Page 184 of The Spider & the Storm

“Yeah, he was,” I agreed as a barrage of drunken nights came back to me. The fights. The hangovers. The countless fuckups.

“But, honestly, as insane as it sounds, he was the best version of himself when he was at Wayward. Sober, attentive, honest, healthy …”

It was all true. I had seen it myself, and I nodded along with every word.

“I had never stopped loving him,” she admitted, addressing me fully. “And I tried moving on. I really did. I had a couple of boyfriends I kept around for a year or two, but … it wasn’t the same.”

My heart ached, and my shoulders dropped as I nodded. “He never stopped loving you either, Mel.”

“I know.” A rueful expression fell upon her face as she fiddled with the rings on her finger. “That first time I visited him, he asked me if I still had my engagement ring.” She laughed incredulously, like she could hardly believe it all herself. “I told him I did, and he said, 'Then, what the fuck are we doing, Mel? I love you; you love me. Let's just cut the shit and get fucking married.’”

I fell back against my chair, my chest heaving. “Wait. You were engaged before Ileft?”

Melanie nodded, the regret heavy in her gaze. “I'm sorry, Charlie. I asked him why he didn’t tell you that day, when you told him you were leaving, but he just … he didn't want to stop you. He didn't want to give you any other reason to change your mind. If you had stayed, we would've told you, of course. But then you left, and we just …” She pulled in a deep breath and met my eyes. “I want to tell you that we were miserable. I want to tell you that we only ever spent what time we had missing you and—”

I surprised her with my abrupt laugh. “Why?!”

“Because I don't want to make it sound like wenevermissed you!” She was laughing with me despite the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. “We did, Charlie. God, we did, so much. We talked about you all the time. We wondered where you were and what you were doing … but we were sohappy. Those years …” She pulled in a deep breath and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “They were short, and there weren't enough—oh my God, it wasn’tenough—and they weresofucking hard, but they wereours. We—”

Just then, the sound of footsteps descended upon us from the stairs. Melanie turned her head suddenly, a look of surprise on her face, as if she’d forgotten momentarily where she was. She stood from the table, wiping her hands over her face and smoothing her shirt down. I looked at Stormy, who glanced curiously at me, and I wondered what other surprises were in store.

“Mommy?” a little voice asked, accompanied by the sound of small, pounding feet against the hardwood floor. “I want snack.”

Melanie’s gaze met mine for a brief moment as she asked, “Um, sure, yeah. What—”

“Oh! I didn’t realize you had company.”

The startled sound of an older woman’s voice drew my attention, and I turned to look into the weathered eyes of Melanie’s mother. I hadn’t seen her in years, but I’d recognize her anywhere. Her hand was flattened to her chest as her eyes squinted, studying me as she approached with uncertainty.

“Mom, you remember Charlie, right? Luke’s younger brother?”

And then her mouth fell open as recognition settled upon her. “Wait, Charlie? Is that really you?”

I nodded, swallowing against the need to break down yet again. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Oh my word.” That hand remained against her chest as she shook her head, taking a few steps closer. “Stand up so I can take a good look at you.”

I did as she’d asked. She was standing a foot from me, her eyes still squinting as she studied my frame. It occurred to me then that her mother’s eyesight had begun to fail her in her older age.

“You certainly grew up, didn’t you?” She laughed, smiling with affection.

“People do that,” I said, chuckling.

“And who’s this?” She peered around me to eye Stormy with curiosity.

“This is my girlfriend,” I said, then made the introductions just as not one, but two little boys entered the dining room.

It struck my heart with joy and a desperate, horrible ache to see how much they both looked like Luke … andme.

They looked likeus. Like they’d been plucked out of a picture from the past and were dropped in my present to stare at me with wide, uncertain eyes.

The smaller of the two came to stand beside Melanie and wrapped his little hands in her sweatshirt. “Mommy,” he said in a quiet voice. “Who dat?”

Melanie looked down at him with an affection I remembered only from my own mother as she smoothed his floppy, dark hair away from his forehead, leaving her hand there against his crown. “This right here is your uncle Charlie,” she said in a soothing tone, looking back at me, her eyes glistening with tears and a happiness I hadn’t expected.

Uncle Charlie. Uncle. Charlie.

The moment seemed too surreal to be happening. But it was, in fact, happening. I was an uncle, a title I never in a million years thought I’d hold, but there it was.

---