by Isabel Love
I wrap my arms around my waist and stupid tears threaten to fall, but I’m not letting them off the hook with one nice gesture.
“You haven’t been very supportive.”
They both sigh, as if they practiced doing it in unison. “The divorce was hard for us to accept.”
“It was hard for me, too.”
“I realize that,” my mom says, eyeing the people walking around us, uncomfortable about talking like this in front of strangers.
“What your mom is trying to say is that we will try to do a better job showing you support.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
“You’re right,” my dad agrees.
“Would you like to come to dinner next weekend?” My mom finally meets my gaze.
“Is Reid going to be there?”
“No, just the three of us—unless Charlie would like to come, too.”
“I think the three of us would be nice.”
“See you then. You did a great job here today, Quinn.” My mom nods to the exhibit behind her.
“We’re proud of you.”
I nod, taking in those rare words. I don’t reach out to hug them. I don’t tell my mom my heart is breaking. I don’t ask my dad for advice on how to fix my stupid mistake. We just don’t have that kind of relationship.
But I’m beyond touched that Charlie told my parents off and sent them tickets to my show.
And I’m glad they made an effort. It’s a good place to start.
My insides ache, telling me every cell in my body misses Charlie.
Charlie isn’t Reid. I need to talk to him before he leaves. I need to tell him how I feel.
Monica’s right, he deserves the right to choose.
I’m just afraid I’ve fucked up any chance I had with him by holding back the truth.
There’s only one way to find out.
Want to play Uno?
I CHECK THE CLOCK on the wall for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. The open house started an hour ago, and I wish I could have been there to see Quinn’s reaction to the exhibit. Suzanne texted me a picture of it, and I love how everything came together. I wonder if Quinn’s parents used the tickets I sent them.
I check the time again, unable to stop myself from hoping beyond hope that Quinn will come talk to me. No time has passed. I need to find something to distract myself, except everything I own is packed in boxes. I debate going for a run to work off some of this nervous energy, but I can’t leave. What if she actually stops by and I’m gone?
Just when I’m about to go stark raving mad, I hear a knock at the door. For a second I think I made it up because I want it so bad, but then I hear it again.
Heart in my throat, I make it to the door in three long strides and throw open the door. My heart sinks when I see Max.
“Hey.”
He must notice how I deflate when I realize it’s him. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”
I sigh. “No, come on in. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just thought that today is the last time I can come over for no reason, so here I am.”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Here you are.”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” He raises his eyebrows.
“You really want to know?”
He sits on my couch and kicks his legs up on the ottoman. “Tell me—unless it involves you jerking off, then I don’t want to know.”
“I was just checking the time obsessively. The open house at Art Redefined started over an hour ago.” I explain the details to Max, the pictures I took, the way Suzanne made Quinn’s art and my pictures a feature exhibit, the tickets I sent to her parents. “I wish I knew what was going on.”
“You miss her.”
I grimace. “I’m trying not to.”
“You fell hard for her, didn’t you?”
“You and Logan called it.”
“Well, she’s making a mistake, and I bet she’s going to realize it.”
“But is she going to realize it before tomorrow?”
He shrugs. “Maybe, but maybe not. All that matters is that she realizes it, don’t you think?”
“It’d be nice if she realized it soon,” I mutter.
“Want to play Uno?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Uno? Random much?”
“What? I figured everything was packed here so I brought a game.” He takes out a small box of playing cards.
“I haven’t played Uno since we were kids.”
“Me neither. I was helping my mom clean out the basement the other day and she was about to throw these away. I had to rescue them.”
We have to read the instructions on the box to refresh our memory of the rules, then Max deals and we play Uno.
Surprisingly, it helps. The time passes while we play. Since there are only two of us, the reverse and skip a turn cards don’t have as much impact as they would with more players, but we still get the thrill of making the other person pick up four cards. We’re so into the game I almost miss the knock on the door.
Then it happens again, louder, and I freeze.
Max smiles. “You going to get that?”
I try not to hope it’s Quinn. “It’s probably Logan.”
“Nah, he and Tate are at his parents’ house. I stopped there before I came here to see if he wanted to come.”
My heart beats, a wild thrashing thing bumping against my sternum. I’m not embarrassed that Max sees me practically run to the front door.
When I pull it open, I could cry with relief. Quinn stands on my front step, so beautiful it hurts to look at her. She came.
“Hi,” she says in a small voice.
“Hi.” Is it too early to grab her and kiss her? I mean, why else is she here?
“Can I come in?”
I step out of the way and open the door in invitation.
When she hears rustling sounds inside, her face floods with horror. She thinks I have someone over.
“It’s Max,” I tell her.
Relief washes over her and Max joins us by the door.
“Thank God you’re here, Quinn.”
“Um,” she hedges, not sure what to say.
“He’s been so grumpy without you. I hope you two kiss and make up. See you later!” He waves and lets himself out.
I chuckle and we stand there, facing each other awkwardly.
“Charlie, the pictures…they were amazing.”
“Did you like them?” My throat is tight, but I manage to form words.
“Yes. We sold out tonight.”
“What?”
She nods, smiling. “All my pieces and all your pictures sold. Suzanne is over the moon.”
I smile at her, proud of her success. “That’s great. Congratulations.”
“You too.”
A beat passes and I’m dying to know more. Why is she here? “You want something to drink?”
“I’d love some water.”
We move silently into my kitchen where I get two water bottles. She looks at all the boxes with wide eyes.
“Monica told me you got the position in management. I can’t believe you’re moving.”
Please beg me to stay. I’ll stay for you. “That’s the plan.”
“Well.” She squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath for fortification. “I just needed to talk to you before you leave. I have to…tell you some things.”
“Okay.” I wait patiently.
“I miss you,” she starts.
Thank fuck. I force myself to remain seated where I am. I need more.
“I miss you too, Red.”
“But I need to tell you a story and I need you to let me get it out.”
I nod slowly, curiosity running wild with what she might need to tell me. “Go on.”
CHARLIE LOOKS AT ME with his gorgeous blue eyes and waits for me to continue. I don’t know where to start, but I know I need to just get on with it. Heart h
ammering in my chest, I start at the beginning.
“When Reid and I were married, we wanted to have a family.”
He looks surprised, but keeps quiet as promised.
“I got pregnant.”
His eyes widen in shock. “You were pregnant?”
I nod, trying not to cry. “I had a complication that required surgery. My son, Noah, lived for eight hours.” This time, I’m not surprised when hot tears fall down my cheeks.
He gapes at me. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“When they operated on me, they couldn’t stop the bleeding in my uterus. They had to do a hysterectomy.”
He stares at me, not quite getting it.
“They had to remove my uterus, Charlie. I can’t ever have kids again.” My heart breaks all over again and I clasp my hands together to stop them from shaking.
His face is full of regret, but behind that, tenderness shines in the way he looks at me, and I try to squash the seed of hope that expression puts in my heart.
I stutter through the rest of it. Burying Noah. My subsequent depression. How I lost my art for a while. Reid’s affair and then our divorce.
When I finish, silence stretches between us, ringing in my ears, and I’m desperate for his reaction, but I give him a minute to absorb everything.
“I’m so damn sorry for what you went through, Quinn, but why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you tell me this when I told you what happened with Anna?”
I shrug. “That was such an emotional night, I wanted to comfort you, not dump my sob story on you. That wasn’t the right time.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me some other time?”
I shrug, not having a good answer. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you, but there’s never a good time to tell that story, you know?”
“Why did you break up with me, Quinn?” His eyes are searching and I want to know so badly what he’s thinking right now.
“I never knew you wanted kids, Charlie. If I had known, I wouldn’t have let it get so far. When you hinted at wanting to have a second chance at becoming a dad, I knew I had to give you a chance to find someone else, someone you can have a family with.”
“So let me get this straight: you broke up with me, not because you don’t love me, but because you can’t have kids?”
I shrug. “You said you want to have a family. I want you to be happy.”
“And you thought I’d be better off without you? You thought you would decide what I want instead of being truthful and letting me decide?” His voice has an edge of steel and my stomach sinks with dread. I knew it. He thinks I’m no better than Anna.
“I can’t give you a family, Charlie.”
“And you think I want a family so bad I’d leave you because you can’t have kids?”
I nod, miserable.
“I’m glad you had so much faith in me.” The tenderness is gone, replaced with anger, and the small flicker of hope I had dies out.
“It wasn’t about that—”
His eyes harden. “You knew how much I hated the fact that Anna took my choice away, and yet you did the same exact thing.”
“I’m so sorry. I realize I didn’t go about this the right way, but I needed you to know the truth. I love you, Charlie.” I don’t even try to wipe the tears as they fall.
“You promised me you wouldn’t lie to me. You knew it was my deal breaker, just like cheating is yours.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You told me you didn’t love me, and you withheld some pretty big facts about yourself. How am I supposed to trust you?”
The lump in my throat is about to choke me. I knew he wouldn’t forgive me.
“I’m sorry. I promise to be truthful with you forever if you give me another chance.”
“Give you another chance to lie to me? To decide what’s best for me?” He laughs and it’s an ugly sound. I know his answer before he says it out loud. “Tempting, but I’ll pass.” He stands up and walks toward the door, his long strides taking him away from me.
Tears blur my vision as I make my way to the door, and I’m pissed because I want to look at him one last time. Blinking rapidly, I try to clear them and stand in front of him.
His face is taut with anger, nostrils flaring with each breath. Despite his anger, he’s still beautiful. My fingers itch to touch him, but I know it wouldn’t be welcome. “I love you, Charlie. I hope you find someone who can make you happy, someone better than me.” I turn to walk out of Charlie’s life forever.
Monica thought I’d be surprised at his choice, but I knew all along that he wouldn’t choose me.
I think I know a place.
“GOOD MORNING, MR. NELSON.”
“Charlie, please. Mr. Nelson is my father.” I smile stiffly at a woman whose name I can’t remember. My mind swims as she takes me through her presentation and I struggle to pay attention. I catch so many errors, I can’t write them down fast enough. My first impulse is to take over the project and do it myself, but that isn’t my job anymore. My job is to manage my team and let them do the work. I grit my teeth as I try to give her pointers on what to improve tactfully. I was brutally honest yesterday, and that woman left my office in tears and called HR, so I’m working on toning down my kneejerk reactions.
It’s hard. I want to tear up her proposal, but I don’t.
I hate this job.
I hate my new apartment.
I hate New York City.
Mostly because Quinn isn’t here.
But then I remember, I hate Quinn, too.
Or rather, I hate what she did. How dare she think she knew what was best for me? Especially when what she thought was best for me was for her to leave me so I could find someone else to make babies with.
As if I’m in some rush to have kids.
Okay, yes, I did have thoughts of having kids with Quinn, and when I thought she was pregnant, I liked the idea, but that was before I knew she couldn’t have kids.
When I think of what she went through, having to bury her premature son, my stomach churns with sorrow. I can’t even imagine burying your child and learning you can’t have any more kids all at the same time.
And her fucking ex-husband cheated on her months later while she was depressed and grieving. I remember his offhanded comment about me not knowing the whole story. As if knowing everything that happened makes it okay for him to do what he did. What a fucking tool. I want to rip his dick off and pummel his face with it. How could he be so cold?
I touch my chest, trying to soothe the ache again, but it’s no use. I feel hollow, grumpy, and unhappy.
My phone beeps with an incoming text.
Dom: Hey, you around
Me: I’m here, what’s up?
Dom: Good news, you got an offer on your house.
Me: Is it a good one?
Dom: It’s solid, but the buyers are in a rush, they want to be in by the end of the week.
Me: I’m not due back home until next weekend, I won’t be able to pack up the rest of my stuff.
Dom: No worries, I can take care of it for you.
Me: You think I should close?
Dom: If you’re still serious about selling, this is a great offer. The bank can fax you the documents to sign by lunch.
Me: Okay, do it.
When I get the fax, I try to remember how much Quinn hurt me.
When I fax it back to the bank, I try to ignore the knots in my stomach. I can’t afford to pay rent for my new apartment plus the mortgage for my house. This is a smart decision.
“Hey man, how’s New York City treating you?” The familiar sound of Max’s voice makes my stomach ache with homesickness.
“Hey. It’s…okay.” I try to conceal how unhappy I am.
“Just okay?”
I sign. “I’m not going to lie, being a manager sucks balls.”
“That bad?”
“Yeah, I think my team is the dumbest team in the company. I just
want to redo all the projects myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll like it better as you get used to it.” Max, ever the optimist.
“Maybe.”
“You never told me what happened with Quinn. You’re still grumpy as fuck, so I’m assuming you two didn’t get back together?”
I clench my jaw. “No.”
“Well that sucks. I was sure she was there to tell you she missed you.”
I lean back on my couch and squeeze my eyes shut. I debate brushing him off, but my mouth has other ideas. Before I know it, I’ve told Max the whole damn story. I know I shouldn’t have told him Quinn’s story, but I trust Max not to blab about it, and I just need to get the story out.
“Wow, that’s horrifying. I can’t believe Quinn went through that.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re still pissed at her why?” he asks.
“Because she took my choice away from me! She lied to me! How can I ever trust her again?”
I hear him take a deep breath. “Look, I agree with you that she should have told you earlier. You shared a painful part of your past and she should have been open with you about hers.”
“Exactly.”
“But she realized she made a mistake. It seems to me like she was putting the choice back in your hands by telling you.”
“How do you figure?”
“She loves you. All of her choices have been selfless. She let you go when she thought you wanted kids, and then she apologized and told you probably the most painful thing she has ever endured in hopes that you might forgive her and see past her mistake. She was giving you the chance to look past her flaws and still choose her.”
“She hurt me.”
“I get that. Believe me, when I thought Monica cared more about her job than me, I was gutted.”
“So how did you trust her again?”
I can almost see him shrug though the phone line. “Because I couldn’t breathe without her.”
Holy fuck. That’s exactly how I feel.
“The way I figure it, we all make mistakes, but it takes guts to admit you were wrong and lay yourself bare for someone else. She gave you the power to hurt her, too.”
My heart starts to beat faster.
