Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Charlie’s mouth opens like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She just listens.
“I was there. I was there when she died. I was lying next to her in that hospital bed. I spent every night with her, holding her until she fell asleep. I woke up that morning, and she was gone. She was dead in my arms, and I didn’t even know. I was goddamn asleep when she died.”
I choke on the last word, my voice failing, and I turn away from Charlie, staring into the empty street. The cold is cutting through me now, deep and painful, but I don’t move.
“When I started at Eastwood College, I lied to anyone who asked me about my past relationship, because I couldn’t take the pity anymore, not after dealing with it in high school. So I made up the story, and it was easier that way. But I’m not fine, Charlie. I’m not okay, and I never will be.”
I finally look back at her. Her eyelashes glisten with tears that haven’t fallen yet. And suddenly, the words I’ve been fighting are there, rushing up before I can push them down again.
“I’m scared of losing you too,” I blurt out. “I’m scared because I love you. I love you, and I don’t know what the hell to do with that.”
Her face crumples, and then she’s stepping forward, throwing her arms around me. I feel her warmth against my chilled skin, the contrast so sharp it makes me dizzy. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her scent, grounding myself in the reality that she’s here. Alive.
She’s whispering something, but I can’t hear it over the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears. She holds me tighter, her small frame somehow anchoring me, bringing me back from the edge. I’m trembling, and I don’t know if it’s from the cold or the emotions pouring out of me.
“Let’s go inside,” she says, pulling back to look at me. “You’re freezing.”
I nod, letting her lead me back to the house, back to warmth, back to them. But as we step inside and the heat of the house wraps around me, the only thing I feel is her. Her hand in mine, steady and sure.
“Beck,” she says, as if reading my mind.
“Yeah?” We both hear the crack in my voice.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
My throat closes up.
“I mean it. You’re not going to lose me.”
I manage a nod. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this time, I won’t lose everything. It’s not going to be easy, though. I know it won’t. I know there are still parts of myself I’m not ready to share, wounds that haven’t fully healed. But I also know that I don’t want to lose Charlie. Or Will.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHARLOTTE
I belong here
HARRISON’S BIRTHDAY FALLS ON AN UNUSUALLY WARM SATURDAY IN mid-March. Somehow, the temperature rises ten degrees and all the snow melts three days before he arrives, as if the weather knows I desperately need a nice, sunny weekend with my brother.
But there’s no sunshine in Harrison’s eyes when he steps out of the airport toward the pickup area. I drove all the way to Logan Airport to collect him, and he barely gives me a smile.
His shoulders are hunched against the cold, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn-out jacket. He doesn’t look like someone who’s here to celebrate a birthday.
“Hi,” I say, trying to keep my voice light as I greet him with a hug. He stiffens slightly before giving in, wrapping his arms around me in a way that feels both familiar and distant. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“How was the flight?”
“Shitty.”
Awesome. This is off to a super fun start.
“So what’s the plan?” he asks once we’re in the front seat of my car.
I move the gearshift into drive. “I thought we would spend a couple hours outdoors. You could stretch your legs after that long flight, and I can breathe some real air. I’ve been locked up in the engineering lab all week,” I say ruefully.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
“Okay, great. There’s this trail I thought you’d like. It follows the river and has the prettiest lookouts.”
He nods, but the excitement I hoped to see isn’t there. We drive mostly in silence. I keep sneaking glances at him, searching for any sign that today might be different. That we might actually connect. But all I see is the same guarded expression he’s had since we first met.
This trail system is one of my favorites, located outside the city. I park in the free lot at the head of the trail.
“Ready?” I chirp at my dour-faced companion.
Harrison sighs, but he gets out of the car, shoving his hands into his pockets again as we start down the path.
The trees are bare, their branches reaching out like skeletons against the clear sky. It’s peaceful here, the kind of place where you can hear yourself think. I hope it’ll help us talk.