by Layne Harper
The air is cold and damp in the pool house and there’s a faint smell of chlorine. I hate that she’s been in here all night. I had no idea that it was so poorly insulated. I would have forced her inside.
I drop my crutches and hop on one leg to get to her as quickly as possible. I sit down on the couch next to her and pull her onto my lap, tucking the blanket around both of us. I rock her gently back and forth, and kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a stupid asshole.”
That makes her cry harder. “Talk to me, baby. Get it all out. I can’t stand you not loving me. I don’t sleep without you pressed next to me. I can’t eat. I need you, Charlie. I need you to forgive me. I can’t take you being angry with me any longer.”
I feel her shivering in my arms. I’m crazy mad at myself that I can’t pick her up and carry her into our warm home, and wrap her in our goose down duvet. I can’t take off her hideous pajamas and press my naked body against hers. I silently curse my broken leg for so many more reasons than just this.
I keep talking, because at least she isn’t kicking me out. “Our family arrives today. Let’s make this right before they come. This is our first Christmas married. Please, forgive me, so that we can have a decent holiday. You own me, Charlie. Just tell me what I have to do to make you forgive me, and I’ll do it.”
I feel her tears soak through my sweatshirt and dampen my chest. God, this is punishment enough. I did this to her. I’d cut my own heart out before I would make her feel this way, ever again. “Please forgive me,” I pray into her hair.
Finally, she picks her head up and says, through ragged breaths, “Just tell me why. Don’t lie to me, or tell me what you think I want to hear. Just tell me why you did it.”
God, what a loaded question. I sigh, and adjust her in my lap so she can see me better. When I do, I see her red rimmed, swollen eyes and blotchy cheeks that steal my breath. I’m positive that she didn’t sleep last night either.
I don’t even know how to explain it, so I just start talking and assume that maybe she’ll find her answers in my rambling. “Since you and I’ve gotten back together, I’ve felt like I’ve needed to clean up my past so it doesn’t contaminate our future.” I figure it’s time to put all of my cards on the table so we can move forward. “I lied to you once about having a sponsor commitment.” I watch her face fall. “I went to Houston and met with your dad.” I can see the wheels turning in her brain. She’s trying to figure out when I did this. “It was right after your thirtieth birthday party. I told him how upset you were that he didn’t show up. We had a frank discussion. Then, I met with Doctor Benson, and asked for some tips on what I could do to help you get better. My last stop was to go to your town home and get all of this.” I gesture to all of her things that surround us.
“I’m also trying to find my ex-wife and make sure that she’s happy with her money, and is going to stay in the shadows. And yesterday was about making sure Jenna remembers that she’s signed an NDA.”
“Finding out who told Kenzie was the last thing that needed cleaning. I wanted to clear Mark’s name, for my own peace of mind, but I also wanted to know who could drag more garbage out of the closet. When I found out it was Jenna, I flipped my shit. I mean, I knew Jenna was catty, but I had no idea that she’d pull some shit like this. I guess I did what Jenna and I always would do—meet at the hotel.”
“Jenna said that you and her had threesomes,” Charlie says, in a small voice. She looks away from, studying her hands. She’s ashamed to bring it up.
I adjust her on my lap, so I can see her better. “I’m not going to lie to you. We did. Honey, you have to understand that Jenna and I have a complex history. It’s not healthy, and there’s no need to sicken you with the details. Let’s just say that, for a while, she let me do things to her that I thought I needed to do. I never needed to act that way. All I ever needed was you back in my life.”
“What kind of things?” she asks.
I knew I wasn’t getting off the hook that easily. I don’t want to tell her, but I know that I have to. I know her well enough to know that she’s not going to forgive me until she’s satisfied with my answers. “Jenna never challenged me. She let me have her any way that I chose even if that meant bringing in other women—” I pause, and take a deep breath. “—like Kenzie.”
I just let that hang out there, and see what direction Charlie tries to take it. “You and Jenna and Kenzie fucked?” she asks, looking like she just tasted something very bitter.
“Yeah, and more than once. I told you that I had a past that wasn’t pretty. I thought that I needed it, but I don’t. I really didn’t need it then, either. I was just fuckin’ off. I was an asshole. I did it because I could.” I reach up and run my hand through my hair wishing that I could take a giant eraser and scrub away my past. “Look. Don’t let this ruin us, Charlie. Jenna isn’t worth it. Let’s put this behind us, and focus on what’s important. Our life, now, and our future.”
“Would you have had sex with her if I hadn’t shown up?” Charlie asks as she searches my eyes desperately for the answer.
“Absolutely not. You’re the only woman that I want and need. I almost flipped my shit when I walked into the hotel room, and she was dressed like that,” I say. Then, I backtrack, because my chest begins to tighten and my stomach does a nauseated flip. “That’s not entirely true, Charlie. When I called her and asked her to come to Dallas, she believed it was because I wanted to fuck her.”
Charlie begins to say something but stops. She opens her mouth again and closes it. My stomach clenches in anticipation of what she’s going to ask.
“Is what Jenna said true? I was just a goal for you, like winning the Super Bowl? Me and a championship were the only things that you haven’t been able to conquer.”
Just hearing those words come out of her mouth makes me feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. She thinks that I wanted her, like she was a fucking trophy? I kiss her forehead and tuck her even closer to my body. “Do you think that, Charlie? Do you really believe that’s what you’ve been to me? An unobtainable goal?”
“The thought crossed my mind when we first got back together,” she admits. Fuck! Her words are a knife through my heart. All I’ve done since we found each other again is bend over backwards to shower her with my love, and show her how much I want and need her. I don’t deserve her doubts at all.
In that moment, I wonder if we’ll ever truly be in a place where we completely trust each other. A very ugly thought passes through my head. Maybe we aren’t just a boy and girl in love. Maybe we’re a boy and girl who have hurt each other too much to ever truly move past it.
I do my best to not sound as pissed as I feel. I grit my teeth and grind out, “I hope that the last nine months have erased any doubts that you have about my intentions. But hear this, Charlie. I will not spend the rest of my life walking around on eggshells. I love you. Fucking crazy love you. Acknowledge my love for what it is, and don’t ever fucking question it again.”
The weight on my chest prevents me from breathing while I wait for her reaction. When she doesn’t give me one, we sit there in silence for a few minutes before I say, “I’m freezing my nuts off. Can we at least finish this conversation in the warm house?”
She nods, and I reluctantly let her crawl off my lap. The absence of weight when she moves is a great metaphor for how my heart feels—hollow. She leaves her blanket and pillow in the pool house, which makes me crazy, but at least she’s coming with me.
She stops by the kitchen and grabs a cup of coffee. She sees the empty bottle of bourbon and spins toward me, disappointment etched in her face. “You didn’t.”
“Aiden,” I say, pointing upstairs. “He needed it.”
I watch relief wash over her. “Rachael?”
“Not right now, Charlie. We need to finish discussing us.”
She nods her head in agreement, and walks into our bedroom. I follow behind her, wishing that I could pull her to me and press her bo
dy against mine. Instead, I look down at my blue cast.
She snuggles into the sitting room couch, gripping a throw pillow, but I still see her shiver. I toss my crutches on the ground, and hop to the closet to grab her a blanket. When she sees what I’m doing, she jumps up. “Let me get that, Colin. You sit down.”
“I’ve fucking got this. Sit back down, and let me fucking take care of you,” I growl. “I might have a broken leg, but I’m still your husband.” Total complete overreaction, but I’m sick of being taken care of. I’m done with this shit. I might not be able to walk, but I can hop and get a blanket for my girl. I did promise to take care of her as a part of our wedding vows, and since we got married all she’s done is take care of me.
I hop to the sitting room couch, and sit down on the opposite end and tuck the blanket around her. I grab her feet, pull her socks off, and begin to warm them with my hands. Her feet feel like ice, which makes me crazy mad. Fortunately, she has the good sense to keep her mouth shut, and just let me rub them for her.
Just touching her skin lessens the weight on my chest, and I’m finally able to take a decent breath. She’s staring out the window. Her face looks serene, but her hands betray her inner turmoil. She’s using her finger to pick at a hangnail on her thumb. It takes every bit of control that I have to not lean across the couch cushions to keep her from making it bleed.
“You’ve made our house a home again.” I pause for a moment. “Thank you.” I hope she catches my double meaning. Yes, we have Christmas decorations again. But her being back inside of our house makes it a home. She’s my home.
She smiles a sad smile. “Brad and I had fun.”
“Does he know about what I did?”
She looks sheepish. “I told him. For the record, he’s not mad at you. He just wishes that you’d think before you act.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” I reply in a quiet voice.
We sit there in a comfortable silence; the kind of silence that only two people who really know each other can share. I’m prepared to sit there all day. She’s in my house, in my bedroom. She’s not yelling at me. I interpret this as positive.
Once her feet are warm, I begin massaging up her legs. I’m a pathetic SOB, I know that I am, but just getting to touch her again is heaven. I’m breathing again.
“Want to help me wrap presents?” she asks.
God, Charlie, I want to be wherever the fuck you are. Instead, I reply, “Remember how I cube tomatoes? That’s about as good as I wrap presents.”
“Who normally wraps your gifts?”
A normal conversation that doesn’t involve me fucking up, or her questioning my love? I’ll take it.
“The store, Jenny, or Alice.”
“Well, not anymore, Bambi. We’ve got a closet full of gifts that need to be wrapped before our gang arrives. Let’s get to it.”
“Bambi, huh?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t approve of the nickname.”
She just smiles back at me. “It’s better than asshole, which is which is my second choice.”
I’m not an idiot. I know that all has not been forgiven. But at least she wants to spend time with me. And if it means that I have to wrap gifts all damn day just to be next to her, then that’s what I’ll do.
Chapter Fourteen
Charlie
Jenna Sanchez the longtime friend of Colin McKinney, has confirmed that it was her, Colin McKinney, and Doctor Caroline Collins at the Magnolia Hotel. She refuses to comment on whether or not her and McKinney are involved in a relationship. Photographers caught Jenna arriving at the hotel followed, about an hour later, by McKinney. Doctor Collins arrived approximately fifteen minutes after that. Sources close to CharCol have confirmed that they have hit a speed bump in their relationship. Can they work it out, for the sake of their baby? Only time will tell.
“Do you have another bottle of wine?” Julie asks.
“Yeah, honey. Look in the wine refrigerator in the kitchen. There should be more. If we’re out, add it to the grocery list. I also need sprinkles for the sugar cookies,” I call over my shoulder.
“Does Colin care which rooms we take?” my mom yells from upstairs.
“I think Aiden’s already staying in the one at the top of the stairs. Take any other room that you want,” I yell back.
Christmas music is playing through the speakers all over the house. I quietly sing “Jingle Bells” while I arrange the gifts under the tree. You can definitely tell which gifts Colin wrapped, but Christmas is about family, and not who does the prettiest wrapping job.
“When will Colin be back?” Chelsea asks, as she straightens a bow on a big green box.
“He had to get x-rays on his leg so I’m not sure. Aiden took him.”
Chelsea whispers, just so I can hear, “We’ve all seen the pics. Is everything okay?”
I plaster my best smile on my face. “Misunderstanding.”
Chelsea nods, and keeps straightening the bow. “You know if you ever need anything, we’ve all got your back.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. I jump up to answer it. Susan and John are standing there, with their arms full of gifts. I greet them, and quickly summon my sisters to help me carry their things inside.
“The Christmas lights look great on the new oak trees,” John compliments.
I smile. “Thanks. Colin paid one of the security guys to put them up today. He’s awfully proud of his trees.”
Colin’s parents are pleasant enough. Susan even gives me an attempt at a hug. John’s is more sincere. Of course, their first question is, where is Colin. I explain, and direct them to take their overnight bags upstairs.
Our home is filled with family chaos, and I love it. My mom adds to the grocery list of items that I’m missing that we’ll need for Christmas dinner. Colin’s family has a tradition of making Christmas Eve gumbo. When Susan comes downstairs, she joins my mom and sisters in the kitchen to see what she needs to purchase to prepare it.
I put John to work assembling bicycles. Colin and I bought bikes and helmets for all the kids of the security guys who’ve been so incredible to us these last couple of months. I’d made a list of the kids and their ages. Colin spent more time then he should have meticulously researching what were the best bikes for each age. Then, he’d ordered them, and had them shipped to our house. Tonight, we’re going to load up Big Bertha and deliver them to all the kid’s houses. Who knows? We might decide to do a little Christmas caroling.
When the grocery list is complete, my mom, Susan, and Amy head to the grocery store. Chelsea and Julie have a couple of last-minute gifts to purchase, so off to the mall they go.
I make sure that John is okay before I slip off to the hospital to check on my patients. I swing by Brad’s home and pick him up. He’s really done a great job with the place. It’s a track home and looks like everyone else’s, but Brad’s added his own homey touches. He changed the outdoor lighting to gas lanterns. He painted his front door a beautiful shade of green, that Sarah suggested. He keeps seasonal flowers in his yard.
I watch him bound out of the house in a Santa hat, a T-shirt that says, “Dear Santa, I’ve been naughty,” red suspenders, and blue jeans. His auburn red hair clashes terribly with the hat, but he makes me smile.
“Those don’t look like scrubs,” I say, as he opens my passenger door.
“Just because you choose to not have any Christmas spirit doesn’t mean that you can douse mine,” he quips.
Then, he changes my music to the local station that’s switched from country music to all Christmas, but he turns the volume to low. “Everything forgiven with QueBee?”
There’s no easy way to answer that question. “He’s sorry. He promises to never lie to me again. I’m still hurt, but less hurt than yesterday. I said some stuff that hurt him. As they say, my dear, time heals all wounds.” As I talk, I glance at my wedding ring. I love Colin. Tremendously. I also miss him. We haven’t made love in over five days, and we had to be abstinent
for three days before Colin’s test. Then, with everything that’s happened, I haven’t wanted him to touch me. I long for our physical connection again.
“So, y’all are playing nice for Santa?” he says, as he fidgets with my phone charger.
“I don’t think that we’re necessarily pretending to be something that we’re not. I just think we’re being. Does that make sense?” I flip the turn signal and enter the freeway.
“I guess. So, let me tell you about this guy I met last night at the gym. His name is Marco, and he’s a hot slab of manliness.”
“What happened to Carter?” I ask.
“Oh, he’s still in the picture, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t make new friends.” He places a lot of emphasis on the word “new.”
The rest of the drive to the hospital is filled with Brad regaling me with stories about his new gym buddy. I’m thankful for the distraction, and to just get to listen for a few minutes.
When I pull into the hospital parking lot, I see the media vultures waiting for me. Really? It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you have something better to do? Thing One and Thing Two meet me at my car, and suggest that they drop me off at the entrance.
I roll my eyes. I’ll just suck it up and deal. Brad opens my car’s vanity mirror, checks his teeth and makes sure that he doesn’t have anything in his nose before we walk in. I no longer care how I look.
I’m rushed, as soon as I’m spotted. Brad holds my hand, and the security guards flank us on the left and right sides. The questions are as expected.
