Page 59 of When You Smile

Even Danny.

Across the room, she watched as her now ex held court as the entire graduate department listened to him talk about all the literary agents who wanted to take him on once he was ready to shop his work around. The last name McHenry brought forth a lot of opportunities, and she wasn’t one to complain. Monica had made the connection with June DiCarlo, and she’d be forever grateful for that open door.

“Your mother was special to me, Charlie, and I will always look out for you,” Monica once told her, pulling her into a warm hug. Charlie felt the emotion well at the memory, recognizing how lucky she was to have had someone like Monica step into that maternal role when her mother passed away. Monica checked in on Charlie, took her in on holidays, hugged her tight, and made her feel like she was forever in her corner. She exhaled as Danny accepted a refill of champagne and made his way toward her. She took a deep breath and prepared herself.

“Happy holidays,” he said, running a hand over the thin beard and mustache he’d added since their breakup. “I wanted to talk about the Christmas break.”

“Okay, we can do that.”

“I know you’ve spent the last few years with my family, and if you still want to join us, it’s definitely something that we can talk about.”

“I just think it might be a little awkward, given where we are now.”

“Speaking of which, Mom got into town today to help me pack and drive back. She mentioned getting together with you, something about handing off some of your mother’s books.”

“Sounds good. I’d love that. Have you told her?”

He studied his glass. “She’s already naming our children, Charlie.”

That part tore at her. She remembered the two moms making plans to babysit together. “So what’s the plan? We can’t keep leading her on. She should know the truth.”

He hesitated. “I think I kept waiting for you to say you’d made a mistake.” There was a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they’d talked.

Charlie softened, because none of this with Danny was easy. “As hard as it is to say, I don’t think I did make one. I’m still figuring out who I am, Danny, and part of that is learning who I fit with. We’re not a match.”

He straightened. “I hear you. I don’t have to like it, but I can understand.” He met her gaze. “I’ll talk to her when I get home tonight. Tell her everything.”

“Thank you.” Charlie honestly didn’t know how Monica would take the news. She was protective of Danny, but she loved Charlie, too. Surely, she’d understand, even if shouldering disappointment. Suddenly, all kinds of doubt descended. “And if there’s anything I can do to make sure everyone’s okay, please let me know. I’ll definitely give her a call tomorrow to check in. Maybe we can even go for coffee when she brings the books.” It was wishful thinking, but Charlie felt a strong call to hold on to her relationship with Monica. Danny, too. They were her family, and she hoped they felt the same way.

“Yep.” He nodded, killed the rest of his glass, and lifted it to her. It seemed he was done with the conversation. “Anyway, Merry Christmas.”

She deflated. “To you, too.”

By the time Charlie made it home, her feet hurt from the high-heeled boots, and the red sweaterdress she’d selected was itchier than it was fashionable, and Taryn was out with friends and hadn’t so much as checked in, which meant her feelings were still hurt and all Charlie wanted in the whole damn world was to crawl into bed and escape.

That’s when Charlie saw her, and the vibrations went quiet. Her stresses were placed on pause. Unless, of course, she was hallucinating. “Taryn?”

“Hey, you,” Taryn said, standing from her spot on the stairs in front of Charlie’s apartment. “I hope you have the magic key that will take us inside. Provided it’s okay I’m here.”

Without a word, she moved straight into Taryn’s arms, grateful when Taryn caught her and wrapped her arms around Charlie wordlessly. For a minute, they stood just like that, holding each other and hovering happily in the feel of it. She breathed in Taryn, her hair, her smell, the press of her cheek. It had only been a couple of days on the calendar, but the time apart had taken a toll.

“I’m sorry I’ve been an ass lately,” Taryn said quietly into her hair.

“I’m sorry I acted like a frightened child when Emerson showed up the other day.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I probably smell like a snack mix and beer.”

“I’m sorry that my sweater is itchy.” Charlie lifted her face, propped her chin up on Taryn’s collarbone, and looked her in the eye.

“We’re an apologetic pair,” Taryn said.

“I want to get in bed and be a vegetable. Want to be a vegetable?”

“If veggie status is on the table, then yes, I want it.”

Charlie laughed not out of just amusement but relief. They were going to be okay. She was. Taryn was. She let them into the apartment, flipped on some lights, grabbed a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses. With them dangling upside down over her shoulder, Charlie inclined her head for Taryn to follow. She’d never been in Charlie’s bedroom, and the newness of her presence there carried a certain hum of forbidden tension. This was new territory.

Charlie opened the bottle and began to pour the red wine for them. “Action or rom-com?”

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