Page 50 of Shadowing Charlotte
Alexander loved me…
The realization only made me feel guiltier about the discourse I'd caused. I hadn't meant to say anything. I'd been so wrapped up in their conversation that the words spilled from my lips without thought.
I clasped my hands together, nervously picking at the hem of my dress. The atmosphere on the way home was a stark contrast to our interaction on the way to the hospital, bleak and solemn.
Staring at the scenery, I ground my teeth together to keep my bottom lip from trembling. I didn't want to cry, no matter how shitty I felt. "Lex… I'm really sorry," I rasped, looking over at him. My fingers shook as I tugged a string of thread from the fabric of my dress, trying to do anything to occupy my hands.
"I know, princess," he murmured, his eyes still staring straight ahead. Alexander was so angry he couldn't even look at me. That's when the tears finally spilled from the corners of my eyes. I turned away, staring out the window at the trees and buildings we rolled past. When the tears dripped down my chin and hit my chest, I finally wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
Once I started, though, I couldn't stop. Lex loved me, and I'd ruined our visit with his mother like an asshole. The harder I tried to hold it in, the more I cried. By the timewe reached the stoplight that led into my neighborhood, I was silently sobbing, the tears streaming down my cheeks.
The moment Alexander pulled into the driveway, I flung the door open and fled the car, the silence unbearable. "Charlotte?" His voice followed me as I threw open the front door and curled up on the couch. "Charlie?"
I buried my face against one of the pillows, unable to look at him. Guilt gnawed at my insides like a living thing, eating away at me, and the tears wouldn't stop. "Charlie… Babe… Are youcrying?" he asked as he sank down on the couch beside me, the question a mix of irritation and curiosity, implying I had no right to be upset. Maybe I didn't. But I couldn't change the way I felt.
"I said I'm sorry!" I sobbed, clutching the pillow.
"I know," he replied solemnly. "Look, I know it's not your fault, not entirely."
"It just came out!"
"I know, " he repeated. "It was an accident."
"So, why are you mad at me?" I sniffled. Lex chuckled and I felt him settle on the couch beside me.
"Charlie, I'm not mad at you, baby. I'm just mad at the situation," he explained, threading his fingers into my hair. I didn't know what to say, sniffling as I rolled over and buried my face in the soft material of his shirt.
"Did you mean it?" I asked in a small whimper. If I spoke any louder, I was sure I would start crying again.
"Mean what?" he asked.
"When you said you loved me?" I replied, my voice cracking as I finally dared to look up at him.
Chapter forty-four
Alexander
Her question wrenched the air from my lungs and my mouth opened as I stared down at her. Charlie's entire face was red from crying, the sight rendering me speechless, making my heart crack in my chest. Had I told her that I loved her? I couldn't even remember. I'd been so upset over what had happened at the hospital that I hadn't been thinking clearly until we'd reached the driveway and I'd finally realized Charlie was upset.
"Oh, sweetheart… How could I not?" I sighed, lifting her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes. "You've had me wrapped around your finger from the moment I first set eyes on you." Her lips wobbled, the corners lifting into a smile as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "For so long, I felt like I was lost in my own life, a ship without anchor, drifting on endless seas…"
"So, I'm your anchor? A ball and chain?" she asked, her voice still thick and raspy from crying.
"No, Charlotte. You're my lighthouse, guiding me safely back to shore," I whispered, letting the words sink in before I closed the distance between our mouths and kissed her. "I don't just love you, Charlotte. I'm in love with you. Head over fucking heels," I confessed against her lips, relishing her joyful little sigh that followed my declaration.
Words didn't even do justice to the way I felt about Charlotte. She was an unpredictable sickness that had crept beneath my skin, infecting my blood and worming deeper still, into the very marrow of my bones. A sickness I never wanted to be cured of.
Her tears smeared between our cheeks as our kiss deepened, my tongue dancing across her bottom lip in slow strokes. "I love you, too," she whispered against my mouth, abroken sniffle sucked in as she tried to banish her tears. "Does this mean you're going to marry me?" Charlie asked with a playful pout, the sadness in her eyes slowly dissipating. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Someday, princess," I answered, knowing in the depths of my soul that the answer was unequivocally yes. Charlotte and I belonged together, both of us fucked up in different ways, two sides of the same tarnished coin. Finally, she cracked a smile, her fingers toying with the neckline of my shirt.
"I really am sorry, you know,"
"I know, baby. It's alright." I couldn't stay mad at her. Her almost-revelation had been a slip of the tongue. One thing I was certain of was that Charlotte never did anything with the intention of hurting someone. She may have had fucked up tendencies and made stupid decisions, but she had the purest heart of anyone I'd ever met. Maybe that's why she'd never been afraid of me. Maybe we were simply meant to be.
We cuddled on the couch, my hands trailing over the soft skin of her back, until she told me she was hungry. Together, we made dinner and shared a few cups of wine. By the time we climbed into the shower together, the discord of the afternoon was long forgotten.
When we crawled, naked, into her bed, I didn't fuck Charlotte, I made love to her, every touch languid and full of intent. Our bodies were still sweaty and entwined when we fell asleep.
