Page 163 of The Rom-Commers

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Logan ignored me. “It’s got some information on it I think you should have. I’ve been hesitating, with your dad being sick. I know you’re going through a lot. But I think you’d rather know than not know.”

“I’d rather know than not know what?”

“It’s a video for you.Toyou. From Charlie.”

“For me?”

“It’s a video he sent me to send to you—but not yet. Only later.”

“Only later when?”

“Later…” Logan said—and then finished: “After he’s dead.”

Dead?“Logan!” I said, likeWhat the hell?“What are you talking about?”

“Just watch it,” Logan said. “Go up to your room right now and watch it. And when you’re done, I suspect you’ll have a change of heart. I suspect you’ll want to see Charlie, after all. If I’m right, come down to the ballroom. I’ll save you a seat.”

WHAT ELSE COULDI do? I went up to watch it.

I sat at my hotel room desk, opened my laptop, double-clicked the file. And there, on my screen, appeared a video of Charlie. The second I saw it, I knew from his beat-up face exactly when he’d filmed it: it was the night he’d had that bar brawl and come home completely pummeled. The same day he’d gotten that mysterious phone call he’d never explained. He was seated, hunched, on the side of his bed, filming into his phone, rumpled as ever, and exactly as many sheets to the wind as I remembered.

“Emma,” Charlie said into the phone. “If you’re seeing this right now—if Logan sent it to you to watch—then I’m…” Charlie shook his head, like he couldn’t believe the words. “It sounds like the worst kind of bad movie dialogue… but if you’re watching this, then I’m already dead.”

He nodded, like he was letting the idea sink in. “I don’t know why it’s so weird to say that. Everybody winds up dead eventually. What’s actually weird is the way we all think we’re gonna last forever.” Charlie looked up at the ceiling like he was blinking back tears. “I would have liked some more time, though. To be honest. I barely found you. Ijustfound you. Right?” Charlie closed his eyes and made a fist in his hair before going on. “So… it’s late. And you just cleaned up my face and tried to tuck me into bed. But I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep until I say this.” Charlie took a deep breath. “At my well checkup this week… I got a positive screening for metastasized lung cancer.”

Charlie grabbed a fistful of hair and squeezed his eyes closed for a second.

“There are more tests to do and questions to answer,” he went on. “But I’ve been down this road before. And no matter how I turn it around in my mind, the only good place for you… isas far as possiblefrom me.”

He looked away, sucked in a deep breath, held it, then pushed it back out—and as he did, he started coughing.

Hold on—was that why he’d been coughing so much? Not allergies—butlung cancer?

“You’re not going to believe this,” Charlie went on, “but I knew on that first day that I was going to fall for you. You hadn’t been yelling at Logan in my front yard for even sixty seconds before I knew. I felt it. I called it! It was so predictable.”

He took a minute to rub his eyes. Then he went on, “I like you like crazy, Emma. I didn’t even know it was possible to like another person this much.” He shook his head. “And up until today, I wanted nothing more than to make you like me, too.” He frowned, like he was thinking. “Maybe this is my punishment. Maybe you were right about self-fulfilling prophecies. All I know is, I really don’t want to die. And the reason I don’t want to die is because I just want more time with you.”

Charlie paused to cough again.

Then he went on. “That’s the only thing I want. That’s the only thing I canthink aboutwanting. But guess what? I’m going to rise above that. I’m not going to ruin your life. For once, I’m going to put someone else first.” He grabbed another fistful of hair. “I can’t believe your life. You’ve spent ten years taking care of your dad—and you gave up everything to do it. All this time, you’ve kept a lid on that Spindletop of talent you’ve got. It’s so wrong that it happened.”

Charlie slid down to sit beside the bed.

“I lied to you today,” he went on. “And I’m going to keep lying to you. I’ll never tell you about any of this. I’m going to push you away for your own good while I’m still strong enough to do it. And you know why—and you know I’m right. If I don’t, you’ll take care of me just like you did with your dad—and I refuse to be another thing that stops you. You need somebody in your life who lifts you up—not drags you down.Trust me on this. I’ve been through it all before. It’s shitty, I know. But every option I have is shitty. At least this one sets you free.”

Charlie stopped talking, and put his head in his hand, but the camera kept filming.

When he looked up again, he peered straight into the lens.

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” he said then. “I would write a hundred happy endings for us if I could.”

Thirty-One

I SHOT DOWNto the ballroom so fast after that, I don’t completely remember how I got there. I mostly remember crying. Crying in the elevator—riding eight floors down with two kids who faced backward and stared at me the whole time. Crying while giving my name at the sign-in table. Crying as I slipped through the closed door at the back of the room.

My thoughts somersaulted unintelligibly around in my head—mainly denial-themed, if I recall. Charlie was sick? But he didn’t look sick. I’d seen plenty of sick people. He looked great! He looked healthy! This was unacceptable! He’d just had his five-year-iversary! Hadn’t he been through enough? This couldn’t be right! He wasCharlie!

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