "And has a little girl that I adore."

"I'm so glad to hear that." I smiled even though I already knew those  things. The idea of Winnie happy made me happy. Even though I'd lost  contact with her once Remy and I had split, I still cared about her.  She'd been a huge part of my life when I was with her brother.

"And I bet you're an awesome uncle."

"Of course I am," he teased. If there was one thing about Remy that I  loved, it was his sense of humor. He'd given me so many funny memories  during our relationship.

"Always with the ego," I joked back, and he laughed.

We stared at one another for a quiet moment, until I admitted, "It's  really good to see you, Rem." It was the truth. It felt good to see him  smile and laugh. I guess it simply felt good to see him. To feel that he  was doing okay.

I was honestly surprised by that reaction. Sure, I'd gained closure and  moved on over the past twelve years, but there had always been that  underlying discomfort related to just the sound of his name.

"It's really good to see you too, Char."