Page 32 of A Second Chance Christmas Kiss

Charles leaned back. “What do you want to know?”

I picked up my water and took a sip. “I guess everything. Start when we … quit talking.”

“Quit talking?” he repeated. “Okay, if that’s what you want to call me trying to interrupt your wedding and you turning me down flat.”

I didn’t respond to that. There was too much to sort through first. “Continue,” I said, flashing a smile I didn’t really feel.

“You want nineteen years?”

I nodded. “If you’ll give them to me.”

For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something snarky, but then he returned my half smile. “Well, after you sent me away at the wedding …”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You sound so dramatic.”

He put his hands in the air. “It was dramatic, and I will get more answers out of you, but I promised to go first.”

I waited.

“I don’t know if you know or not, but that next year I took leave from Harvard. I joined the Navy, and then I became a SEAL. After six years of being a SEAL, I came back and finished my law degree at Harvard.”

I nodded. “My mother did keep me up to speed about you.”

He shook his head, and another small smile played at his lips. “That’s interesting. More on that later. I think you knew I married a woman named Sheila.”

“I heard. Tell me about it. If you want to.”

He wagged a finger at me. “I don’t want to, but I want answers from you later, so I will.”

My heart ratcheted up a notch. It was tit for tat. I supposed I could live with that. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be around him.

“We were married for almost five years. I’m not sure if it ended because of her affair, or because the fertility treatments didn’t work, and it took us to a bad place emotionally.”

My jaw dropped. “She had an affair?”

He nodded, then took a sip of water, looking away.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“It was a dark time for me. I’m not going to lie; I questioned a lot of things during that time. Especially my faith. The purpose of life.”

I reached across the table and put my hand over his. “I can imagine.”

He inhaled a long breath. “I’m sure you’ve experienced this or had friends who went through it.”

I nodded. “I’ve had close friends go through infertility problems. It has always made me feel sort of guilty, because when I decided to have Will, we got pregnant right away. Though …” I trailed off and pulled my hand back.

“What?” He leaned in, listening intently.

I rapidly blinked, looking down. I didn’t want to tell him, but it tumbled out. “I wanted more children, but Peter didn’t. One was enough for him.” I sighed and met his gaze. “We fought about it, but I felt like I didn’t have the power in the relationship. I mean, he was earning the money, and he said no, and I was staying at home and …” Why was I going on about this? “I didn’t want to talk about myself.”

We were both quiet for a few seconds.

“I want to talk about you,” he said softly. “That’s what old friends do. We talk about life, about the joy, the pain, the disappointments.”

“True.” I gave him a soft smile. “Then you keep going. I want to hear more.”

He gave me a winning smile. “You mean you want to hear more of my messiness?”

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