by Alison Ryan
His eyes never left hers. She was speechless.
“I couldn’t let you go without you knowing that,” he said. “I’m telling you that I will do anything to make this work. I will lift all the heavy boulders that we have on top of us. Just let me show you. Please. Not just for me. For you too.”
He held his breath. She had him in the palm of her hand, as always. But what she said now would decide everything.
Chapter 26
“Come home with me,” she said, her voice cracking. “Stay with me tonight.”
It was all he needed to hear.
He’d never driven across the bridge so fast. They were back at her house within ten minutes. As soon as he opened the door for her, she was in his arms, her mouth against his.
He lifted her up, something that wasn’t easy with the layers of crinoline under her massive gown. What he’d once admired on her body, he now desperately wanted to get off of her.
He’d carried her up the steps to her front door, his hands under her ass, her legs wrapped around his waist. She was holding onto him for dear life. Like she never wanted to let go.
Declan practically kicked open her door.
Neither of them could recall how they ended up in the bedroom, but clearly that was where this was heading, where it always headed when it came to them. Neither of them felt like thinking about whether it was right.
It took Charlotte forever to get out of her dress. Declan had stripped down to nothing while she figured it out.
“Do you need my help?” he asked.
“No, because you’ll just rip it off me,” she laughed. “And this isn’t mine to rip.”
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said. “Everyone was looking at you.”
“Yeah, probably wondering what the hell I was doing there,” she said. She was in her bra and panties now, both red like her dress. Declan grabbed his chest.
“You’re going to kill me,” he said. “You’re so fucking sexy. Come here.”
She fell into his arms, just as she’d done so many times before in another life. He was the same but different, she’d noticed that the other night. His body was harder, bigger. Stronger. The Declan she’d first loved had been a young kid, practically. This Declan of the future was a man.
He ran his hands up her back, unsnapping her bra with one hand. His other hand slid down her stomach to her panties. He pulled them off her with one forceful tug. Now she was naked; just as he preferred.
She touched his face as he entered her, his thrusts slow at first.
“I love you,” she said. “No matter what.”
“I love you too,” he said, quickening his pace. “You’re the only person I know how to love, Charlotte.”
She arched her back as he started to plunge deeper inside of her. She could feel herself getting close to the brink of an orgasm and he could feel it too.
“You’re going to come for me,” he said. “Say it.”
“Declan, I can only come for you,” Charlotte cried out. “And yes! I’m coming!”
He kissed her then, long and hard as she yelled her pleasure into his mouth. She could feel how wet it had made her. Declan was sliding in and out of her now, easily.
“You feel so damn good,” he whispered. “How could you ever deny yourself this? What we have?”
He was pounding her now, and she could barely take it. It was heaven and hell all at once.
“I can’t,” she cried out. “I’m so tired of being away from you, Declan. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be happy without you.”
“Me either,” he said. “I’m glad you can admit it too.”
They said nothing for a while. There wasn’t anything they could say that their bodies couldn’t express better than words ever could.
An hour later when they were both spent and on the verge of falling asleep, Declan spoke.
“Why did you come here this time?” he asked as he ran his fingers up and down her arm. She was laying in the crook of him, her eyes closed.
“I had a breakdown of sorts,” she confessed.
She told him the story of Melanie Hopp. Somehow she was able to get through it without crying.
He held her tight against him, his heart broken that it wasn’t a story with a happier ending.
“So it brought up so much from my past that I had pushed down,” Charlotte explained. “I couldn’t do my job the way I need to do it. It wasn’t right. And I felt like such a failure. Just like I did when my mother died.”
Declan shook his head. “Why would you be a failure when it came to your mother? It’s not your fault, Charlotte. We know whose fault it is.”
Charlotte sighed. “I often go over in my head how if I had only just agreed to go with her, things would have been different. All she needed was 30 seconds. If she’d left 30 seconds later, she would have missed that light. Your mother would have still sped through it, but my mother wouldn’t have been there to take the hit.”
Declan turned her face towards his. “That’s not you being a failure, Charlotte. That’s called being incredibly, colossally, unlucky. And what if you had gone and she’d still been hit? You’d be gone too.” Declan shook his head. “The thought of that makes me sick. I’m so sorry.”
Charlotte touched his face. He was still so handsome, even more handsome than he’d been.
“You didn’t do it,” she said. “You are not your mother. And you were right about what you said. Punishing you changes nothing.”
“I still fucked up,” he said. “I should have told you as soon as I knew. I was just so scared. My mother… She needed me. When she told me she’d kill herself if I told anyone…”
“Baby, I know,” Charlotte kissed his mouth softly. “It’s terrible that she put you in that position.”
“It is,” he agreed. “But at the same time, it clearly ate at her, what she’d done. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was really sick, yes. She needed help and none of us could see it. Or maybe we could see it, but we dismissed it as rich lady problems. I don’t want to defend her. What she did is indefensible. I’m sorry.”
“She’s your momma,” Charlotte said. “If you don’t defend her, who will?”
Declan smiled. “I guess. But it’s you. She hurt the person I love more than anything.”
“I wish we could back in time and stop everything from happening,” Charlotte said. “But then I might not have ever met you at all.”
“But you’d have your mother,” he said. “And I’d have mine. And I like to think, when two people are tied to one another like we seem to be, our paths would have crossed somehow. Even in a different life.”
Chapter 27
They woke up late the next morning. The tide was in and the Atlantic was lapping at the shore a mere twenty feet from Charlotte’s back deck. She sat in an Adirondack chair, naked with a blanket wrapped around her, sipping instant coffee.
She’d thought about Declan all night. Watching him sleep next to her, it brought her such comfort. And despite the revelations about his mother’s part in her own mother’s death, she couldn’t let him go. She didn’t know how any of this could work, but being with him again was like coming home. Except home wasn’t a place, like she always assumed it was. Charleston wasn’t home.
Declan DeGraff was.
She’d awakened Declan by mounting him. He was hard under the sheets and she couldn’t help it. She needed him inside of her.
“Fuck,” he said, his eyes fluttering open. He watched her riding him, slowly. Her hips bucked, her large breasts bouncing, the nipples rigid.
“Make me come,” she begged. “Please.”
“Not a problem,” he said, placing his hands on her waist. “Ladies first.”
Afterwards they’d laid there quietly, panting from the exertion.
“This is going to sound weird,” he said. “But do you mind coming with me to see my dad today? He’s probably wondering where I am. I don’t think he even realizes I w
ent to the ball last night; he was asleep when I left.”
Charlotte sat up. “I don’t know. You don’t think it would be weird?”
“He knows you’re here,” Declan said. “So it wouldn’t be that weird. Just a little weird.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Well as long as it’s only a little weird.”
“You don’t have to,” Declan said. “I know it’s asking too much. But it’s getting harder and harder for me to see him.” Declan’s voice choked up for a moment. “I have a feeling there’s not much time left. I keep waiting for my phone to ring and it be one of his nurses telling me he’s gone.”
Charlotte took Declan’s hand and pulled it towards her chest. “My baby. I’m so sorry. That’s so terrible. Of course I’ll go see him with you.”
“Thanks,” he smiled. “It will be different than your last run-in with him. Cancer has humbled his ass.”
Charlotte laughed. “It’s fitting that it would take a terminal illness to humble Henry DeGraff. But God, I hate it for you, Declan. And for him. It’s not right.”
“No,” Declan said. “It isn’t right. But it’s life.”
Charlotte couldn’t help but be a little nervous as they entered the DeGraff home. Everything looked almost exactly as it had ten years ago when she’d first come for dinner- though it didn’t seem quite as bright now. It looked a little duller and more somber. The absence of Anna DeGraff was apparent. The mansion hadn’t known the touch of a woman in a long time.
Henry was asleep in his bed in the living room and although Charlotte was used to seeing patients and had done some of her residency at an oncology ward, it was still unsettling to see the once larger than life Henry DeGraff reduced to what looked like almost a skeleton of a man.
“Hello, Mr. DeGraff,” a tiny woman whispered to them across the room. She was replacing IV fluid. “He just fell asleep. He ate a tiny bit though. I told him you’d be here in a moment. He asked for you as always.”
Declan smiled. “Thanks, Marie. And please, Mr. DeGraff is my father. Just call me Declan. This is Charlotte.”
Charlotte stepped forward and awkwardly shook Marie’s hand. “Hello, nice to meet you.”
“Charlotte,” Marie said. “Mr. DeGraff actually mentioned you this morning.”
“He did?” Charlotte looked over at Declan. “I haven’t seen him in years and it was only one time.”
“He had just received his morphine,” Marie said. “Said you were his son’s great love and he hoped you’d find one another again.”
Declan laughed. “Really? That’s funny.”
“Is it?” Marie asked sternly. “Not maybe what a woman would want to hear you refer to it as.”
Charlotte gave Declan the side-eye. “Yeah. What’s so funny about that?”
Declan threw up his hands. “No, no. It’s not funny. It’s perfect. It’s just I mentioned you one-time yesterday and we barely spoke about you. It’s just funny in the way that drugs make you always tell the truth, is what I meant. It’s funny because it’s true. You are my great love.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Nice save, Mr. DeGraff.”
Marie chuckled. “I like Charlotte. She keeps you on your toes.”
“That she does,” Declan said, wrapping his warm around her shoulders.
“He’ll probably sleep a couple hours,” Marie said. “If there’s anything you need to get done today, this might be a good time to do it.”
Declan sighed. “Well, I was hoping we’d catch him before he had his afternoon nap, but I think I have an idea of something that can distract us. Charlotte, I’ll be right back. I need to make a quick phone call.”
“Okay,” she said as Declan walked out into the foyer, his iPhone already to his ear.
Charlotte walked around the living room quietly as Marie did her nurse duties. She wasn’t sure what to say. Charlotte wasn’t great at small talk.
“You make him happy,” Marie said.
Charlotte turned to her, a quizzical expression on her face.
“Declan. Mr. DeGraff’s son. When he first came here, he was very down. No light in his eyes. I thought it was because of his father,” Marie said, folding a sheet. “I think maybe it was because you weren’t here. You’ve tamed him.”
Charlotte sat down in the chair across from Henry’s bed.
“We were together a long time ago,” Charlotte said. “And we kind of met up again by coincidence.”
“You believe in coincidence?” Marie asked.
“Of course,” Charlotte said. “Don’t you?”
“Oh no,” Marie grinned. “My momma used to say that coincidence is just how God stays anonymous.”
Charlotte laughed. “I like that. Maybe so. Maybe so.”
Declan had walked back into the room. “You ready? Marie, we’re going to be back in about two hours. If he wakes up before that, just text me, okay?”
“Certainly,” Marie said. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
“Really nice to meet you too, Marie.”
Declan was driving with the windows down, the smell of the lowcountry filling their nostrils.
“Where are we headed?” Charlotte asked, taking his hand in hers.
“Angel Oak,” he replied. “I’m meeting someone there. Someone who wants to talk to you, actually.”
Charlotte looked at him. “Who on earth knows me that would be on Johns Island?”
Declan grinned. “It’s a surprise. You might not remember her. But she remembers you. I only cried on her shoulder drunkenly over you about a dozen times.”
Charlotte went through the very small rolodex of people it could be in her mind but came up with nothing.
“Alright,” she said. “I have no guesses. Can you at least tell me what Angel Oak is?”
“You don’t know what Angel Oak is?” Declan asked, incredulous. “I’m genuinely surprised. It’s one of my favorite things about this place.”
“Is it a tree?” Charlotte said.
“Not just any tree,” Declan replied. “It’s the oldest tree east of the Mississippi. Some say it’s 1500 years old. Some say its only 700 years old. Everyone agrees though- it’s old as hell, and there’s a magic about it. You’re going to fall in love. Hard.”
Charlotte couldn’t imagine what could be so incredible about a tree. Sure, Charleston had some beautiful ones. Live oaks with the hanging Spanish moss; it was all very romantic and all. But if you’d seen one live oak, you’d seen them all.
How wrong she was.
Angel Oak was something out of a fairy tale. It’s long, thick branches were the circumference of most trees’ trunks. They stretched out beyond its own massive trunk, reaching out for something that Charlotte would never be able to imagine.
“This is like something out of Tolkien’s imagination,” Charlotte said as she shut the door to Declan’s car, staring up at the imposing oak. “You’re right. I love her.”
“I knew you would,” Declan said as he walked around the rear of the car to meet her, taking her by the hand. “She’s very special. You know, the Gullah say the spirits of the Kiawah guard her at night.”
“The Kiawah?” Charlotte asked as they started walking towards the tree.
“Yep. Native American tribe that used to live on the island. Before my people came and ruined things for everybody,” Declan winked at her.
“How do you know this?” Charlotte said. “And what is Gullah?”
“Damn. You really didn’t live in Charleston long enough if you don’t know about the Gullah,” he said. “Geechee is how we know them around here. They are the descendants of African slaves. They have a unique culture and way of life. They’re a small community now, they used to live up and down the Carolinas, but now they live primarily here in the lowcountry. And you’ve seen them, selling their sweet grass baskets up and down Meeting Street near my house.”
“Oh!” Charlotte said. “Yes! I love those baskets.”
“And you’ve also met a Gullah woman.
And that’s who we’re here to see today. She’s waiting for us over at the picnic tables.”
Charlotte was lost. Who could this be?
As they approached a table, a thick waisted black woman stood up to greet them, her smile broad and warm, her arms outstretched.
“Declan!” she said.
“Antonia!” Declan exclaimed leaning down to hug her.
Oh, yes! Now Charlotte recalled her. Antonia had been the DeGraff’s housekeeper and chef when Charlotte visited. She was older now and a little bit heavier, but Charlotte recognized her immediately.
“Hello, Antonia,” Charlotte said.
“Oh, sweet Charlotte,” Antonia leaned forward to embrace her. “I’m so happy to see you. When Declan told me how you’d find one another again, it made my heart so happy for you both. He’s told me so many things about you over the years. His heart has always been broken over you.”
Declan sighed. “Antonia. You’re making me sound a little pathetic.”
Charlotte laughed. “I like it. Tell me more.” She threw her elbow into his side. “I can’t help but get a little pleasure out of knowing you were pining away for me.”
“Oh he was!” Antonia said. “But now fate has thrown you together yet again. There are no coincidences when it comes to love.”
“Coincidences are just God being anonymous,” Charlotte said out loud and both Antonia and Declan looked at her in shock.
