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Maybe I Do

Page 27

by Nicole McLaughlin


  “So you did it because you were worried about my feelings?”

  “If I’d had things my way, we’d have never seen her again. But I don’t regret it, and I don’t want you to stop being close to her for me.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might worry about your feelings, Dean? You’re always worrying about me, but I worry about you, too.”

  “Alex, you’re—”

  “Yes I know. You see me as a child. But I’m not.” There was no anger in her voice, just honesty. And she was right: No matter how old she seemed to get, in his mind she was always his little sister, fifteen years younger than he was.

  “I know you’re not a child, Alexis. Doesn’t meant I don’t want to protect you from pain. What you’re going through now…” He stared at her eyes, which had started to glisten. “I’d do anything to change it. Anything.”

  “Me too.” Her voice broke, and before a sob could release she sucked in a deep breath. “Goddamn, I’m so sick of crying. It’s begun to hurt, crying so much. My face hurts, my lips, my head. My whole body feels wrung dry.”

  The sound of water boiling behind him drew Dean’s focus, and he walked over to pour the little shells into the pot. He wished he knew why Amy had confided what she did in Alex. Part of his reasoning for not telling his sister at the time was at Amy’s request. She’d begged him not to tell, said it would break her heart if she lost Alex over the split. He knew that as much as Amy had hurt him, she still loved his sister. And she was good to her, so it had made sense not to break either of their hearts any more than necessary.

  “I hadn’t seen him in two weeks. Isn’t that crazy?” Alex voice was small, and when Dean turned back to her, she was staring off into the living room. “We were supposed to see each other the next day and … God, I was so excited. I knew our wedding was right around the corner. I’ll never know what it was like to marry Nate.”

  “Alex…” He wasn’t sure if her talking openly about this was healthy or if he should suggest she stop. It seemed the best action was to let her decide, so he stayed silent after that.

  “You know, the hardest part about losing him is that … he’s the person I want there, to tell how bad the pain is. He’s the person I want to hold me while I cry. He’s the person … the only person who would understand why I feel like my life is over. And he’s not here.” She looked back to Dean, lip trembling.

  Before he could begin to process what the best response was, she pushed her chair back and within seconds she was around the table and falling against him, her arms locking tight around his waist. Deep heavy sobs ripped from her throat, her chest heaving in and out so hard he could practically feel the sound coming up from the inside of her body against his ribs. He instantly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her head against him, his cheek resting on her hair. She smelled like his cheap shampoo, and he knew that from this point forward he wouldn’t be able to smell that scent without thinking of this devastating moment.

  Dean’s eyes blurred with tears, but he remained silent as she cried in his arms. He knew the pasta beside him would be done in a few moments, but there was no way he was moving. The weight of her body against him made him think her legs might give out at any moment, as if the pain was such a heavy load, it was literally pulling her into the ground.

  After a long moment, her cries turned to stuttering whimpers. Finally, she moved, reaching toward the counter for a paper towel, and Dean stepped back so she could grab one.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry.” She was staring down at his T-shirt, which was covered in what was definitely a mix of tears and snot. As she lifted the paper towel to her face and blew, she began to chuckle. He looked up at her and laughed a little, too.

  “I guess you should have just used my shirt to blow your nose. Wouldn’t really have made a difference.”

  Alex slapped at his arm. “Shut up.”

  He used the free moment to grab a strainer and finish preparing her meal. Maybe the first real food she’d eaten in days. While he stirred the goopy cheese into the noodles, she leaned her head on his arm. “Thank you for always taking care of me.”

  “It’s my job.” He reached for a bowl in the cabinet, but before he could serve her some she grabbed a fork and stuck it into the pot. He shrugged. “Or you can do that.”

  She gave a little smile. “Sorry. I’ll use a bowl. I was just hungry.”

  “I’m glad. I was starting to worry about you.” He scooped a hefty serving into the bowl and handed it to her.

  “It’s never been your job to take care of me, you know?” she said as she went to sit back down at the table. “But I consider myself lucky that you always have.”

  “You were thirteen. And I was legally your guardian. So yes, it was definitely my job. But I wouldn’t change anything, Alex.”

  She took a few more bites, and Dean sat back down to his watery cocktail.

  “Amy also told me you liked someone. The girl you were, uh … planning with. Charlotte?”

  Amy had certainly been chatty. What had prompted all of her admissions? he wondered. Also, the mention of Charlotte deepened the ache in his chest. God, how he missed her. So many times he’d wanted to call her, just to tell her what was going on. How sad, but also how beautiful the funeral had been. Nate’s family were members of a Southern Baptist church. The kind with the soulful choir that made you feel alive even though you were mourning the dead. It had been an incredibly moving experience, especially when all the women had circled his mother and Alexis and put their hands on them, praying out loud for them and for Nate. Dean had never witnessed anything like it, and he’d wished so badly that Charlotte had been there with him.

  He’d wanted to share with her how annoying it was when they’d been laid over in Omaha on their flight back the other day. Without her, there wasn’t anyone to truly share with. He’d just wanted her. Wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her. But every time he’d been close to calling, he’d held back. Reminded himself of his failures. All the things he knew he couldn’t offer.

  He’d known what the outcome of his infertility test would be, but to hear it again after all these years had been a blow. Things were worse than they had been, his sperm quality count had dropped dramatically. No doubt him aging ten years had been the reason.

  “Was she right?” Alexis urged. “Do you like her?”

  “Yeah. Charlotte and I had been spending some time together, seeing how things went.”

  “And? Why hasn’t she come around?”

  Dean sighed. “Several reasons.”

  “Such as…”

  “I guess I’ve started thinking maybe we aren’t a great fit. For starters she’s nearly a dozen years younger than I am.”

  Alex’s eyes went wide. “Look at you, stud. But I’m not surprised. Do you know how many of my girlfriends had crushes on you? Creeped me out.”

  It was Dean’s turn to be surprised. “What? That creeps me out, too.”

  “Okay, so she’s younger. So what? That makes her…”

  “Almost thirty.”

  Alex looked annoyed at that. “I’m pretty sure a thirty-year-old woman is old enough for you. I mean, it’s not like you’re seventy.”

  “Okay, fine, it’s not a deal breaker. The other thing is that … I know for a fact she happens to want children, and I … well, I can’t give her that.”

  His sister’s eyes softened, full of sympathy and also surprise. “I always wondered why you and Amy never had a child. I used to worry it was because of me. I was too difficult. Or you were waiting for me to move out.”

  “No way, Alex. It had nothing to do with you. We tried. Tried for years. Amy had several miscarriages.”

  “Did you see a doctor? You know there are things to try.”

  Dean nodded. “Yes … to everything. I’m the infertile one, and I even went back to the doctor a couple of weeks ago to get a second opinion. The chances of conception are almost … zero.”

  Alex set down her spoon, he
r eyes going sad. “Dean. I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It happens. There are several theories on why, but … the outcome is the same.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “I was going to. But no, I haven’t. I’ve been taking care of you.”

  “Don’t use me as an excuse. Dean, you’re sitting here with a girl who just lost the love of her life. Do you seriously think I would have let something like infertility keep me from him? The person you love is all that matters. If you care about this woman … you owe it to both of you to make this decision together.”

  It was a little unsettling for his grieving sister to sit here giving him relationship advice. And she wasn’t finished.

  “I wish you’d do it for me. I’m tired of you taking care of everyone else but yourself.”

  “I can’t believe you’re sitting here right now worrying about me. This is ridiculous.”

  “It is ridiculous, so stop it. There’s no reason that one of us can’t be happy.”

  “Alex, you still have your whole life ahead of you. You’re hurting now, but you’ll love someone again.”

  She lifted a hand and shook her head. “Don’t. I can’t even think that thought. Just … at least tell her. Amy said she could tell Charlotte cared about you. Don’t let her wonder why you’re pulling away. Give her a chance to love you. For me.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Charlotte was surprised, but happy, to see Jen at the front desk of the Stag. Today she had her dark—almost blue-black—hair curled into waves around her head, and she wore a pretty yellow dress that brought out the vibrancy in the tattoos on her shoulder. She really was a strikingly beautiful woman, and she could pull off a bright-red lipstick like nobody’s business.

  “Working on a Wednesday?” Charlotte asked.

  Jen spread her arms out to encompass the desk and counter. “My new domain. At least until Tara returns.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful, and I’m sure the guys appreciate the help.”

  “Yeah. So far it’s been great, but it’s only been a few weeks. I’m better at it than I thought I’d be, though. I like working with brides and talking about their weddings. Even the distillery side of things is kind of fun.”

  “Good for you. What will you do when Tara comes back?”

  A shadow passed over Jen’s face. “Not really sure yet. Guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

  “How long is Tara’s maternity leave once she delivers?”

  “Twelve weeks. So I have a while to enjoy it.”

  Charlotte pulled a small stack of paper-clipped documents out of her bag and laid them on the counter. “I just needed to drop off a few things for Dean to sign. I put stickies on each one indicating where he needs to fill something out and sign. Basically they’re cancel contracts for the wedding. And the envelope contains several of his deposit checks and some cash that was refunded.”

  “They were willing to refund? That’s nice.”

  “It is, especially since most of the deposits were contractually nonrefundable. But under the circumstances and the fact that we’re in the wedding community I think they were happy to do this for him. And Alex.”

  “Poor Alex.” Jen shook her head.

  Charlotte had only one experience with loss, her unborn child. She could only imagine the suffering Alex was going through. But she did know well what it was like to think your life was headed in one happy direction, only to have that all ripped away.

  “Has, uh … Dean been in?” she found herself asking, instantly wishing she hadn’t.

  “Actually he’s here now. Want me to get him, you could give him these—”

  “No, no. That’s okay. I have to run.”

  “Charlotte?”

  Oh God.

  Charlotte’s stomach fluttered at the sound of his voice. Part of her wanted to run out the front door and pretend she hadn’t heard him. The other wanted to turn and head straight for his arms and beg him to explain why he’d shut her out. Trying to be strong, she turned and feigned indifference. Unsure if she would be convincing.

  “Hey. How are you?”

  He seemed a little surprised and unnerved by her smile. “I’ve been better. What are you doing here?”

  Funny how a few weeks ago she’d just shown up to show him décor, or talk about a vendor choice, but now it was so awkward.

  “I actually just dropped off some papers for you to sign.”

  “And you were going to leave without saying hi?”

  Really? Her head jerked back the slightest bit, jaw dropping. She knew by the expression on his face that he could read her irritation at that comment.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” He motioned for the conference room. She knew there was no way she could go in there, remembering them kissing in that room, laughing, planning.

  “Actually it’s not a good time. I’m on my way to a shoot.” That wasn’t completely a lie, but it didn’t really start for an hour.

  “Oh. What kind?”

  Did she mistake the tightening in his jaw, or the way he shoved his hands in his pockets a little too hard? God, he looked so good today. His hair had grown a little overlong and he really should have shaved this morning, but his skin was slightly more tanned than the last time she’d seen him, and the oxford shirt he wore made his shoulders look especially broad.

  “It’s actually another book cover shoot. I’ve booked a lot of them over the past few weeks. Kind of exciting.”

  “Hmm. Good for you. If you enjoy it.”

  “I do.”

  His eyes narrowed a bit, and he shifted his feet. “Well then, can we get together afterward? I just … we haven’t really been able to talk lately.”

  She frowned, no longer capable of holding up the pretense. “Actually, I’ve been very available to talk. You just haven’t wanted me.”

  Dean’s eyes darted toward the front desk, his jaw clinching. “Charlotte…”

  “Am I wrong?” she said, looking him square in the eye.

  His sigh left her worried about what his response might be. When he hesitated, she suddenly felt weak. This was it. He would tell her he was sorry but they were officially over.

  “Don’t answer that actually.” She put up a hand. “I need to go.”

  Turning around, she didn’t even glance at Jen as she rushed for the door. Her eyes were stinging as she stepped outside.

  “Charlotte, stop,” his voice called behind her.

  With a groan, she wiped under her eyes and then turned. “What do you possibly need to say to me?”

  Dean stopped short on the sidewalk. “First of all, I need to say I’m an asshole. I haven’t handled things well, but … I’ve had a lot going on.”

  “Yeah. You have. And I guess I thought it might have been my place to help you with that. But if not, that really tells me all I need to know.”

  “I deserve your anger. But…” His lips clamped shut, the light breeze blowing the hair on his neck. “Please come to my place tonight. Have dinner with Alex and me.”

  Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yes, damn it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t blame you for being angry, and you probably won’t believe me, but I was going to call and ask you over tonight anyway. You just showed up here before I could.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “The only reason I’m even considering it is because I would like to meet Alexis. How is she doing?”

  He let out a sigh. “She’s doing the best she can. One hour she’s able to smile, and the next she goes to her room and cries.”

  The sadness in his tone reminded Charlotte of what he’d been dealing with. Did he deserve her understanding? A little, but he’d said it best: He also deserved her anger. The person who deserved her sympathy was his sister.

  “Every day it will get better. One day she’ll get through a full day and realize she didn’t cry. And then she’ll feel guilty. Tell her t
hat’s okay.”

  Dean stared at her a long moment. Then he slowly stepped a little closer as his hand reached up and touched her jaw so quickly, it was almost a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”

  Charlotte swallowed, not sure what to think about what was happening. Her thoughts were fractured, uncertain, and she didn’t trust what she was feeling in that moment. She smiled and shook her head the slightest bit. “Please don’t confuse me, Dean. I’ll text you when I’m done with my shoot.”

  Dean’s brow furrowed and he nodded. “Are you going alone? I hope it’s nowhere unsafe.”

  “It will be fine. I’ll see you later.” She turned, wanting out of there before she did something stupid, like talk about how much she’d missed him. Admit that she wasn’t sure what he wanted from her now.

  “Charlotte,” Dean called out as she pulled open her car door.

  She turned. “Yes?”

  “No couple photos.”

  Staring at him, she lifted her eyebrow. “I’ll try not to.”

  His eyes went wide at her response but she just got in her car and drove off. It felt good.

  * * *

  Dean was still nervous that Charlotte might not show up, although he’d told Alexis she was coming. His sister had been so excited, she’d offered to help him make dinner. That alone was a positive outcome. The past hour they’d hung out in the kitchen together, making pasta sauce, mixing, and layering together a lasagna recipe that Alex had found on the Internet. It had been like therapy for both of them. She’d even laughed a couple of times, although that faraway look often clouded her eyes.

  He knew it would take a long time for her to get over Nate, but he hated that there was nothing he could do to make it easier for her.

  Dean’s phone chimed on the kitchen table, and Alex darted over to get it. Picking it up, she straightened. “It’s her. She said she’s just cleaning up and will be here in about twenty.”

  Dean sucked in a breath of relief. And happiness. “Okay. That’s perfect, the timer says ten minutes.”

  “Then we have to let it sit for twenty.”

  “In the pan?” he asked.

 

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