by Aly Martinez
The same roar that had been deafening me on a daily basis. Only quieting when I had Hannah secured against my side, Travis on my other side, air flowing through his lungs unhindered.
And, as of a few days ago, the same roar she had unknowingly silenced with nothing more than a simple reminder that other people were merely surviving too.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
Fuck it.
I refused to let that go.
Her body turned to stone when I moved in close, curled a hand around the back of her neck, and tilted her head so she was forced to give me her eyes.
“I have no fucking idea what’s happening here, but it’s not what you think. Do not shut down on me,” I demanded.
Her gaze locked on mine. “Step away, Mr. Reese.”
“My fucking name is Porter,” I boomed, catching her chair and spinning her to face me.
Her eyes flashed with alarm, but she didn’t respond with anger the way I so desperately needed her to. Words, I could work with. Chilly despondency, I could not.
Resting my hands on the arms of her chair, I sank to a crouch and balanced in front of her on my toes. We were eye to eye, our bodies a foot apart, but a whole world of assumptions and misunderstandings dividing us.
“I’m going to be real honest here, Charlotte.”
“Honesty? From you?” She laughed. “This should be interesting.”
I shook my head. “You’re hurt. I get it. But that doesn’t change my motives. I’m here, right here, right now, for you. Not Travis.”
“Bullshit.” She suddenly rose from the chair, giving me no choice but to move out of her way. With long strides, she began to pace the length of her office, the tail of her white coat floating behind her. “You don’t know me! A few quick internet searches and you had me pegged, huh? The poor, damaged woman you assumed you could swoop in and dazzle with your good looks and ridiculous texts.” She closed her eyes and laughed. “God, I must have looked like such a fucking fool. All that shit about the darkness, and I bought it wholly and completely. Excellent play, Porter. Bravo.” She threw her hands out to the sides before slapping them against her thighs. “Seriously, I’m impressed.”
Rising to my full height, I thundered, “It wasn’t a fucking play! For fuck’s sake, Charlotte, I didn’t look you up on the internet. I just fucking liked you and wanted to have dinner with you. Sue me, my son is sick and I can’t do one goddamn thing to change that except try to get him in with the best doctors that exist. News flash: That’s you. And yes, I’ll admit it, I showed up at the hospital to bring you lunch with every intention of asking you to treat him. But, in true father-of-the-year fashion, I forgot to do it because I was so fucking consumed by you.” Now, I was the one pacing. “You, Charlotte. Not Dr. Mills. You. So say whatever you want. But I swear on my life I have no fucking clue what your deal is.” Putting my palm to my heaving chest, I took a step toward her and lowered my voice. “But I don’t have to know in order to recognize it. The inferno burns inside me too.”
She scoffed and stabbed a finger in my direction. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t share an inferno, Porter. You wouldn’t last a day in my flames.”
A malevolent snarl lifted my lips as a flash of anger ignited me. She was right; I didn’t know what I was talking about. But neither did she. I’d promised no questions. But she was about to get a whole hell of a lot of answers.
I closed the distance between us. Her eyes widened as she scrambled away, but I didn’t stop until her back hit the wall.
Dropping my elbow to the drywall beside her head, I caged her in with my body.
And then, quick, fast, and to the point, I rained a lifetime of nightmares down on her.
“My wife drove off a bridge with both of my children in the car.”
Her whole body jerked, but I kept going.
“I was in the car behind her and got to witness every single horrifying second. So trust me, Charlotte. I’m a fucking expert at the darkness.”
“It’s not the same,” she whispered defiantly.
“I’m not saying it is. All I’m trying to do is tell you why I’m here. And why I’m not walking out of this office until you believe me.”
After turning her head away, she stared at the blank wall and muttered, “Jesus Christ, say what you need to and then leave.”
Smirking, I trailed my nose up her smooth neck. Stopping at her ear, I whispered, “Oh, you’re coming with me, Charlotte.”
Her body remained stiff even as chills pebbled her skin. “Arrogance isn’t attractive on you.”
I smiled. “Who’s lying now?”
“Talk,” she snapped.
My lips fell immediately. Clearly, I hadn’t thought this through. When she was being dismissive, the truth seemed like the only way to reach her, but now, with her body touching mine, her attitude on full display, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
But, if she thought I didn’t understand her, I needed her to know exactly how wrong she was.
“Travis was eight and my baby girl was five months old at the time…and that car was sinking with my entire life inside.” I paused when the emotion lodged in my throat. “When I got to the car, she was holding Travis.” A wave of nausea threatened to knock me on my ass, but I kept talking. “At first, I thought it was protectively, but she wouldn’t give him to me. He was frantic, kicking and flailing. And she just wouldn’t let him go.”
Her gaze snapped to mine, understanding contorting her face. “I don’t want to hear this.”
I didn’t want to relive it, either. I’d told that story exactly one other time: to the police the day of the accident. But, for reasons I’d never be able to explain, it was important to me that she heard it.
I sucked in a deep breath that I swear never made it to my lungs. “My adrenaline-riddled mind couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. So I grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her and Travis out of the window and then went to work on getting Hannah out of her car seat. By the time I hit the surface, my baby’s lips were blue. I looked around for Catherine and Travis, but they weren’t there, so I had no choice but to pass her off to a stranger who had jumped in after me and went back down in search of them.”
Charlotte’s hand curled around the back of my neck, and her body came off the wall as she pressed into me. “Stop. I believe you.”
I shook my head and stared into her dark-brown eyes, confessing, “I never came back up, Charlotte. At least, not the man I was. That was the exact moment I saw my last ray of daylight.” My fingers bit into my palms as I fisted them against the wall, the depths of that river threatening to overtake me all over again.
Her hand cradled the back of my head, her fingers threading into my hair, and our bodies became flush, head to toe. “Stay out of the darkness, Porter.”
But there was no turning back. The truth fought to escape, causing my chest to heave, and with each inhale, her body curved around mine as if she were breathing for me. And maybe she was, because I somehow found the air to admit, “She fought me.”
Her arms convulsed, and I buried my face in the delicate curve of her neck.
“She’d dragged him back into the car. By the time I got to them, he was passed out and she was barely conscious, but she fucking fought me tooth and nail when I tried to get him out of there. My wife, the woman I’d sworn to love and protect, wanted to die, and she was hell-bent on taking my son with her.” My throat closed as the memories overwhelmed me, and my body sagged against hers. “I’ve never hit a woman in my life, Charlotte. But there was nothing I didn’t do to get him from her.”
Her fingernails bit into my scalp, the twinge of physical pain doing nothing to distract me from the blast of Catherine’s betrayal.
“She was my wife and I loved her. But, as she kicked and hit at me, clinging to the doors while my son floated lifelessly in her arms, the whole fucking car going down with all of us inside, a hate
unlike anything I had ever experienced devoured me. Three years later, it still roars inside me.” Lifting my head, I cupped both sides of her face and rested my forehead on hers. “I was not playing you. I know the darkness, Charlotte. I don’t know why it lives inside you, but now, you know why it lives in me.”
It started in her eyes, slowly sifted through her features, and then fell down through her body. Brick by brick, her walls crumbled.
“I’m so sorry,” she choked out.
I brushed my lips with hers and implored her to believe me, “I didn’t ask you out so you’d treat my kid. Yes, I hoped it would happen, but that is not the why, okay?”
She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “Did your baby survive?”
“Yeah.” I swept my thumbs across her cheeks.
A strangled sigh of relief rushed from her parted lips. “And your wife?”
I swallowed hard and cut my gaze away. “No.”
After that, silence fell on the room, but we didn’t need any more words. We stood there, her back to the wall, her front plastered to mine, so close that not even the air divided us.
Two people alone in the darkness.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
Until she decided to turn on the lights.
“Losing your wife doesn’t count,” she said so quietly that I barely heard her.
“What?” I breathed, sliding my hand around her back and shifting her deeper into my curve.
“You chose to love her. You can choose to let her go.”
My hand spasmed on her lower back as my head popped up.
Those tears that had been filling her eyes finally spilled out the sides. “I never had a choice, Porter. He came out of me.”
My stomach knotted. “I didn’t tell you that so you’d open up. No questions, remember?”
She shook her head. “It was ingrained into me to love him. Morning, noon, and night And then…he was gone.” A horrible, soul-searing cry tore from her throat, slamming into me like a physical blow.
I rocked back onto my heels, but not before gathering her impossibly closer.
I held her as though I could put her back together. And, God, did I try as she sobbed in my arms.
“Lucas,” she choked out, her tears soaking the front of my shirt. “It was my fault. I left him alone at the park. It was only for a second, and someone took him. It’s been almost ten years, and I still don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”
“Oh God,” I breathed, pain gripping my chest.
“That kind of love doesn’t die, Porter. It grows in the darkness, and I can’t make it stop.”
“Okay. Okay. Shhh,” I urged, my mind barely able to formulate thoughts over the thundering of my heart. “I’ve got you.”
“You don’t understand!” she cried, attempting to push me away, but I refused to let her go.
“No. I don’t,” I assured.
She continued to writhe in my arms, but the way she gripped the back of my shirt made it clear she wasn’t trying to get away anymore. “No one fucking understands. The whole world just keeps going on without him. And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep up. I try. And I try. But I can’t do it anymore. I need it to stop, Porter.”
Cupping the back of her neck, I tucked her face against my shoulder and murmured, “I’ll stop with you. I swear to God, Charlotte. I’ll stop with you.”
She clung to me with frantic desperation. “I can’t treat your son.”
I screwed my eyes shut.
Fuck. She really couldn’t.
Shame corroded my insides. A part of me had still hoped she would.
But there were other doctors.
And only half of her.
“It’s okay,” I murmured into her hair.
“I want to. And I swear I would do it for you. But kids and me… We just don’t work. They’re all him. Every single one of them. Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. They’re all him.”
I rubbed her back. “Shhh…okay.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” I tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Fuck. Me too, Charlotte.”
She continued to apologize, and I let her because it seemed to soothe her. She didn’t owe me those.
We stood there for a long time, our pounding hearts filling the drawn-out silences. Unwilling to sit—or, really, move at all—our bodies swayed as we did our best to balance as a single unit.
She held me.
I held her.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
But the longer we stood there, the more I realized that those three things were going to be our biggest problems. With her wrapped securely in my arms, soft admissions pouring from her mouth, reality crashed onto my shoulders like a ton of bricks. I was a single father chasing a woman who couldn’t handle being in the presence of a child.
I’d never even had her, yet when she finally stepped out of my arms, I knew I’d lost her all the same.
* * *
I’d never for the rest of my life forget those moments in my office with Porter Reese.
The ones where the world finally stopped—even as it kept turning.
I had patients waiting on me, but I couldn’t care less. I’d been waiting for over a decade to take a single breath that didn’t hurt. And, no matter how much I tried to deny it, nothing hurt with Porter, not even in the darkness.
How Porter gave that to me, I wasn’t sure. He didn’t understand my situation. But he didn’t pretend to. He didn’t offer any sage words of advice or try to give me a pep talk about moving on. He just listened and held me.
He’d spoken words, I was sure of it. But those moments were all about feelings.
There was something inherently freeing about telling him about Lucas. Our situations were different, but the same shade of black painted both of our souls.
But, as I clung to him, trying to perform the impossible task of collecting myself, it hit me that the darkness was all we’d ever have.
In the light, we lived on polar-opposite ends of the spectrum.
Porter had his children. His future was in ballet recitals and baseball games. And, after hearing his story, I was happy for him. Really, I was. But I couldn’t handle being a part of that.
That was his life. Not mine.
And, when he aimed a sad smile at me and used the pads of his thumbs to dry under my eyes, I knew he realized it too.
Leave it to me to connect with a single father. I mean, seriously. Karma was sadistic.
Peering up at him, I softly asked, “So, what now?” I didn’t want the answer though.
He shrugged, but it wasn’t in indifference. It was disappointment. Heartbreakingly so. It was also real, no matter how much I wished that it weren’t.
I sighed. “At the risk of sounding like a teenage girl, I really like you.”
His face lit. “I like teenage girls.” His eyebrows pinched together as he quickly amended, “Never mind. Ignore that. It sounded way better in my head.”
Giggling, I gave him a squeeze.
He groaned as he returned it. “Any chance we can rewind to Saturday night?”
“Would it change anything?”
He tipped his head down so he could see me, his blue eyes becoming dark and serious. “No. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it again.”
My stomach fluttered. Jesus, he was such a good guy.
It was going to break me more than I already was to let him go, but I had to end it before I had the chance to beg him to stay.
“Porter, I want to. I just…” I closed my eyes and stepped out of his arms while confessing the one word that I feared was starting to dictate my life. “Can’t.”
“I know,” he replied, allowing his fingers to linger on my shoulder until I was out of his reach.
Wrapping one arm around my waist, I attempted to ward off the chill his body had left behind and choked out, “I’m s
o sorry.”
He twisted his lips—his beautiful, plump, kissable lips. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay. Seriously, I’m not that great. Trust me. You’re getting the good end of the deal.”
I barked a laugh only to start crying all over again. Pointing to my eyes, I said, “This is ridiculous. We barely know each other. You must think I’m insane.”
He chuckled, that deep, masculine sound I loved so much, and it only made the pain in my chest intensify.
“If you’re insane, Charlotte, I’m certifiable. Because this fucking sucks.”
God! The fact that he felt it too made it that much worse.
He brushed the hair off my shoulder, a tingle lighting my skin where his fingers touched. “How about this? If you ever decide you can, promise me I’ll be the first to know. I believe I owe you a kiss.”
I fought back a sigh and asked, “How old is your youngest?”
“Creeping on four.”
I hiccupped a laugh. “You’re in luck. Mills women age really well. I mean, I’m a workaholic who will probably die of a heart attack by the time I’m forty, but if I make it that long, you are in for a real treat.”
He smiled and I wanted to cry all over again.
Christ. What the hell was wrong with me?
Oh, right. The first man I’d felt anything with in as long as I could remember was walking out of my life. And I was all but pushing him out the door because he had children.
When he kissed my forehead, I sucked in a sharp breath and allowed a million memories to flash on the backs of my eyelids.
Memories of me laughing, his eyes lit up as he watched me, a huge smile on his face.
Memories of him touching my lips after that kiss he’d promised.
Memories of us curled up on a couch, watching TV together, a fire crackling in the background, but that warmth only he could give me radiating in my chest.
Memories of him making love to me, slow and desperate.
Memories of me coming home to him after a long day’s work and crashing into his strong arms seconds before falling asleep.
Memories of us watching the bright sunrise together.
Memories that would never exist.
