Page 117 of When Hearts Awaken

Flipping back to my call with London, I instruct, “Yes. The interest rate is fine—a small price to pay to keep the company safe.”

My cell phone buzzes again and this time I ignore it.

Present Day

“I completely forgot about her. Didn’t call her back or text her,” Charles rasps as he stares at the floor in front of him, his eyes haunted.

A weight sinks on my chest as I put the rest of the story together. Obviously, something must’ve happened to his sister that day.

“That night, I got a call from the hospital. They found her trapped inside her car in the Hudson River. She was lucky because a Good Samaritan saw her car plummeting into the water and dove in and saved her. But she was nonresponsive—there was too much trauma—ribs, legs broken, internal bleeding, fluid in her lungs. It was a miracle she was still alive.” His eyes glisten with tears.

“Shit,” I murmur and wrap my arms around him. I would’ve never known he was carrying so much inside him if he hadn’t told me.

He is wearing a mask—a damn good one forged by years of pain and guilt.

“I’m the oldest in the family. Growing up, it has always been us three. My parents,” he scoffs, “are alive and well, but they never cared about us. I often think they had kids because that’s what everyone else did. They didn’t want us. And so, it had always been us against the world. Uncle Ian would do his best to be there for the big events in life—graduation, award ceremonies, playoff games—but we were used to depending on each other.”

A tear streaks down his cheek and my heart breaks into tiny pieces. “I was supposed to take care of them. Put them first. Love them so they wouldn’t even notice our parents were MIA. But I failed. Big time. And now she’s in a coma, half alive, and Liam won’t talk to me.”

I wipe the moisture from his face and turn his head toward me.

His startling, expressive eyes radiate with so much pain, guilt, and so much love for his siblings. I wonder how everyone missed this side of him before.

How were we all so blind?

But you see him now, Taylor. Just like he sees you.

“You listen to me, Charles Vaughn. I don’t know your sister, but I’m damn sure she wouldn’t want you beating yourself up because of her. You didn’t put her in a coma. You didn’t cause her injuries. It was a tragic accident.”

Charles lets out a derisive chuckle and shakes his head. “I tried telling myself that for years, Tay.Years.I don’t believe it, nor does Liam. And he’s right to be pissed at me. I convinced myself saving the company was more important than an SOS from my sister.”

He leans his head on my shoulder, his hands gripping my waist, his hold borderline painful. “Liam called me, you know. He said he’d tell the pilot to turn around if I couldn’t get to her, but I told him I’d take care of it. And I didn’t. She told me she was scared. I thought she was being dramatic. I ignored all the warning signs. I’m not a good man, Tay.”

He heaved out a heavy breath. “Over the years, I’ve wondered what happened to her that day and what she was scared about. The police said there was no foul play and the rain probably factored into her accident. I looked over the records and everyone told me it was not my fault. But I couldn’t forgive myself.”

Charles lifts his head up and stares at me, his gaze bleak. “You were right about me before. I survived on fake charm and charisma. I ignored my family in their time of need for shit that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. I don’t deserve forgiveness or you.”

I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. Yes, maybe you should’ve listened to her. Maybe you could’ve done more, but you had an emergency you were dealing with already. You didn’t put her behind the wheel or engineered that accident. If you’d known what was going to happen, you would’ve dropped everything for your sister. You can’t beat yourself up like this.”

He pushes out a ragged exhale as his gaze roves over me like I’m the last lifeline he’s holding onto.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I murmur, “Didn’t you tell me my darkest night wasn’t my fault? When I was beating myself up for the thousandth time for taking a drink from a stranger, didn’t you tell me not to think that way? If I made a different choice that night, a simple choice in retrospect, everything would’ve been different.”

I wet my lips as a burn appears behind my eyes, my voice thick. “You told me it wasn’t my fault, right? You said I was still breathtakingly beautiful, that I wasn’t messed up or fucked up. So you listen to me, Charles. You’re an annoying fucker sometimes, but none of this is your fault. You’re a damn good man, the only man other than my brothers I trust. Nothing is going to change the way I look at you, you hear me? It’s just a fucking pile of shit that is life. What happened to Firefly is not your fault, just like what happened to me is not my fault, okay?”

His jaw works, a muscle pulsing on his forehead. His eyes darken—turbulent like the skies outside.

“Fuck, I love you, minx,” he rasps, and my heart flips and skips several beats.

Then he seals his lips with mine.

I love you too, Charles.

Chapter 48

I huff out abreath as I walk down the steps of ABTC juggling a bunch of green balloons and a diaper tower wrapped in cellophane. I love the city in May—spring is in full swing and the temperatures are balmy and comfortable.

Today, life feels especially hopeful, even though I had a doozy of a practice just now. Ainsley seemed at odds with Maddy, and Carla was bitchy the entire time, which wasn’t a surprise. On a brighter note, Bethany visited the premises today and her ankle was doing much better, but she still has a few more months of rest before she can start practicing again.

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