A couple of months ago, I had no one. Nothing but an empty existence.
Now, sitting here with two people who don't think the worst of me . . . well, it feels like I've won the fucking lottery.
Holding Remi against me, I turn back to Campbell. Now with all that said and done, I think we can finally start putting it behind us.
“It's good to see you, too. So, you have a family now?”
A goofy smile pulls at his lips, one that I remember from when we were younger.
“Yeah, Jasmine and I got married about five years ago. We have two little girls.”
“That's . . . that's great. Congrats.”
He smiles. “Thanks.”
I try to imagine him as a father, doting on two little humans, him taking them to play-dates and whatnot, but I just can't see it. He was someone that couldn't stand little kids. And I think he even said at one point that he'd never have any.
The look of pure adoration on his face as he thinks of his family paints a different picture, though. A picture of a Campbell that I no longer know. But one that I would like to.
He starts telling me a little bit more about them, what his wife does and how old his daughters are, but as much as I try to push it away, a bitterness sweeps through me when I think of the fact that I'll probably never experience that feeling he has for his family.
How could I ever bring a child into this fucked up life of being ostracized and black-listed?
That's yet another reason why I really need to set Remi free. My throat tightens, almost suffocating me.
More time. I just want a little bit more time.
Squeezing her tighter to me, I shove those thoughts to the side for now and work at getting to know my old friend again instead.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
After a few hours, we say goodbye to Campbell, who walks down the beach to spend the night at Remi's place while she stays at mine. We'll meet up with him again in the morning for breakfast.
I have a lot of questions for Remi, like how she found out about him and how she knew where he lived, but when we step inside my house, she makes a beeline for the kitchen.
“Hey, you left your milk out.”
She makes a move to put away both the milk and the bread still sitting on the counter from when I got home. I had totally forgotten about it after she and Campbell arrived earlier.
“Wait . . . I'm not entirely sure it isn't poisoned or something.”
“What? Why?”
I don't really want to get into the story about my humiliation at the store, but she has a way of making the words come out with just a look from her pretty eyes that look more brown tonight.
Indignation covers her face as I tell her about the refusal to serve me at the store, but when I tell her about the redhead, it morphs into a smile.
She puts the milk away and walks over to me, stopping when she's barely an inch in front of me.
“It's not poisoned.”
“No?”
“No. The redhead was Tahnee, and she's my friend.” Then, sliding her hand up to my chest and resting it above my heart, she adds, “And she's on your side, too.”
“Really?” I ask with skepticism. “How did that happen?”
Moving the hand that was resting over my heart around to my back, she leans into me for a hug. “I told her the truth. I had to convince her a little, but she thought it over and believed me.”