Page 127 of The Pact
He shakes his head. “I’m okay.”
Sometimes Remy needs to process his feelings before he talks to either Saint or me. But we’ll check in with him again before bed.
And maybe, he just needs to feel loved and safe right now.
Rhyan pats my face lightly to bring my attention back to her. “Where’s your dress?”
Saint blinks. “What?”
“To the wedding,” she says. “You’re not wearing a dress.”
I press my lips together.
Saint gestures for me to explain.
“I already wore a dress,” I say quickly.
“We couldn’t come?” she asks.
“Well, it was something”—I look at Saint for help, but he just shrugs—“we had planned to do, but we’re thinking about having a little party to celebrate soon.”
“I need a dress then.”
“Okay, we can get you a dress for that if we have one.”
She considers it. “A sparkly one.”
“Definitely.”
“And cake?”
Saint nods. “There would be cake.”
She thinks about it, then nods. “Okay, I accept.”
Remy smiles.
And that … feels like a win.
“I’m glad you accept,” he says. “There is something else.”
Remy stiffens.
I hate that he’s on guard now for serious conversations.
“We’re going to go visit your grandpa and grandma Hart soon in North Carolina.”
Remy looks down. “I don’t want to go.”
Saint’s face softens.
“Why not, bud?” Saint asks.
“It reminds me … ” Remy says, voice small.
I watch him closely and see tears forming in his eyes.
“It reminds me of mom and dad,” he whispers. “When we found out.”
