Page 17 of The Valentine Inn

“That right there is why I didn’t try harder to tell you.”

He tilted his head, confused.

“Responsibility implies he is a mistake, just like you thought I was.”

“What do you want me to say?” he spat.

“I want you to say, ‘I would have loved him and wanted to be a part of his life,’” my voice cracked. “But I think we both know that’s not what you would have said,” I whispered.

“We will never know, now will we?” His voice was as sharp as a blade.

I let out a heartbroken breath while I stood. “I think we do. Thank you for helping me to know I made the right choice. Now you can forget about him, like you forgot about me.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, but he said nothing, so I turned to leave.

“I never forgot about you, Charlotte. Hell, I’ve tried.”

I stopped and gripped the chair, refusing to face him. Tears streamed down my face. “Then why did you come here?”

“Because . . . I wanted to remember what it felt like to be human.”

“Do you feel human now?”

“Always, when I’m with you,” he admitted, almost as if being human made him weak.

“Great. Good night.”

“I wouldn’t be any good for him or you. You know that, right?” he blurted.

I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I turned and faced him. “How would you know? You didn’t even try.”

“For good reason, Charlotte.”

“Oh, I know. I was just your cute, perky assistant, only good for a weekend fling.”

He jumped up. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I know I’m right. The way you looked at me, or wouldn’t look at me, when we got back to LA said it all. I was a big fat regret and you used me. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care that you thought it was a mistake, because I got the best thing in my life out of it,” I cried. “And we don’t need you!” I furiously wiped the tears off my cheek.

He hung his head. “You’re right, you don’t need me.”

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” That was a lie. I was anything but glad. All these years, and especially today, I had wanted my Drake to show up. But I’m not sure he ever existed. Maybe I’d made him up to justify falling in love with him. Staying in love with him, if I was being honest with myself. I felt so stupid. It’s not like I had pined for him this entire time, but there was something between us I couldn’t explain. Something strong that was hard to let go of.

I turned and marched out.

“Charlotte, please wait.”

I paused at the entryway. “What?”

“Why did you name him Jameson?”

My shoulders rose and fell in disappointment. “That’s all you want to know about him?”

“No, but I don’t have the right to ask for anything more.”

That was one thing we could agree on.

“Please, it’s all I ask of you.”

I leaned my head against the wall. The memory of the night his name came to me was as vivid as it was when it happened. “Sometimes I felt so alone, wondering if I could really bring a baby into the world by myself. I would lie in bed at night and stare at the empty pillow next to me, while feeling him kick inside of me. I so badly wanted you to be there to feel him,” I admitted. “So, I would pretend you were. I would ask you things like, ‘What should we name him?’ And I swore I heard you, clear as day, say, ‘What do you think of Jameson?’ So, I responded, ‘I love that idea.’ Then I could see you rest your hand on my abdomen and smile, while giving me a look that said you’d never been happier. But then I came to my senses and reminded myself I was only a mistake to you.” The tears came faster than I could wipe them.

“Charlotte, I never meant for you to take it that way.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? It all comes to the same end.”

“I suppose it does. But I said those things to protect you.”

I whipped my head toward him. He was standing closer than I’d realized. Close enough I could see a misty sheen in his eyes.

“I didn’t want your protection,” my voice hitched.

“What did you want?” Some of his rare emotion bled through.

“I wanted just the opposite. I wanted you to let go and expose all of yourself to me. I wanted you to be human. My human,” I whispered. It was the closest thing to saying I wanted him to love me like I loved him.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. “You would have come to regret that. And that’s the last thing I wanted.”

“I don’t believe that. And deep down, I don’t think you do either. But keep running away from yourself. It’s what you do best.”

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