35 : Seeing It

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A/N: This song kept popping into my head while editing, so now I'm going to get it stuck in yours. Also, explicit content and adult stuff. 

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I stare at Remy for what seems like an hour. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I don't know, Maggie. What you said today, I ... Fuck. Jane is beautiful and kind, but ... Dammit ..." He places a hand on his forehead. He seems so nervous and it makes me nervous for him. "I love you. I have always loved you." He drops his hand and looks at me from beneath furrowed brows. "It's not fair for me to be with someone else when all I want is a chance to make it work with you."

I gape at him. "You are insane."

"Am I?" he asks.

"I said I missed out. Why the fuck did you think that was me saying you should leave her so we can be together?" 

"Because today was the first time you have ever admitted that we weren't together because of you," he says. "Before now, it was always that we were too close, that we couldn't escape what happened in the past, that there was no way I could love you the way you needed."

With a huff, I pull him inside and close the door quietly behind us. We go into the living room and I sit, gesturing for him to do the same. He complies, still staring at me like a pitiful idiot. "Look, I've been going through some shit. I lost my job at the hospital -- yet again -- watched Penny try to leave Mickey to fucking save him from her ... It made me realize I had been just as stupid at that age, but that doesn't mean I don't want to see you be happy with someone else," I tell him. "You two are great together and we ... We know we don't work like that."

"We don't?" He raises an eyebrow in question. "Do we know for sure that after all this time, nothing has changed?"

"Yes," I sigh. "Us being anything more than friends just doesn't feel right."

"Doesn't feel right?" He places his hands on my knees. "What about that time when Gabe was still a baby? When you were so afraid to end your year-long dry spell after giving birth ... so you called me. And then you couldn't stop calling me." His hand glides up my thigh to my hip, making me warm when his fingertips dig into my skin on their way back to my knee. "I vividly remember having a great time last Thanksgiving, too. Everyone laughing downstairs while we made love over and over on your old bed ..."

"Yeah. A whole week before you started dating a twenty-six-year-old." I push his hands away. "Every time we get together it's because we're coping with some other pain. Yes, the sex is hot, but it's because it feels dirty and wrong and it fucking hurts. We try any other time and we're left crying or we can't look at each other for days," I remind him. "Sex isn't love, Remy. If you need to get laid so bad, go back to Jane."

He sighs. "We aren't ... having sex anymore." I stare at him, waiting for the punch line. "She gave me an ultimatum a couple months ago; no more sex until marriage."

"Remy," I say with a laugh. "You were going to propose because you were horny? You live in Vegas."

"I know how stupid it sounds, but that's what I'm saying. It was never about love with her," he admits. "I only went to her because you let me get close and then pushed me away. I was filling my time, hoping that you would let me in again, just like I always have and probably always will." 

"Filling your time? So, it's my fault you're a commitment-phobe?"

"Yes, technically," he retorts. "Why do you think I don't stay with anyone for longer than a few months? Why do you think my marriage fell apart?"

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