Page 113 of Mr. Charming

“Night.” But neither of us hangs up.

We both laugh.

“Hey, what is your favorite part of my body? I’ll try to showcase it tomorrow for you,” she says.

“That’ll be hard.”

“Why?”

“It’s your heart, Tedi. My favorite part of your body is your heart.”

She sighs, and her head falls to her pillow. “Good night, Tweetie. I have to go before I send an Uber for you. See you tomorrow.”

I’m still laughing as she cuts off the video.

I lie in bed and think about what my sister said about leaving the past where it is. She’s right, and an idea of a way we might finally be able to move on pops in my head. I hope it works.

Fifty-Two

Tedi’s Journal Entry

Present Day

Chicago

* * *

To my older self,

* * *

Well, we’re about to throw in the towel. He just gave us one helluva orgasm via phone sex. And he’s saying so many sweet things. I’m starting to feel like I’m just wasting time that we could have together. Pretty soon, you’re going to be reading that it’s over, we lost the battle. Then again, we wouldn’t lose because we’d have him, and that was the goal in the first place. He’s really matured these last few years. I’m going to chance our heart this one last time. I hope you’re not shaking your head reading this because I made a foolish decision. I hope you want to beat my head in because I did waste all this time without him. And I really hope that he’s across from you right now as you read this.

Fifty-Three

Tweetie’s Journal Entry

Present Day

Chicago

* * *

To my teenage self,

* * *

I know our journals are sacred. That we said we’d never share them with anyone. But she has to know. She has to read our thoughts for herself. It’s the only way to heal us. To stitch up the wound from the past and move forward to a new future. Sorry, buddy, but I promise you, we can trust her.

Fifty-Four

Tedi

As we often do now, Tweetie and I make up some excuse to sneak off before boarding the plane. One of us grabs a snack, and the other one goes to the bathroom, or some version of that. No matter what, we’re usually the last ones to get on the plane. Tweetie usually leads us down the jetway with his hand on my back. The best is when he places his hand low and his fingers cover my ass.

After we had phone sex, the line I’m trying to draw in the sand is getting washed away. Not that I’m crazy for sex, but more because I want to be with him. I crave being able to go up to him whenever I want and touch him, kiss him. Sex is just a really big added bonus.

I continue down the plane aisle as he slides into his normal seat with Conor, Henry, and Rowan. I’m just getting situated when Conor comes over and hands me a box. “Eloise wanted me to give you this. She said it was meant for you.”

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