by Anna Brooks
“What do you mean freaking out? He was super calm with me yesterday. I walked away from that car, Meara. I sat down and couldn’t get Caroline out of my mind. I haven't thought about her in a while, actually, which made me feel guilty. Then Travis shows up. One touch and bam, Charlotte was seventeen years old again and in love with a man she couldn’t have.”
“Stop talking about yourself in the third person, it’s annoying. And he was freaking out because he didn’t know you were back. He said he saw you sitting there in the snow and thought he was hallucinating. Think of it from his side. How do you think you would have felt in his position?”
“What am I going to do?” I groan and take a bite of cheesy goodness awaiting her reply, but it doesn’t come. “I said, what am I going to do?” I look expectantly at my cousin. Aside from her short red pixie cut and multiple piercings and tattoos, we look identical. When we were kids, we used to get asked if we were twins all the time. If she didn’t have so much body art, we still would.
“Same thing I’ve been telling you. You tell him everything. You tell him the truth. You tell him about what happened after your parents died. You tell him about Todd. You tell him you still love him,” she says nonchalantly.
“Yeah, okay. I open the door and say, ‘Hey, Travis. I was with a guy who fucked me not only in ways that would make a porn star blush, but he fucked my brain so bad that I have to see a therapist and take anxiety meds. Oh, and I’m still in love with you.”
“Well, not exactly like that,” she whispers.
“I couldn’t even look at him, Meara. I don’t want him to find out; I’m too ashamed.”
“I know you don’t. Nobody’s saying you have to do it today, but eventually you’ll probably have to.”
“Why? It’s not like he still cares.”
“That is such shit, and you know it. Char, he cares. You know the guy has feelings for you. I don’t think he would judge you like you’re thinking.”
She’s right, and I think that’s what scares me the most. Knowing this wonderful man would accept me for who I am, even though I don’t deserve it. There are two things in my life that I’m utterly embarrassed about. One of them is the relationship I found myself in with Todd, and the other is how I lied to Travis. If I could go back in time, even after everything I went through with Todd, the only thing I would ever change would be that one lie to Travis. He will never trust me again.
Chapter 9
Charlotte
I WAKE UP SOMETIME in the middle of the night with a dry throat and an empty belly. Deciding I need to eat something, I head to the kitchen. As I’m pulling a plate out of the cupboard, I see the figure of a man out of the corner of my eye and scream. I drop the plate, and it shatters all over the floor, pieces of glass landing everywhere.
“Charlotte, it’s me,” Travis says softly as he turns on the kitchen light.
“You scared me. Holy crap.” I gasp for air and try to steady my breathing, something my therapist taught me to do when I feel a panic attack coming on. In for three, out for three. I repeat this five times, and like always, it works.
“Sorry. I called Meara to check on you, and she told me where you live. Don’t move; there’s glass all over.” He walks over, lifting me up gingerly, and sets me on the counter. I watch him in confusion as he cleans up the glass. I was right about his hair. It’s still shaved on the sides, but now it’s faded so there’s enough on top for it to stand up when he runs his fingers through it.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out.
He throws the last of the pieces away and walks over to me, standing between my legs. He grabs a chunk of my now auburn hair and rubs it between his fingers before putting it behind my ear.
“Why did you color your hair?”
“Because I wanted a change. What are you doing here, Travis?” His being here is throwing me off. Part of me wants to grab onto him and never let go, while the other part wants to push him out the door. If he ever finds out about what I’ve done, he’ll never look at me the same. I want him to remember the girl I was, not the broken one I am today.
“Do you have to ask?”
“Well, obviously you’re here because of me, but what I mean is, you don’t have to be here. I’m fine, really.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Now, why are you up? Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“Go back to bed, I’ll bring you something. What do you want? Meara said you were out of food, so I picked up some stuff on my way.”
“Travis, seriously, I can—”
“Char, stop. I know it’s been a while, but I still meant every damn word I said. Now tell me what you want to eat.”
“Just a sandwich, no may—”
“French dressing instead. Char, seriously?” He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head like I’m an idiot, and I guess I am.
“I didn’t think you’d remember.”
He looks over his shoulder, and his eyes bore into mine. “I remember everything about you. Now go to back bed, I’ll be right there.”
I lie in my bed and turn on a sitcom repeat. A few minutes later, he comes in with a sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk, my guilty pleasure. He really does remember everything. He hands me the plate, sets the glass on my nightstand, and sits next to me while I eat. When I’m finished, I turn my head to look at the man I’ve dreamt about for the last four years.
“I don’t even know what to say to you,” I tell him honestly.
“You can start with why you didn’t tell me you’re back.” His eyes pierce into mine with such intensity I have to look away.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to continue with honesty. “I’ve dealt with a lot of shit the past four years. I take that back. I’m still dealing with it. I guess I wanted to get adjusted before I brought you back into my life.”
“Why is that?” I hear the hint of humor in his voice. He’s going to make me say it.
“Because of our history. I know that your being around will throw me off what I’m trying to accomplish.” I take another deep breath and gather my thoughts. “That sounded a lot meaner than I meant it.”
“I know what you meant. It’s the same with you still, you know. The second I saw you, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Things are going to be different now with us. You need to know that I’m not the same guy I was the last time you saw me. And I was serious when I said I’d be waiting for you. Years apart and distance haven’t changed the way I feel about you.”
“But I lied to you.”
“You lied because you wanted to be with me,” he says, completely serious, evident by the thin line of his lips.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“Do you still want that?”
“I’m scared.”
“We’ll figure it out together. For now, just rest.”
I can’t discuss the future when I’m still so messed up from my past. Being this close to him has my heart rate accelerating and my palms sweaty. “I bet you’re happy. Being a firefighter.”
He smiles. The kind of smile I know he doesn’t show everyone. The one that allows his dimple to show. “You know I am. It’s everything I thought it would be. The worst part of the job is not getting there fast enough to save someone, but that’s also a personal thing for me.” His smile fades as quickly as it came, and I know the reason behind the sadness. He harbors guilt for not getting to his ex fast enough.
I try to hide a yawn, but he sees it and laughs.
“You need some sleep.” He leaves the bed and walks around to tuck me in. Then he leans down and gives me a kiss, his lips lingering on my cheek. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but let me know if you need anything else. Tomorrow I want you to tell me what’s hiding behind those beautiful blue eyes of yours.”
* * *
The next morning, I feel nauseated. I finally decide to get up when I hear him moving around. Knowing he’s here, and that he’ll continue to ask questions I’m not ready to answer, is mak
ing me nervous.
After freshening up and throwing on some skinny jeans and a t-shirt, I find Travis in the kitchen making breakfast. He has his back to me, and I lean on the doorframe to watch him. I can smell the bacon frying, but that’s not what’s making me hungry. The old faded blue jeans he’s wearing hug his ass perfectly. There’s a hole by the back pocket, and I can see his black boxer briefs underneath it. His tight black t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, and the muscles in his forearm bulge slightly as he lifts the pan from the stove.
When he turns to put it into the sink, he spots me and smiles. “Morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
Suddenly self-conscious that he caught me staring, I push away from the door and go to the fridge for some orange juice. I keep my face hidden behind my hair, hopeful he can’t see the pink hue my cheeks have taken on. “I feel pretty good. Whatcha making?”
“Your favorite.”
“Really?” I squeal and peer over his shoulder to see two plates of French toast and bacon.
“Yup, it’s ready. Sit down and eat.”
We take our seats on opposite sides of the breakfast bar in my tiny kitchen. I used some of the money I received from my parents’ life insurance policies and the sale of our house in Texas to buy my condo. It’s perfect for me. Two bedrooms and one bathroom with an open concept throughout the rest. Being only a few blocks from the lake and the balcony are what sold me on the place. Plus, I don’t have to do any yard work. I never want to do yard work again as long as I live.
He slides the plate toward me and pours us each a glass of juice. I don’t wait for him to start before I cut a piece and dig in.
“Ohmigod—heaven.” I groan as I take my first bite. “I wish you would tell me how you make this. I’ve never had French toast that’s crunchy on the outside.”
“It’s my mom’s recipe. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” He laughs, taking a bite.
There are no words spoken as we eat, but we keep making eye contact, and I smile every time it happens. I finish my food in record time, and without thinking, I tell him, “I haven’t had breakfast with anyone since you all those years ago.”
“What, not even your mom?” His brows come together, and his voice reflects shock.
Shit, I didn’t mean to say that. I quickly get up and grab my dirty dishes. I busy myself cleaning them since I don’t have a dishwasher, the only downside of this place.
His stool scrapes along the floor, and his steps get closer. He stands behind me at the sink and boxes me in with his arms, his chest flush with my back. An involuntary shudder courses through my body when he moves the hair off the right side of my neck and replaces it with his mouth. “Do you have any idea how hard it was waiting for you to come back to me? How badly I wanted to get you and bring you back here?”
“Why didn’t you?” I pant.
“I saw you with him. You opened the door, and when he leaned down and kissed you, my heart was ripped out of my chest and stomped on right in front of me.” He rests his head on my shoulder and tightens his arms around me. “I couldn’t believe you moved on. Took every fucking ounce of strength I had not to knock his ass out and make you come with me. But you seemed so comfortable with him, so happy. Fuck. It killed me, but I ended up walking away. Hardest thing I’ve ever had do. You deserve happiness, even if it isn’t with me.”
I’m stunned speechless. If I had known he came down for me, I would have dropped everything. I would have left that life to be with him. I remember the day he’s talking about. It was the day I thought I saw him. Things with Todd were still new, so I was happy to see him. He clouded my judgment, and I ended up with him for way too long. In that time, he changed me into a person I’m not proud of. I’m trying to get my old self back, and with the help of my therapist, I’m almost there.
“There’s something else going on with you, though.”
“How do you know?” I sigh as his mouth trails feather light kisses up and down my neck. The combination of his day old stubble and the whisper of his tongue have me weak in the knees. I grip the edge of the countertop to keep from falling.
“Your eyes, sweetheart. They tell me everything without you having to say a word, they always did. And you not looking into mine is all the proof I need. Tell me. Let me help you.”
God, I want this man. Everything about him is perfect for me, but I can’t. I’m too afraid of how he’ll react. The longer I hold him off, the longer I can prepare myself. I have to talk to my therapist because I don’t know if I can lose him when he finds out. I can’t lose another person that I love. “Travis, I can’t,” I reply staring down at the water that is circling around the drain.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But this…” He grips my shoulders and turns me around, forcing me to look at him as he frames my face with his strong hands. Those eyes that remind me so much of the lake penetrate through me and see more than anyone ever has. “This is nowhere near over.” He runs his thumb over my lip and smiles before turning to walk away.
Chapter 10
Charlotte
“LAST SESSION, YOU WERE hesitant to talk about your breaking point. Do you want to share that with me today?”
I look up at my therapist and grin. I’ve been meeting with her for almost six months since I moved back. “I was hoping you would forget about that.”
“I bet you did, but it’s my job to remember what you say.” She leans forward on her desk, encouraging me to talk. I guess it’s now or never. I’ve been as vague as possible with her until this point.
“Well, like I told you earlier, Todd came by every Friday night. He brought me dinner and would check on my mom. Then, well, you know what happened.” I look down at my feet, avoiding eye contact, because I’m so embarrassed.
“I want you to tell me in your own words what happened.”
“We had sex.”
“Okay, go on.” She smiles.
“My mother’s funeral was on a Thursday. He was there and gave me his condolences. I didn’t expect him to show up the next night, but he did. After he, umm, tied me up and stuff, he said he would be right back. This wasn’t unusual. He often left me lying there waiting for him. I think it was all part of the control.” I take a sip of water and continue, trying to get the words to come out right.
“Anyways, when he came back, he dragged something across my skin. I couldn’t see it because I was blindfolded.” I look back up to see Dr. Reynolds nodding. “The first time he struck me, I was so confused. I tried to tell him to stop, but he didn’t hear me through the gag. Or probably thought I was enjoying it. Either way, he didn’t stop. He only hit me a few more times, but it was enough to leave scars.” The permanent marks on my lower back are a constant reminder of what a fool I had become.
“So, you’re telling me that the day after your mother's funeral, the man that you had been having a sexual relationship with, who happens to be your mother's doctor and who is fourteen years older than you, shows up after he’s already tied you up, blindfolded you, and gagged you?” Dr. Reynolds asks. I nod. “And you’re telling me that you had consensual sex. You said, ‘Yes, I want this’?”
“Well, yes. I mean no. He never asked me if I wanted to be hit, but he never asked me when he tried something new on me as it was. He couldn’t have known.” I shake my head when I realize I’m defending him. “Afterwards, he told me that he thought the pain was a great way for me to get my mind off of everything that I went through the day before. It wasn’t until after he left that I realized what happened. I can’t believe how pathetic I sound.” Dropping my head in my hands, I shake it, frustrated with myself.
“No, it’s not pathetic at all, Charlotte. You said you realized what happened. What did you realize?”
“That he didn’t even ask me if I wanted it!” My voice rises as I tell her my epiphany. “He didn’t care about me at all. I realized that I was not an equal in our so-called relationship.” I wipe my eyes to prevent the tears from
falling and give a sarcastic laugh. “God, I can't believe I was so stupid.”
“Charlotte, look at me.” She pauses and waits for me to comply.
“You are not stupid. You were a young, naive girl in an impossibly tragic situation. There is nothing wrong in looking for some comfort. I’ve told you before, you were not wrong. He was wrong. He was supposed to be there as your dying mother’s doctor, not a sexual partner. You were eighteen when you met him. You were manipulated into thinking he was what you wanted when all along what you needed was a support system.” She leans back in her chair and takes a deep breath. “What this man did to you, Charlotte, it’s one of the worst cases of narcissism I’ve ever seen.”
I copy her by taking a deep breath, as well, and then let the fury fly. “I never told him no. How can you continue saying I was manipulated when I know damn well I liked it! Up until the day I decided I was done, I craved it. I counted down the minutes until I would see him again. It was the only time I felt alive, the only time I didn’t feel alone or empty. I wanted it. Every. Damn. Time!”
“If you wanted it so bad, then why did you vomit after he left? Every. Damn. Time.” She raises her eyebrow in question.
“That didn’t start right away,” I snap defensively and get another tissue to wipe my eyes again. “I know, okay. I get it. I was young, maybe it went too far. But I don't think he manipulated me. How can it be manipulation when, after all this time, I actually miss him? Well, not him, per se. But what he made me feel. If he showed up tonight, I’m not so sure I would push him away. It doesn't make any sense because I realize now our relationship was wrong on so many levels. But it’s not like he beat me or anything, except for that night, and I don’t consider that getting beaten. Now I’m babbling; I can’t even get my thoughts straight.”
“Just because you weren’t beaten doesn’t mean you weren’t abused. I want you to think about that until next week, okay?”
I nod in agreement.
