“That’s because I cooked,” Aaron said, suddenly appearing at the mouth of the hallway in a pair of jeans and a crisp baby-blue button-down. I loved a button-down more than most, but I wasn’t completely sure Aaron owned a T-shirt. He walked straight over to me and extended a hand. “How’s it going?”
Remi tucked into my side as I shook his hand. “Better now that I know I won’t have to depend on the Heimlich maneuver to enjoy my dinner.”
He chuckled and lowered his voice. “Then watch out for the garlic bread. It was frozen and from a box, but she insisted on doing it herself.”
“I am literally standing right here,” Remi complained. But then she tilted her head back to peer up at me. “But yeah, he’s right. It feels like concrete.”
Shaking my head, I asked Aaron, “You joining us for dinner?”
“Nah. I have a date.” He tried to play it cool, but he was hopeless to hide his smile.
“Nice. First date?”
“It’s actually his third,” Remi replied. “You know what that means. Be safe, double-check for consent, and don’t forget to let the lady come first. It’s just good manners.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. “And on that note, I’m out of here. Have a good one.”
“You too,” I called after him.
When the front door shut behind him, Remi released me and walked to the kitchen. “You hungry now? Or do you want a beer first?”
I followed behind her. “I’m actually starving. Oscar and I went to lunch today at a very reasonable ten thirty in the morning.”
“Ack. Why so early?” She took two plates from the cabinet and started spooning cheesy pasta onto each one.
“Who the hell knows why that man does anything? I’m having serious regrets about bringing someone else into the office. A few months ago, it made perfect sense to grow the business. But he’s a quirky one, that’s for sure.”
“Well, that sucks. Any chance you can get rid of him?” She dropped a piece of garlic bread onto each plate and the thuds they made did not bode well for my choke-free dinner. “You should be pretty set with the settlement money now, right?”
Ah, yes. The settlement money.
Financially, I was solid. I had a retirement account and investment portfolio that I’d thankfully never touched. Though the same could not be said for my savings account, credit cards, and the second mortgage I’d taken out on my house before the plane crash. Remi and I hadn’t been married when she’d been kidnapped. But she’d been mine, and if she’d needed something, I was the one who was going to give it to her.
God, had the things she’d needed added up fast after that too. Therapy. Hospital bills. Inpatient and outpatient programs. Even just her monthly bills when she’d been unable to continue working started to stack up. Then, after her first suicide attempt, there were more hospital bills, more therapy, more programs—each of which easily cost thousands of dollars a week and had to be paid whether I’d actually managed to convince her to stay the whole time or not. After the second attempt, I quit my job to help focus on her recovery.
All of my time, energy, and money were poured into that woman without the first ounce of regret.
Her father tried to help. Mark and Aaron too. And when things got tight, I allowed it. For the most part though, it was just me and Remi against the world.
For an even bigger part of it, it was Remi against herself.
I fucking hated the idea of spending a penny of the airline’s blood money. But from a financial perspective, it had enabled me to pay off debt and refill my savings account. Once again, I’d set myself up to give the woman of my dreams the life she deserved.
So, no, I hadn’t needed to take on a partner at Michaels & Company, but when I’d originally decided to open my own accounting firm, I had been drowning in misery and loss. Mourning a woman who hadn’t died but was gone for me all the same. Work was the only distraction I had, so making it as time-consuming and all-encompassing as possible was the only thing I could do in order to keep from self-destructing.
Holding two plates, she slanted her head to the side and offered me a tight smile. “Was that rude to ask? About the settlement money?”
I took both of them from her hands. “No. It’s fine. I received six hundred thousand dollars from the settlement. Most of it I put away, but after we talked the other day, you inspired me to donate to the families of the victims’ fund too.”
Her face flashed contemplatively, and she stalled for a minute before asking, “Wouldn’t it be easier to give that money to Sally’s family instead?”
Fuck. I internally groaned. As I did so often, I racked my brain to find an explanation for a lie. Turning on a toe, I carried our plates to the dining room. She’d already set up the table with napkins, silverware, and two wine glasses. An arrangement of her precious plants sat in the middle beside a bottle of wine.
