Page 23 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
But lately, he’d been forgetting to save me a seat. And ordering me diet sodas even after I reminded him I didn’t like the taste. Sometimes it seemed he didn’t even see me arrive anymore, and I had to break my way into his conversations to receive a simple head nod.
My needle-thin fracture of doubt spread outward—the one that started the night I’d rescued Molly. Greg always wanted to be the smartest, most self-assured person in the room, but I’d needed him to step back and trust me to take care of the situation.
Another branch had cracked outward at his insistence I give up Hansel.
Then another when I’d agreed to move to Juneau.
And now, he wasn’t coming to this interview.
None of my friends liked him. They’d stopped talking trash about him after I’d asked them not to. I loved him so much, but did he love me the same way?
How could so many people I love not love him?
I dropped my face into my hands, overwhelmed with every fissure of doubt that spread deeper and faster than I could patch with excuses. Clouds covered the sun, and the room dimmed, matching my depressed mood perfectly.
What if this feeling was more than the cracks? More than the wrong drink and arrogance and the missed appointment today? What if it was the question ringing so loud in my brain, it was hard to hear any other thought?
Am I happy?
I was getting married in two weeks. I should at least know the answer to that.
Rosie’s arms went around me, and then Bennett’s went around both of us and I was in the middle of a Forrester sandwich as tears streamed down my face.
“We love you,” Rosie said fervently.
“So much,” Bennett agreed, his beard bristling my forehead as he spoke.
“I wish you were my family,” I said wistfully enough that it might have embarrassed me, if the crying wasn’t embarrassing enough already.
“Done,” Bennett said. “You’re officially adopted.”
“A Forrester forever,” Rosie agreed.
I laughed, but it was weak. They were lovely and wonderful, and I wished with my whole heart it was true. But I wasn’t a part of their family, and I never would be. I sighed, and they released me.
Rosie’s face was doing the thing where a million thoughts flitted across her expression. The human version of a computer running a stream of numbers, calculating something down thescreen. She put her palms on my cheeks and held me still as she studied me. “With a little make-up, no one will know you’ve been crying.”
“What?”
Rosie approached Bennett and studied him closely instead of answering me.
He ran a self-conscious hand across his overgrown beard. “I know it’s gotten out of control?—”
“It’s absolutely perfect,” she said, clapping her hands. She raced to the coat rack and grabbed a hat, bringing it back for him. “With this on, and some bad lighting, no one will even know.”
She looked back and forth between us, the worry lines in her forehead smoothing out as I felt my own growing. I knew a Rosie scheme from a mile away.
“They won’t know what?” Bennett asked, sounding as cautious as I felt.
Rosie paused, her hand on the drapes as she experimented with closing them, then opening them all the way. “That you’re not Greg, of course.”
9
BENNETT
In a flurry of activity, Rosie had us situated in front of an open window, bright sunlight streaming in behind us so our faces looked shadowed for the camera. We were logged in and waiting for the host to join.
Rosie stood back to take us in, her brows drawn together in deep thought. “You’re bigger than Greg. I guess there’s nothing we can do about that at this point. Or no, Charlie, you can sit on a pillow so he’s not much taller than you.”
