Slight Return
Part Thirty-Five
** Authors note: I'd like to start the story with mentioning there was some confusion somewhere about how Remy can arrive in Heartkey so quickly...let me break it down so it makes sense, as I thought I'd written it the right way but someone apparently thinks that I've gotten it wrong somewhere even though I tried to work this out in my head as best I could. Heartkey is about 2-4 hours from Bayville depending on traffic and weather. Now...Rogue and Wanda are eating dinner somewhere about 5pm to 6pm, the concert roughly starts at 7pm. Meanwhile, Remy has just had sex with Rowan, who had just come home from her job somewhere after 6pm. By around 7pm, he is having sex, is thrown out of the house. By seven thirty he is standing in under the alcove of a movie theatre smoking a fag. He jumps in Piotr's van at this point after learning where Rogue is, they take off to Heartkey. Rogue and Wanda return from the concert somewhere after 9.30pm by my reckoning (there was probably a warm up band, who cares, fanfic, right? lol), so somewhere between 10pm to 10.30pm, Wanda has been rejected and walks out. It is at THIS point she phones Remy, who is already on the way to Heartkey and has basically JUST gotten to the outskirts of Heartkey. By the time he arrives to the hotel I imagine it's somewhere between 10 or 15 minutes later. I spent an unbelievable amount of time trying to consider this to try and make it make sense when I wrote it, yet it still seems to be confusing. Remy was already almost there when Wanda responded, it's most likely taken him about two and a half hours to get there (faster than probably expected, Piotr probably did drive faster at times considering the situation). I've tried to do my best, but apparently, yet again I've failed miserably to make things understandable (a lot of people not buying a lot of details of the story lately, I guess this is why I don't make any money for writing/am not a professional - I do this for fun lol). Anyway, I've done my best to explain it, and on to the chapter.
Rogue spun around from where she was standing at the massive window overlooking Heartkey. She'd been standing looking out at the lightning splitting the sky outside while sipping a vodka heavily diluted with a can of coke to mask the taste...she'd been calm, trying to carefully think through what had happened between Wanda and herself. At least, up until she'd heard the frustrated clicking of the key-card on the other side of the door.
At first, she'd expected that Wanda had managed to lock herself out; she'd been so clumsy before with the key-card that it wouldn't have surprised her at all. Rogue turned, trying to prepare herself for what she'd say to Wanda, how she'd somehow act like nothing had ever happened, how she'd pretend that just a little over half an hour ago, Wanda's lips had not been pressed against hers. When she turned, she hadn't expected to see Remy LeBeau bursting into the room looking frantic and wet like a drowned rat.
He stood there, dripping rain water onto the plush carpet, his black leather coat hanging off one shoulder, his chest rising and falling heavily, he sounded breathless and his eyes had that wild anxious almost terrified look about them that told her something had upset him.
It was baffling to say the least. How had he known she was there? He'd left the mansion for good before she'd even known what the plans for tonight's excursion were. And yet...there he stood, gasping for breath, soaking wet and trembling. His t-shirt so incredibly soaked that she could see the colour of his skin beneath it, his brown hair, long and unkempt, long overdue for a haircut, seemed almost as black as his eyes as it was plastered to his head.
All she could manage was a confused breathing of his name, "Remy..."
His eyes locked to her face, his expression looked hurt and bewildered. Why was he just standing there like that? Why hadn't he said anything? Why had he come all the way from Bayville to Heartkey on a Saturday night (or was it now Sunday morning? She wasn't sure any more, there weren't any clocks nearby) to stand there soaking the no doubt expensive suite carpet and not even bothering to explain himself?
She supposed if he wasn't going to offer an explanation, she should be the one to ask – no...actually demand - what he thought he was playing at. She slowly put down the glass of vodka and coke and she steadied herself a little, "Remy..." she breathed again, trying to still her nerves. Wasn't it bad enough Wanda had her feeling like a wreck? Did he intend to add to it? "What...are...you doin' here?" she asked nervously.
"What am I doin' here? What are you doin'-?" he stopped himself, he moved over hastily and picked up the glass, he sniffed it, "is this vodka?"
"Yeah...it's...hey-" Rogue gaped as he threw the contents into the potted plant in the corner.
"Are you crazy?!" Remy demanded, throwing the glass to the floor; luckily instead of smashing it simply bounced off the thick carpet before rolling away under an end table. "You don't drink on top of that kind of medication, are you tryin' to kill yourself...? Do you want to pass out again?!"
Rogue blinked, "What do you mean again?"
He's cracked, thought Rogue. He's completely just lost the plot. Maybe Ah should call the mansion...tell them to come get him and to bring a straight-jacket or somethin'...they can put him in that cell in the sub-basement. Right now, he looks kind of like he needs it.
Remy tilted his head, looking at her, "you passed out...from too much booze and dope..."
Raising an eyebrow, Rogue stared at him blankly. What was he talking about? Had he been drinking? It was hard to be sure, she could smell the booze on her own breath, but certainly none from him. "Have you been drinkin' or somethin'?" she asked, leaning forward and smelling the air in front of him. Nothing, not a whisper of alcohol as far as she was able to tell.
"Where's Wanda?" he ignored her question, sounding a little impatient, he began jogging around the suite, looking in the rooms, as if he were determined to find her.
"She's not here..." Rogue followed him confusedly, watching as he checked each bedroom, moving curtains, even looking beyond the smoked glass of the shower stall before returning to the main living area of the suite. He looked furious now, his face was red, water dripping down it as he moved.
"Where the fuck is she?" he demanded.
"Ah don't know...out for a walk she said..." Rogue admitted, trying to remain calm, trying to make sense of this behaviour of his, "to call her Dad..."
"Fuck," he snarled.
"Remy...what's goin' on?" she asked in utter confusion.
"She called me, said you were here passed out on the fucking floor, you had a bad reaction...overdosed...some bullshit! What kind of fucking game are the two of you playing here?!" he yelled. "Do you think this shit is funny?!"
Rogue stood for a moment trying to take this in, "Ah...don't know what you're talkin' about..."
"So this isn't your idea of some queer fucking joke?!" he snapped.
"Remy..." Rogue tried to stay calm, "Ah don't know what the fuck is your problem but-"
"She called me and said you were going to die..."
"When? When did she call you?!" Rogue demanded, "Ah've been with her all night, even when she's been in the bathroom, there's no way she called you all the way from Bayville for a joke."
"I was already on my way here, I got the call maybe ten or twenty minutes ago!" he snapped again, he seemed to be struggling to restrain himself, "I was here to...I was trying to-" he stopped himself, he took a deep breath, "I was trying to stop you getting hurt, she's a fucking maniac and she-"
"She's my friend," Rogue spat.
"Your friend?! She's trying to fuck with your head, and mine."
Rogue stared at him, "she wouldn't hurt anyone, Remy. Not any more..."
Rogue gazed at Remy for a moment, and then slowly around the hotel suite, realisation beginning to dawn on her like the sunrise lights the dark. Wanda had sent him here...she'd left the room upset...rejected, and sent Remy LeBeau here. She'd sent the boy Rogue had told her she was still madly in love with.
"You have no idea what you're talkin' about..." Remy shook his head in disgust with her.
"Neither do you," Rogue pointed out.
"Wanda is dangerous, you know that...she hurt me, god only knows what the fuck she'd do to someone like you-" Remy tried to warn.
"Someone like me?!" Rogue demanded, "What's that meant to mean?"
"You're still so...so fragile," Remy managed, "You're so easy to break, Rogue, and she's tryin' to break you-"
"Tryin' to break me?!" Rogue interrupted him quickly, "Why the fuck do you think she asked you out here, Remy? You think this is a joke!?" she gestured to him, "look around you, Remy, look at where we are."
Remy took a moment, looking around the hotel room, taking in the plush surroundings, expensive furniture and impressive view of town. He didn't seem as impressed as she had been, he was probably too angry for that she decided.
"She sent you to me for a reason," Rogue rolled her eyes, "she thought she was bein' charitable..." she moved away and went to the mini bar to pour herself a drink, there wasn't a lot to choose from in there...just mainly whiskey now. She wasn't sure she was even in the mood to drink any more tonight now but it just felt like she needed to be doing something other than standing there.
"Charitable?" he asked with a snort, "how-?"
"Because she thought if she put us together in a room, maybe somethin' would happen...that it'd make up for what she did to us..."
Remy looked almost horrified at the thought, "that's supposed to make it better?" he demanded, "the girl rapes me and then thinks she's going to just pimp me off to her friend to make herself feel better? Some kind of fucked up apology after she practically tried to kill you?!"
Rogue's stomach fluttered a little, she supposed if she had been Remy, she would have seen it that way too. As it was, Remy hadn't lived through the devastation of dark emotion that was hand in hand with coming through the other end of Magneto's evolution process. He would never be capable of really understanding Wanda's past actions because he had lived through them on the wrong end, forgotten much of it and hadn't experienced the emotions on her side or Rogue's.
Nothing Rogue could say would be able to tell Remy any differently, it wasn't worth trying to argue now. She didn't even want to argue. She hadn't asked for this; the sentiment was lovely, but flowers with a sorry card would have probably been more appropriate and less devastating than sending a delivery of a wild and confused Remy to her doorstep.
Wanda had tried to do something nice...and right now, it was blowing up in Rogue's face. She understood the sacrifice, but it wasn't so much a gift as accidentally setting a paper bag of dog-shit on fire and ringing the doorbell and running. Now Rogue was left with the aftermath, she not only had to put the fire out, but she'd probably be scraping the shit off of her shoes for weeks.
"Ah didn't ask for this," Rogue tried to admit calmly. Which didn't seem to help.
"And I did?!" he demanded insolently, "christ, Rogue...I thought you were dying...this is sick, that girl is sick!"
"She's not sick..." Rogue replied, but arguing the point was useless, Remy didn't care. He moved to the couch and sat there, rubbing his head, she watched him carefully, she was worried he may be about to take some kind of breakdown. The signs were all certainly there.
"I thought you were dying," he uttered. "I thought you needed me."
Rogue tilted her head, remembering the letter, how he had left. He hadn't cared about her needing him when he'd packed and left to go live with his girlfriend, had he? "Ah don't," she replied quietly, beginning to realise just how true it was.
He raised his head slowly, eyes searching hers for a moment.
"Ah'm nineteen now, Remy," Rogue responded, "Ah...don't need you to save me...to fight my battles...to protect me..." she moved her gaze away from him, it hurt too much to look at him; she wasn't sure if that was because she still wanted him, or because, after all that had happened, she also didn't want him any more. Her feelings seemed to be sitting on the two sides of a spinning coin. She wanted it to stop so she would know how to feel but it didn't seem intent on stopping any time soon.
"But-" he tried.
"You were a habit with me, Remy," Rogue looked down at him, "A habit Ah wasn't sure Ah could kick. For months Ah've been on detox gettin' you out of my system...for the past month Ah've been lookin' at you like this giant fucking pill of temptation, like a lethal injection that was gonna put me right back to where Ah was..." she explained.
"Rogue..." he tried again, his voice was strained, his expression hard.
"You were just a stupid fucking habit that now Ah know Ah can do without. You're right...everyone else is right. Ah have to move on...and movin' on means I gotta do this on my own, Ah don't need you there to get me through it."
"I-" Remy was about to begin, with what Rogue wasn't particularly sure. He stopped when a phone ringing broke his thoughts. Sighing, he took his phone from his pocket and without even looking it he spoke, "Pete, everything is fine-" he began.
Piotr...Piotr must know...maybe he brought him here? Rogue thought as she closed the mini bar without getting a drink. It didn't matter if she drank or not now, she was going to be sober regardless; there wasn't enough drink in there to blot out this night.
"Rowan..." Remy suddenly blurted.
Rogue turned to look at him, he looked almost alarmed, nervous, he shifted in the seat for a moment before getting up, pacing a little as he listened. Rogue thought it ridiculous, couldn't he go anywhere without getting text messages or phone calls from this woman? She'd been seeing it happen since the moment she'd returned; wasn't he allowed out without having to answer to her? Was she that possessive?
What do Ah care now anyway, it's like Ah said, Ah'm movin' on without him, Ah don't need him, Ah don't need to care about how he lives his life or lets it be lived.
"I—no...I didn't get any calls...I've been on the road...listen I'm real sor-" Remy was saying. Rogue couldn't hear Rowan's end of the conversation, she could only vaguely hear the buzz of her voice from the other end of the line. Rowan had interrupted him before he could say sorry for something. Sorry for what? Rogue had a feeling she'd never really know. "Really?" Remy asked shakily.
Rogue watched Remy's face go through a multitude of expressions, from confused, to hurt and then, very quickly, to devastated. As tan as he was, his face seemed to go ashen immediately, his lips quivered.
"When?" he asked of Rowan, his voice thick, he ran a hand through his soaking hair, his eyes looked vacant and glassy for a moment as he listened. Briefly, he glanced towards Rogue, looking embarrassed and caught like a deer in the headlights, he turned quickly, trying to hide whatever was upsetting him. He spoke to his girlfriend again, voice soft and unhappy, "I...okay..." There was a soft beep as he hung up the phone, he gave a deep resonant sigh, "I...I really gotta go..."
"Is everythin' okay?" Rogue asked, hearing the strain in his voice, the way it almost seemed to break in the middle of words.
"I..." Remy swallowed, "Just somethin' came up...I have to go."
Rogue blinked, "Remy...are you okay? You look...freaked out..."
"I'm sorry," he stammered, somewhere between nervous and frantic, "I should have never come here..." he headed for the door, gripping his phone, his pace almost unsteady; he stopped at the threshold, he hadn't even closed the door when he'd come in. He stood there for a moment, as if trying to catch his breath, he glanced only a little over his shoulder towards her and spoke, his voice cut and thick, "happy birthday, chere," was all he said, and then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone.
Rose Knightly had gone into heart failure a little after seven thirty pm and died a little over an hour and a half after that. Hearing the news over the phone from Rowan had felt like a blow to the gut for Remy LeBeau, who had never had to deal with the death of anyone close to him before.
Piotr had only just managed to find a place to pull the van over when Remy emerged from the hotel still soaking wet and stunned from the phone call he'd received up in the suite. Remy opened the door and climbed in without a word, dazed, bewildered and hurt.
"Is everything all right? Is she-?" Piotr began, hesitating.
"Rogue is fine..." Remy managed, it hurt to talk, he had to keep swallowing, it felt like the words kept catching in his throat as if they were fish bones.
"Then what-?" Piotr began confusedly.
"Wanda was playin' a prank..." Remy swept his hair from his face, he stared at the road ahead, "take us home..."
"I am not a taxi service," Piotr almost snapped, "I have come all the way to Heartkey to drive you here for you to tell me that everything is fine and now-"
"Look, I just found out a friend of mine had a fucking heartattack and died a few hours ago. I could do without all the fucking judgement, okay!?" Remy snapped back.
Piotr stared at him blankly for a moment, his cheeks seemed to go quite pink, "a...friend-?"
"No one you know," Remy pulled on his seatbelt. He didn't feel like talking about it, he'd only made the revelation to shut Piotr up, he'd known it would. Piotr was sensitive like that, it was all he needed to know. "Just drive us back. Please."
Piotr made no attempts to start an argument.
The drive back to Bayville was much much longer than it had taken to get from there. The traffic was heavy on the way back due to the people who had driven there just for the concert; Remy recognised a few distinct haircuts through car windows as the same he'd seen on the streets trying to reach the hotel. A lot of the cars were crossing through Bayview to get to Bayville probably intent on passing through it to get to New York, it was the quickest route from here.
Remy felt strangely blank on the way, he wouldn't allow himself to think about Rose, wouldn't let himself feel devastated by the death of a woman he had nicknamed grandma, wouldn't let himself feel almost as destroyed by it as if she were his grandmother. On the road, it was easy to ignore one's problems by listening to the radio, by counting cars, by watching the sun beginning to rise beyond the forest lining the highway.
It wasn't until they had almost completely passed through Bayview the numbness began to lift and the shock began to wear off and he started to think about it. He recalled Rowan's side of the conversation. She'd tried to call him several times about Rose...it was probably the only reason she had considering how angry she had still sounded on the phone.
Rowan had explained how she'd been called into work when the event had taken place because she was senior on the staff, and Rose had no next of kin. She'd been compelled to go to Bayville General Hospital with Rose, someone had to be there. Remy remembered clearly how Rowan said she'd tried to make several calls, she'd texted him demanding he call her immediately. He'd had to lie and say he hadn't gotten them.
The deathblow of it all had been when Rowan had told him that Rose had an hour and a half later. Now, as he sat there in the passengers seat of Piotr's van feeling sleepy and dull, he couldn't help but realise if he'd taken that first call when it had come, if he'd answered Rowan when she'd first called his phone...he might have made it to the hospital in time to see Rose once more.
Instead, where had he been? On the road, desperate to get to Rogue, afraid she'd be killed by Wanda, afraid something would go wrong. Instead he should have probably been worrying about Rose, who he hadn't made enough effort to see since he and Rogue had been labelled terrorists and become notorious in town.
Should have made more effort, god, why didn't I make more fucking effort?! He demanded of himself, watching as the van drove its way steadily past the 'Welcome to Bayville Sign'; someone had spray-painted over the 'Bay' part of the town name in thick black and in white had replaced the word with 'Mutant'.
Welcome to Mutantville, Remy thought dully, he looked at the sign in the wing mirror and sighed deeply.
"Where does Rowan live?" Piotr asked.
Remy winced, he didn't want to go back there but what choice did he have now? He couldn't go back to the mansion after lying all night about Rowan. He'd not said a single thing about having been thrown out, how could he suddenly make a revelation like that now? No, the best thing was to just go to what was now supposed to be home and face the music.
Remy reeled off the address, not even sure if he said it right or not, his mind was too locked up in what had happened in Heartkey and the thought that if he hadn't been so caught up, not only would that have not happened (for he could have made more effort to stop Rogue before she'd gone), but he may have been there for Rose before she had passed away.
It seemed almost no time at all that Piotr was parking the white transit right outside of Rowan's building; Remy felt a strange finality about it. He felt like a child being dropped off for boarding school, or like...a young man about to be drafted to the army.
Yes, it was exactly how he felt...like he was being sent away.
Only he was the one who had sent himself away. He'd alienated himself from everyone...he didn't even have Rogue to turn to now.
When he'd heard the crushing news about Rose, all he'd thought was that he'd wanted comfort. The only one he'd wanted to comfort him was Rogue; if anyone knew misery, if anyone knew how to console it, it would be her. She was smaller, lighter and she looked more fragile than him, but to be held in her frighteningly strong arms at that moment would have left him feeling safer and more comforted than anything else in the world would have.
Now those arms would be reserved for Piotr. Remy supposed it was fitting, he was the only good guy here. Rogue needed someone good, dependable, trustworthy. Someone who wasn't selfish.
"Will you be all right?" Piotr asked softly.
Remy shrugged, "gotta be, don't I?"
"No, you don't," Piotr frowned a little.
Remy reached for the door, "thanks for the ride, Pete."
"You know you can always call...if you need."
Offer aside, Remy wasn't sure he could any more. All the same, he gave a slow nod of understanding and climbed out; he stopped momentarily, "take care of Rogue," he advised, "she deserves to be taken care of."
Piotr raised an eyebrow, "I...will," he promised.
With this, Remy turned and pushed the main door into the building open and made his way inside. Each step up to the Rowan's floor seemed far steeper than he remembered them being. Perhaps it was partly exhaustion or perhaps it was just that he was waking further and further towards an awkward fate. His body felt heavy, legs like lead, head swimming, body cold from the rain that had soaked through his clothes and kept them wet this entire time.
He stood at Rowan's door for a moment, looking at it. It wasn't just her door any more, was it? It was his door too. That was...if she'd take him back, if she'd forgive him for this one mistake. He wasn't sure he deserved to be forgiven though, even if he wasn't sure he'd really done something terribly wrong. He'd been more faithful to her than he'd been to anyone in his entire life, he'd never strayed outside of the relationship once. But still, he felt like a cheater who was about to be met with a frying pan in the face.
He didn't have the key with him, he'd been thrown out naked and had barely even managed to grab his bag. He realised he'd left the bag in Piotr's van. He winced, he supposed that meant he'd have no clean clothes then, although at least, should things not work out this morning, he'd have an excuse to go back to the mansion to collect them.
No, I'm not goin' back any time soon, I made my bed, better lie in it, Remy decided flatly as he gave three light taps on the door.
He almost wished that Rowan hadn't heard the knocks. The thought he might sleep in the hall, which while there was nothing to sit upon other than the floor, wasn't completely unappealing as a last resort. But Rowan did hear his knocking, and to his regret, she did answer.
She stood there, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her t-shirt and jogging pants slightly creased. She didn't look sleepy; she hadn't probably slept yet either. She looked up at him, displeased and conflicted, and slightly spaced from tiredness.
Rowan hadn't said he should return and he hadn't suggested he would, but here he stood, and neither seemed to be particularly sure what to do or say next. Rowan simply sighed, she moved away from the door and let him walk in; not a single word escaped her pretty lips.
Remy stepped inside, he heard her close the door behind him. He supposed he should be the first to speak, there were a thousand questions burning on his mind right at that moment, but the most important one right now burned brighter than the fire of the sun, "did she feel any pain?"
"No," Rowan said quietly, her voice was thick with her own upset. She may have not been overly attached to the woman, but Remy supposed dealing with death was never easy regardless of your job or who you were.
Remy wondered if he'd felt more secure if Rowan had been stoic to the situation, if Rose had been just a number, a statistic.
"She was unconscious at the end, she didn't feel a thing," Rowan moved to the couch and sat on the armrest. "Where were you?"
"I ran into a friend...he was heading to his place up in Heartkey, I was gonna stay there," Remy lied. He kicked himself, why couldn't he be honest? Why did he keep piling on lie after lie after lie? He had become a compulsive liar to make life easier.
Only life didn't seem to be any easier regardless.
"So that's it," Rowan smacked her hands against her thighs frustratedly, "you were just gonna up and go to Heartkey...go stay with some guy and pretend like nothing ever happened here."
"No," Remy said, "I just...thought you'd want space away from me."
"I didn't want space, Remy. I wanted an explanation."
"What do you want me to say?" he asked quietly, "I was caught in the moment, her name popped into my head for some stupid reason..."
"Oh please, you expect me to believe that?" Rowan turned and looked away, her eyes hurt, "I saw the look on your face, you were in the moment all right, but you were thinking about her..."
"I was thinkin' about you," Remy looked down at her, "how...beautiful you are...how soft you are, how you feel and taste...it ain't my fault your names sound similar...I meant to shout your name...I did..."
"Right..." Rowan snorted, she stood up and moved to the kitchen counter.
"Look...it was one mistake...it doesn't mean we should fuck things up, right? We...have a good thing here, you and I..." he pointed out.
"Do we?" Rowan snapped, "I have a good thing going here, I'm not sure what you have! So far, you've brought pretty much nothing with you. What I am to you, a meal ticket?"
"No!" he blurted, "Why would you even think that?!"
"You run off to Heartkey with some friend you just happen to run into and you think I'm going to take that well?!"
"I had no where else to go!" Remy snapped.
"Exactly," Rowan gestured towards him, "nowhere to go, no set rules, no ties," she snarled, "I was all but ready to work my ass off to support us both here until you found a new job, but you scream out some other girls name, you act like I'm overreacting and you take off and skip town?!"
"I came back, didn't I?" Remy pointed out.
"Because, like you said, you had nowhere else to go. You have no house, no money..."
"It ain't like I haven't been lookin' for work, Rowan. There ain't anythin' out there for me...ain't any money I can make honestly out there..."
"I don't even care about the money," Rowan's frowned, "I care that I'm pretty certain at this stage all of this is an act so you have somewhere to be."
"That's not true," he said, staring at her, "I'm here because I want to be. Because I want to build a future...with you..."
He gazed down at her, the way the orange light from the last of the sunrise made her hair seem fiery, the way her freckles stood out against her slightly sunburned skin.
Before he'd even thought about what he was saying, the words came out. It was like hearing music coming from somewhere and not realising you were singing along to it until someone turned the music off.
And just like that, he was left blurting out words he didn't know he'd said until he had heard them.
"I love you..."
Time seemed to hold still, he realised the absolute horror of what he'd said. He was sure he'd never said it before to anyone. No...wait, not quite. Hadn't he said to Rogue once? He couldn't remember how he'd said it, but he was sure somewhere in vague recollections he had the strangest sense it'd been spoken. That was why it had come so naturally from his tongue.
Rowan's eyes softened, her lips quivered a little. "You do?"
Remy wasn't particularly sure he even did, what he was sure was that he had panicked, he didn't want to drop this new life he was trying to build without trying to at least make the effort to try and make it work. His heart sank in his chest; it wasn't that he hadn't wanted to make a commitment to the girl, but this...this sealed his fate. It made it all too real.
Rowan dashed up to him and threw her arms around his neck; he caught her and almost sighed in relief. All right, so it had been the wrong thing for him to say in terms that it had been yet another lie to pile on to the bulk of them he'd already told. But for her, it'd been the right move. And who knows...maybe in a week or a month...or a year or so he'd actually feel it.
It was inevitable, right? If he spent enough time with someone, eventually he'd have to fall for them. That was probably what had happened with Rogue, that was probably why he still found himself so drawn to the girl and why it was so frustratingly difficult to completely phase out of his life.
"I love you too," Rowan breathed near his ear.
Remy closed his eyes and hugged her close, relieved for now that the fight seemed to be over.
End of Part Thirty-Five
Yep, Remy went there, he said the L word. *smacks him* Baaaaaaaaaad Remy, bad!
in the meantime, hope my time explanation makes sense. I thought it had, I try my best to write, people don't always agree, they misunderstand, or just plain hate my work. I can't please everyone I guess.
As for the angst and humiliation that the characters endure in my story that so many readers are displeased with lately, all I can say is...this is exactly why I have held off putting up the sequel to Derranged Marriage...there is angst in it, and I'm typically the kind of fanfic author who writes angst because that's what comes naturally to me (just as horror might come naturally to Stephen King, fantasy to J.K. Rowling, or tragic drama might come to Jodi Picoult...not that I'm comparing myself to their works at all). Perhaps writing angst is my outlet in some subconscious way, who knows. lol (either that or it's my subconscious's revenge for the severe neck and back pain I put myself through to write, lmao).
All I can say at this point is thanks for reading anyway, and I'm sorry that my fanfics don't completely please everyone. I appreciate the reviews nonetheless and am always interested in what people think regardless. I understand it's criticism which isn't always a bad thing. I wish I was able to write "happy" things but it just doesn't feel right when I try. The happy stuff is up to the rest of you, I deal in angst, misery, and drama, lol. Have an awesome weekend everyone, and I hope you like the chapter anyway.