Page 39 of What We May Be

“Uh-oh,” Maggie said. “I don’t like that look.”

“What look?”

“The wistful one that just floated across your face,” Rachel answered.

She feigned ignorance, but neither of them was buying it. “Don’t, Charlie,” Maggie said. “He’s not back for good. This will not end well if you go there.”

“Think about Trevor,” Rachel said, adding her unfinished plate to the others. “You two are supposed to be moving on. To DC and all that might offer.”

“I heard Trevor laid Sean out night before last,” Maggie said. “Serves him right for leaving you two without so much as a goodbye.”

Charlie drained her tea. “At least I got one earlier this month.”

Rachel gasped, her arms flailing and sending her barely balanced plate flying, splattering slaw everywhere. “What?”

Maggie grabbed a stack of napkins and held them out to Rachel. “What the fuck happened earlier—” She cut herself off with a sharp inhale. “The funeral?”

Charlie nodded. “He was there. And at the beach house after.”

“Trevor too?” Rachel asked.

Charlie nodded again.

Maggie snagged the last napkin on the table, balled it up, and hurled it at her. “Way to bury the lede, Henby.”

“There’s a lot going on if you hadn’t noticed.” Maggie winced, and Charlie immediately regretted her more-biting-than-intended tone. She reached across the table and grasped her friend’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”

Maggie smiled and rubbed a comforting hand over hers. “You’re right. There’s a lot, babe. You all were together again?”

Charlie withdrew her hand and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair, face to the ceiling. “Yes, and for the first time in ten years, things felt right. But fuck, things were already so complicated. Now they’re a million times worse.”

“What’s so complicated?” Maggie asked, logical and brutally honest to a fault. “Sean’s left. Twice. Probability is high for a third time. Versus Trevor, who let’s all be honest, still loves you, and you still love him, right?”

“I’ve always loved Trevor, but romantically, it didn’t work last time. Not without Sean. I couldn’t be with Trevor that way and not feel like a piece was missing. And with anyone else, it feels like two pieces are missing.”

“You sure there’s not enough there? With Trevor?” Rachel asked, her gaze downcast as she tossed her plate and napkins into the trash. “There’s a lot to love there.”

Charlie snagged her trailing hand before she sank all the way back in her chair. “I’m sorry. Is this awkward?” Caught up in her own conflict, she’d forgotten that Trevor and Rachel had dated in high school. Charlie suspected Rachel still held a torch for Trevor, but it had never stopped Rachel from telling her to go for it with Trevor in college and being there for them both after Sean had left.

Rachel squeezed her fingers. “That was a lifetime ago. You two were always meant to be.”

“Exactly, so back to what I was saying,” Maggie pressed. “What’s more important? A friendship—possibly more—with the man who’s been by your side most of your life or taking a flyer on a guy who’s left twice already?” She popped another hush puppy into her mouth and swiped her hands together in a ‘that’s that’ gesture. “Seems like easy math to me, Miss Math Team.”

Easy math. Not even. There were equations from the past that didn’t add up. New variables in the present. And a future unknown to solve for. This wasn’t easy math. It was the hardest fucking problem of her life.

And that wasn’t even counting the dead bodies.

* * *

Charlie clocked Sean from fifteen feet away, strutting across the bullpen floor toward her office. He wore a cocky grin and thumped a rolled yellow paperback against his palm. Her insides were no less settled after the meal with Maggie and Rachel, but when faced with a mound of paperwork and a stack of press calls to return, she welcomed the interruption. She held a finger to her lips as Sean strode into her office and cut her gaze to where Trevor still slept on the couch. Sean’s face softened, fondness and longing written all over his handsome features, and Charlie reached for her phone. She wanted to snap a picture so Trevor could see that look for himself, so he could better understand why Sean hadn’t been able to bring himself to say goodbye to him either time he’d left before. It would have ripped them both to shreds.

She wasn’t fast enough. Sean wiped the expression away before she got the camera app open. He dropped into one of her visitor chairs and threw his feet up on her desk. She lifted her heels to the opposite desk corner, mirroring his relaxed posture. “Make yourself at home.” She spoke softly so as not to wake Trevor, but the way he slept, hard and deep, it would take more than just her and Sean talking to rouse him.

Smirking, Sean nodded toward the perilously leaning stack of pink message slips. “How’s that backlog of press calls going?”

“I got halfway through before Rachel brought in another stack. Please tell me this isn’t my future if I—” She cut herself off before she spoke out of turn and before she spoke too loudly. “If things go well tomorrow.”

“Higher-ups usually handle the press, though I might have caused a few stacks like that.”

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