by P. M. Briede
The door opened and I heard an astonished, “Mrs. Charlotte!” from a different female voice. The fog was fading and I could make out a woman racing from the door to the bed. “This is a hospital not a hotel. You get out of that bed this instant!”
“Please, Nurse Janison, I need your help. If I leave him, especially now that he’s awake, he’ll regress. I’m not making it up. We’ve been through a lot, to say the least, and most of it in separation. He took the worst of it and what he needs isn’t something the hospital can give unless it’s willing to make an exception and let me stay.” Charlotte was clinging to me as she begged the nurse not to kick her out.
The nurse was working her hands nervously. “Mrs. Charlotte, there’s nothing I’d love more than to give into you. But you already know that, which is why you asked for me. But this isn’t something I can just overlook. The decision to grant exceptions to ICU policy has to come from the head administrator and there typically needs to be someone very compelling making the request.”
“Would the President-elect of the United States of America be considered compelling enough?” Charlotte challenged with a slick richness in her voice. God, but she was brilliant! Alexander wouldn’t deny her anything. The Wyatt’s had constantly been saying how much they considered her part of the family because they considered me part of their family. They’d continually chastised me for letting her slip away … wait, when had I lost Charlotte?
Nurse Janison nodded and handed Charlotte something. “There I’ve got the number pulled up. They’ll answer because it’s his phone and they know we are here. Tell them I’m sorry I didn’t call myself but I’m not leaving his side until he’s released from here.” With that, Charlotte turned back to me and I got my first look of her stunning face. She looked tired with concern in the depths of her eyes yet there was a glow about her. This first glimpse of her since our kidnapping told me what she’d suffered had changed her, made her more wary, and made her harder. I just hoped it hadn’t cost her that loving, artistic spirit I adored so much.
Alexander made the call and all the rules were thrown out for us. Whatever Charlotte wanted for my care, I got. She was relentless in her demands. I got visitors. I got my laptop. I got Nurse Janison as my personal nurse. When Charlotte was informed she was pregnant and asked when the last time she’d seen the OB-GYN, her startled response made me chuckle. Laughing was still too painful on my sides. “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken,” Charlotte argued. “I can’t get pregnant.” For some reason hearing about her pregnancy hadn’t surprised me and I couldn’t remember why that was. But when she was told she in fact was and that they’d set up an appointment for her, she insisted the doctor and equipment were brought to us. Not only so she wouldn’t have to leave my side but because the father should hear his child with his wife for the first time. So the day after I’d woken up I heard the strong, rapid fluttering of my unborn child’s heart. My Charlotte from before wouldn’t have even asked for special treatment in the first place. She wouldn’t have wanted to bother Alexander. She wouldn’t have wanted to disrupt the hospital. This Charlotte, who was still my loving, artistic spirit, was now also fiercely protective over those she loved and unafraid to speak her mind.
At first I’d thought it had just been over me, I am her husband after all and was in pretty bad shape. But when Paige and Tristan stopped by the house for a visit after I’d been released, Charlotte unloaded on Paige’s ex-husband when his telephone tirade interrupted their visit. Paige had been trying to politely put him off, telling him she’d call him about the kids when they got home. Tristan was rolling his eyes and steaming. “How often has he called today?” Charlotte asked. Tristan answered that he’d lost track. Jim had gotten worse after Paige had remarried.
Charlotte jumped out of my arms to snatch the phone out of Paige’s hand. “Look, Jim, Paige has civilly told you multiple times your concerns are not a priority at the moment. You back off, now!” Then she hung up and tossed the phone into another room. When she turned back to us, we were all staring at her in wide-eyed wonderment. “What?” She shrugged and I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help but be proud as she snuggled back into my waiting embrace, brushing a kiss against my lips.
Paige was grinning from ear to ear. “I like this feisty Charlotte. Are you going to be able to handle her, Wesley?”
“Probably not,” I admitted with a smile. Why did it feel like it had been a lifetime since I’d done that? Tristan threw his head back and laughed. “But I’m certainly going to enjoy trying.” I hugged her to me, kissing the top of her head. With Charlotte so close I could feel the vibrations of her laughter.
During the rest of the visit, Paige filled us all in on the progress the police were making with our kidnapping case. The place in Tennessee where we’d been held had burned to the ground, destroying any evidence and most of our chances of catching our captors. Apparently there had been a riot in the streets over animal rights and experimentation, which had turned violent. That’s how we’d been found. When the police had broken into the facility, they’d come across us and dropped us off at a hospital in Tennessee. When we were identified and stabilized we were flown to St. Charles Hospital in New Orleans. I was told my injuries were consistent with torture though I couldn’t remember any of it or what information I’d been asked. I asked Charlotte multiple times about her experience and I knew she had memories of it, but she held onto them, insisting she didn’t remember anything either.
“So how come the hospital thought you two were married?” Paige probed.
Blinking at her, I didn’t understand her question. Surely, she was at our wedding? But strangely I didn’t seem to have any memory of any of our guests. Charlotte beat me to the response. “It was just easier to say so because I’d wanted to avoid asking for Alexander’s help. I thought they would show more leniency if they thought Wesley was my husband.” At the tail end of her explanation, Charlotte looked at me and placed a hand on my cheek tenderly. But with her back to Paige and Tristan, her eyes told me not to disagree, and that she’d explain more to me later. Which was good because I distinctly remembered exchanging vows and rings in a cottage somewhere. Where was my ring? “Sooo, we asked you here today because Wesley has something to tell you,” Charlotte announced as she peered over her shoulder at them.
She snuggled back into my chest and my heart hammered with excitement, not only about our news but also because her sweet, floral scent washed over me. God, I loved her. Paige and Tristan were staring at me with impatient, yet assuming, eyes. “We’re pregnant,” I confirmed. “The baby’s due sometime in June.”
Paige leapt from the loveseat to pull Charlotte out of my arms. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” Perturbed because I now felt empty without her, I tried to distract myself by gingerly rising to accept Tristan’s congratulations with my good hand. “Good for you, man!” he said.
Suddenly, Paige’s face clouded over in horror and she shoved Charlotte out of her arms to look in her face. “You’re okay, right? The baby’s okay?” It had been my concern when we were trying to hear the heartbeat. But the doctor seemed to think everything sounded fine and Charlotte was healthy. To be safe though, we’d had an ultrasound right before I left the hospital and it was confirmed the baby looked normal.
After they left, I looked at the woman I’d thought was my wife. “So are we married or not?” I asked with the hesitation dripping from my voice.
Charlotte cocked her head to the side, quirked an eyebrow, and smiled slyly. “Well, that depends on who you ask. Are you asking me or the IRS?”
That was confusing. “I guess, you, my love.”
“Then the answer is a resounding ‘yes.’” She pressed her lips to mine and kissed me deeply. All other thoughts were wiped from my mind as her tongue slid around mine. Desire pulsated through me as I tried and failed to pull her into my lap. It was easy for her to avoid me due to my busted hand. I hadn’t been able to make love to her, doctor’s orders until my ribs completel
y healed.
“What would the IRS say?” I breathlessly asked when the seal of our lips finally broke.
“That we’re not,” Charlotte confessed with a giggle. But her eyes were bright, sparkling with the secret hidden in their depths. I waited patiently for her to share it with me. “We grew impatient waiting for an appropriate time to wed, what with all the demands of the campaign. You surprised me at the spa in North Carolina, do you remember?” I did, so I nudged her nose with mine as I nodded. Thank God that was a memory and not a fantasy! Recently some of my fantasies had become so lifelike I was having trouble telling them apart. “I’m glad that wasn’t taken from you,” she whispered almost inaudibly before purring the rest of her thoughts to me. “You and I said the words to each other. There were no witnesses, no officiant, and no license. Legally no one will acknowledge our little ceremony but us. So you know we got married on September twenty-fifth.”
Before I could ask her what she’d meant about something being taken from me, she bit her bottom lip and peered at me under her lashes in that way that sends my pulse racing. My good hand cupped her cheek and pulled so I could know the pleasure of her kiss again. When she finished she pulled me upstairs to bed.
Someone call 911! Why isn’t anyone responding? Charlotte stood frozen. The two men with the flame-throwers were still firing at the man in front of her. It was grisly watching him burn but he’d stepped in front of her. He’d taken the full brunt. They’d been aiming at her. I felt I knew him; that I owed him something, but his name was just out of reach. Torn between running to him, running towards the men who were burning him, or running to Charlotte, the decision was made when she collapsed and started glowing in a blue hue.
I scooped her up in my arms. Her skin burned mine but I had to pull her away from the flames. When she was safe I turned back to the man. Not that I have a lot of experience with watching men burn, but what I was seeing just didn’t make any sense. His body and flesh remained intact; it didn’t char or fall away. He stood straight in the center of the flames, pulsating. After a few throbs I realized his frame was shrinking in on itself with each pulse. I hollered for them to stop. It didn’t matter, within seconds he disappeared from my sight. The weird blue flames ceased and the world went dark.
I shot up in the bed. I couldn’t breathe and I was sweating profusely. “Wesley, was it the nightmare again?” Charlotte asked as she put her arms around me.
Thank God, she was right there. I pulled her into my arms, focusing on her warmth. It was just a dream. The trouble was it seemed so real. I’d never suffered from nightmares before our kidnapping but this same recurring scene haunted my nights a few times a week. Charlotte thought it was just a way my mind was coping with the horrors I’d experienced but didn’t want to remember. The doctor concurred. I just hoped the image of that poor man blinking out of existence wouldn’t stick with me for the rest of my life. Her kiss instantly put me at ease. “Yes, but I’m better now.”
As the days turned into weeks, I noticed a slight change in my wife. Every now and again I’d catch her staring mournfully at the house behind ours. Most times this occurred when she was sitting on the chaise in our bedroom or on the swing on our patio. I’d asked her about it a few times in the beginning. She’d just offer me a fake smile and say, “nothing, just caught in my mind, I guess.” But when I caught her crying and mumbling that blue was for grace and redemption, I refused to accept the brush off. She’d never kept anything from me before. She’d always been an open book. In my condition she easily broke free of my grasp. “Wesley, let it go. It’s nothing that concerns you.” There wasn’t malice in her words. She almost sounded afraid.
“Charlotte, please, I’m your husband. I can comfort you but it would be so much easier if I knew what you needed. If I knew what was making you so upset.” I reached out to take her hand, bringing it to my lips. “What is it about that house?”
With closed eyes she exhaled slowly. She answered but wouldn’t look at me. “The man who lived there was a good, lovely man. We got to know each other well while you were on the campaign trail and I miss him, is all.”
Okay, well that was an easy fix. I was confused about why she was upsetting herself. I know I get jealous at times but there’s nothing to be jealous about anymore. She’d given me her heart, was wearing my ring, and carrying my child. “You don’t have to avoid him for my sake. If you want, go visit him. Don’t let me stop you.”
I’d thought my words would bring her relief. If anything the tears ceased coming as single drops but began running as rivers from her eyes. Her legs tried to carry her backwards away from me, as if she wanted to flee but her torso tensed, as if the two halves were waging a war for her reaction. I painfully watched her rein in her emotions, tuck them away, and open bleary, red-rimmed, veiled eyes to me. “Thank you. But he’s not there anymore. And before you ask, I can’t talk about what happened to him.” With that she calmly walked out of the room and within minutes I heard her puttering around in the kitchen making dinner. I sat there until she called me to eat, pondering what I could do to give my love her carefree spirit back. Leaving the room myself, I felt I had a pretty good idea of what might do the trick.
Thanksgiving came and went and Christmas was fast approaching. The doctor said I was progressing nicely and everything was on course for the casts to be removed before Christmas. The baby, too, was progressing nicely, though the morning sickness was wreaking havoc on Charlotte’s body. Just in the last week it had gotten so bad and she’d lost so much weight that the doctor had decided it was time to put her on some actual medication. Given her history they’d both been reluctant to put her on anything but as much as I wanted this baby, I wanted my wife more. I wasn’t willing to lose her. In just the few days she’d been on the medicine, the pallor in her cheeks had vanished and they were rosy, her skin looked peachy instead of gray, and her figure was becoming fuller.
We’d agreed to a low-key holiday, saving our money to purchase items for the baby if Charlotte safely made it to the third trimester. It’s not like we wanted for anything. As her health continued to improve, she still had moments when I wondered what she was thinking and why she wasn’t unburdening herself to me. Since I’d confronted her about the back neighbor, she’d become more adept at hiding her grief over him but I’d still catch her at times. When I did, I respected her privacy and would retreat, unobserved. I’d noticed she’d taken to keeping some giant tome by the chaise which she’d read and that was when I’d find her mourning him. Asking once about the book because when I’d inspected it I couldn’t read it, she’d shot me a look that unequivocally insisted I never do so again. So I didn’t, confident in time she’d get over him. But remembering it had taken her well over a year to come back to herself after Giles had passed I wondered what this mysterious man had truly meant to her.
Thankfully my casts were removed two days before Christmas. We went to her father’s Christmas Eve for dinner and spent the night. Christmas morning was amusing. It always was with her dad. He’d gone overboard with buying things for his grandbaby. Charlotte was slightly embarrassed by his generosity, not because she didn’t appreciate his gesture but she was fearful of what would happen if she lost the baby. Even with the constant verification from the doctor that her every other week appointments afforded her, she was not confident a living, breathing child would be placed in her arms at the end. She’d grown superstitious and refused to even talk about the pregnancy with anyone other than the doctor and myself. She wouldn’t even talk to Paige about it. The school didn’t know.
Christmas evening I didn’t take her immediately home. “Darling, you missed our exit.”
“Um, no I didn’t.” I anticipated questions and was stunned when they never came. Charlotte put out her hand and I took it, bringing her fingers to my lips. A few minutes later, I took an exit and soon we were at our destination, Celebration in the Oaks. The valet took our car after I walked around to collect her.
With a quiz
zical gaze her eyes swept the practically empty parking lot but she spotted a few vehicles she recognized. “Wesley, what’s going on?”
“All in good time, my love.” I shot her my most charming smile as I led her into the park. All too soon we were at our destination and I had to leave her. “Through those doors and I’ll see you in an hour or so.” Charlotte’s eyes grew saucer wide as her mouth fell to make a perfect ‘O’. If I didn’t leave her now though I didn’t know if I’d be able to, no matter my plans. I opened the door and gave her a gentle shove inside before closing it, removing her from my presence.
When next I laid eyes on Charlotte there was a short walk way between us. Tristan and Spencer were standing beside me with Paige across from us. Even without the attire and make-up befitting the occasion, I wouldn’t have been able to tear my eyes from her. Her hair was hanging in curls around her face, the make-up accenting her stunning emerald eyes, and then there was her dress. Paige had picked it out for me, saying she’d gotten a pretty good idea of what Charlotte would want from when they’d gone shopping for Paige’s wedding. My wife looked like the goddess I’d always known she was. If there hadn’t been a restraining hand at my shoulder, I’d have taken off down the aisle to sweep her into my arms and carry her away.
I’d planned and executed our legal wedding, all without her being the wiser. We’d applied for the license together and she’d set a date after the birth of our baby but I wanted to be married before then. What better place to do that than the one where our romantic lives began on the anniversary of when she’d taken me as her amator. Finally, her father delivered her to me and with a tear sitting along the ledge of the lids in each of his eyes he offered me her hand. Thanking him, I took the hand of the woman who’d already given me her heart.
