Perfect Together by Kristen Ashley

“This problem would be?” Guillaume prompted.

Remy hesitated.

His mother had always been his mother, and as such, his attempt at trying to have an important and long overdue conversation with her had the results it had.

But his father had always been his dad, this visit had been the worst on him, and Remy had told Wyn that at the very least from their time in NOLA, he wanted to figure shit out with his father.

It was time to figure that shit out.

“The woman I was with between leaving Wyn and finding her again is causing problems. She’s targeted Sah, and yesterday, she broke into our house and was caught by the police in Wyn’s closet, filling garbage bags with her things.”

The color drained from Guillaume’s face.

“She was caught, Papa,” Remy said gently. “I have a friend who’s a cop who’s helping out, and I have a plan for when I get home to deal with it.”

He could see his father was getting angry now, not at Remy, at Myrna.

“That plan would be?” he asked.

“I’m going to speak to her. I’m going to accept the responsibility I hold in hurting her and not communicating well with her, and I’m going to ask her to leave us alone.”

“Do you think this will work?” Guillaume queried with open disbelief. “I don’t have to tell you her behavior is extreme, fiston.”

“I’ve no idea. I just know it’s the right thing to do.”

“What did she do to Sabre?”

He wanted to share this less than the other, but he didn’t hesitate before he gave it to his dad.

“Sah liked her, more than Manon and Yves, who both weren’t big fans. She knew that, so she tracked him down and told him I got her pregnant and kicked her out because she wouldn’t get an abortion, none of which, obviously, was true.”

“Mon Dieu!”

Definitely pissed now.

“Dad, it’s going to get handled one way or another.”

Guillaume shook his head. “I do not understand what is becoming of this world.”

Which meant none of his father’s mistresses had behaved so badly, or they’d been easy to manage if they tried.

Remy didn’t go there.

“Do you need anything from me?” Guillaume asked.

He shook his head. “No, Dad. But thank you.”

Guillaume nodded.

Remy went for it.

“I chose poorly,” he admitted.

Guillaume tilted his head, his gaze growing soft, and he replied, “Fiston, we, none of us know the demons that plague a soul. Their purpose is to stay hidden and wreak havoc on the ones who love their host the most. I think you and I, and Wyn, we all know this.”

He clapped a hand on Remy’s shoulder and left it there before he continued.

“Now you have glimpsed this woman’s demons, and you’ve made the decision to treat her like she is as the rest of us are in one way or another, driven by invisible demons to do harm. And you intend to offer compassion.” He squeezed Remy’s shoulder. “Honestly, except for when I learned you and Wyn were reconciling, I’ve never been prouder. And, son, you have, over your years, given me many reasons to be proud.”

Remy held his father’s gaze, pushing aside the recent memory of his talk with his mother, pushing aside all the shit that was going down with Myrna, pushing aside how his family was getting dragged through it right along with him, and rooting himself in that moment.

Eyes locked to his boy, Guillaume knew the exact time to stop holding Remy by the shoulder and instead, tug his son into his arms and hold him a different way.

It was not lost on Remy that he’d held Sah in the exact same manner not too long ago when emotion had overwhelmed his boy.

It was just the first time in his life that he felt what Sah felt.

And fuck.

It was beautiful.





CHAPTER 30





Deserved Defeat





Wyn





“This is all kinds of fucked up.”

That was Sabre.

“We’ll leave before she’ll even be up tomorrow, Sah.”

And that was Yves.

“Yeah, because, unlike ninety-nine-point nine percent of grandparents in the world, she isn’t going to deign to drag herself out of bed to say goodbye to her only son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren before we go and, you know, before she dies.”

And that was my dramatic daughter.

“She’s asked us to meet her in the mural room before she retires to bed, something we all understand is very likely the last time any of us will see her, so we’re going to give your grandmother her wish and meet her in the mural room,” I declared.

“Who says ‘retires’?” Sah grumbled.

Colette did. Those were her words when she met us in the hall when we arrived back from taking Guillaume out for some gelato after we returned from the party at Beau and Katy’s.

We’d lingered over gelato.

It was late.

We were leaving the next morning at eight to get to the airport.

She had incurable cancer.

She needed to get to bed and so did we.

“Up and at ’em,” I prompted when none of my children moved.

They were lounging on Remy’s and my bed where they’d thrown themselves after we trooped up with excuses of using the loo and freshening up before we met Colette, but instead, we all filed in here to have an impromptu family meeting.