Page 53 of About Time

He turns his head to the side, and I can tell that my words have barely made a scratch in his mood. His brown eyes still smolder as he studies me. “You’re right, I should walk away right now. I could pretend that I’m here for you alone. Pretend that all I want to do is hold you while you cry.”

“So you don’t want to do that?” I ask him.

There’s a long pause while I wait for him to answer. He studies my face, then lifts a hand and tucks an errant strand behind my ear. “I want it too much. I still refuse to anchor you to this town forever, but we can be there for each other right now. Martin and Elisa were only thirty-eight. They should have hadmore time, but they really lived for the time they did have. I need to do more of that.”

“And you want to do that with me?” I’m still so confused about what he’s suggesting.

His eyes scorch me with their intensity. “I’ve never stopped.”

I stand up and turn to face him. “You give me whiplash. I’m your ex-wife. You don’t have a funeral fling with your ex-wife.”

Charlie’s eyebrows rise. “A funeral fling?”

I roll my eyes. “You know, the cliché where funerals make people horny because they are reminded to live. I loved you, Charlie, but I won’t let myself go back there. I lost everything when you pushed me away. My pride tells me not to admit that to you, but I worked really damn hard not to be that woman anymore. I won’t let you bring her back.”

That seems like the best mic drop moment I’m going to get here, so I spin around and start to stroll away. I don’t make it very far before he grabs my hand and pulls me back into him.

His large hand cradles the side of my face, and he stares deep into my eyes. There’s a silent conversation happening there. He’s giving me time to pull away if I meant what I just said. That’s the thing. I wanted to mean every word, but my head and my heart are in disagreement right now.

The nights right after I left town, I thought that if I ever got to be with Charlie again, even one more time, I’d take it. Now, I don’t know if it’s fear, self-preservation, or just being smart, but I want to walk away from him.

Mentally, at least. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, all I want is to let him hold me. No, that’s a lie. What I want is to surrender to him completely and let him take away the pain for just a little while.

As bad as it was to lose him, I survived it. I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the loss of my sister. Charlie has always been a powerful diversion.

“What do you want from me?” I ask softly.

“I want us to live, even for a little while. As long as you’re here, I want you to lean on me.”

“Whatever you say, Sir,” I whisper.

“If you mean that, come over later tonight,” he says.

I know I’m stupid for opening the door to this again, but I can’t help myself. Right now, I need to figure out a way to keep breathing. If Charlie can carry part of this with me, even for a little while, I will let him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Charlie Past- Age 36

There area few stragglers still milling about in the Parker’s living room. There’s also about an hour’s worth of cleaning to do just to remove all the discarded plastic cups and paper plates. Griffin comes out of the kitchen holding several plastic bags and thrusts one of them into Liam’s hand. I hold my hand out for one, and he passes it to me.

Liam looks at the bag like it’s a complex math problem. “What exactly do you want me to do with this?”

Griffin looks at his son like he’s trying to figure out if he can really be this stupid. He gestures around the room. “Take a guess, genius. Your girlfriend just lost her parents. Who do you think is going to take care of this mess? Her? Hattie, who just lost basically her second set of parents?”

Liam shakes the bag, and it opens with a snap. “Jeez, I got it. A simple ‘clean up the trash’ would have worked.”

“I didn’t raise you to be helpless, kid. I shouldn’t have to lead you around here by your nose to show you what should be obvious,” Griffin snaps.

I put my hands on Liam’s shoulders and give him a little push toward the kitchen. “Go start in there and wipe down the counters when you’re done.”

Once he’s gone, I turn to my best friend. “You’re pretty hard on the kid.”

He squeezes my shoulder. “See, that’s the problem, he’s not a kid. He graduated last year, and all he’s done is hang around here and spin his wheels. He only works part-time at the garage. He won’t even entertain going to the community college in Pine Bluff. I thought he was going to get a football scholarship, but he wasn’t talented enough to compensate for his piss-poor grades. He barely graduated.”

“Relax, Griff. It’s a high school relationship. Remember those? They’re intense, but they burn themselves out.”

“Yeah, mine ended with a divorce and me being a single father. I remember it with painful clarity,” he reminds me.

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