Say My Name [ Teacher-Student Romance -- Robert Downey Jr ]

Epilogue - Part 1 - Promises

Charlotte, like her father, is in therapy for the first time in her life and accepting it. Working on it. Paid for, dropped off and picked up by Carson.

She can't express her gratitude without getting easily teary eyed, but it's more than she could ever hope to repay.

Another new element in Charlottes life is that she moved out of Izzie's house and in with Jay, followed by Casey. It's nice. It's small, too, but that's a part of the appeal. It feels like something tender, soft, like peace and home and safety all in one. Just last week--before the call--Carson and her husband who is Jays dad, brandishing the same humorous confidence of his son, came for dinner, along with CJ's familiar faced father Paul. The running banter of the night being that, albeit Paul being older than Jay's father, he wasn't the one with a head full of grey hair. To then which the other older man would correct Paul to say they're his racing stripes, hardly anything Paul could pull off.

It felt more like family than Charlottes felt in a long time. ((She wishes Molly could have known that feeling, too.))

She pays rent, helps with groceries, took all her friends and Carson out for dinner as an appreciation to them, all in due to her two month new job as a barista at a quaint cafe not ten minutes from their shared home.

Not to say it's been easy, it's been the furtherest thing from it. She can't recall the first two months post Molly and Robert. She drank, a lot. Too much, too often. Unwilling to leave her room in case the call came. The call that, that Robert, that he....

She had gotten that call, last night in fact. Dogs pulling at their respective red and blue leashes as she was about to take them out for a summer night stroll accompanied by George dressed in shorts and flip flops.

They didn't end up going. Instead Charlotte locked herself in the laundry room, wrapped up in a thin threaded dress shirt far too big for her, but soft, warm and clean for welcoming, just like Robert's embrace once was.

She still has her down days frequently, but she's....

She's keeping her promise. For Molly, her father and Carson, her friends, for Robert, and for herself.

It took eight months to realize just how close she had been to tipping, to spilling and splitting her blood to soak into the hands of others. To pass on the guilt Charlotte has harvested with Molly's passing and brandishing that same pain onto the ones she loves.

Eight months to realize it does get better, as much as it hurts and life can still fucking suck, it wouldn't have been worth it. Not then, not now, not ever.

She had hoped for months for the chance to thank Robert in person, and alas, here she is. Not quite as she had so feverishly wished for, but she's done claiming something to be nothing. Life's too short for that.

Though that doesn't stop her from feeling guilty--feeling 'human' as her counsellor would amend.

Because despite her pursuing persistence, she again failed, for not yet the first time a loved one could've wanted her in their time of need.

She can't help those dangerous thoughts, the entrapping darkness that her past brings out of her. Can't deny what happened, how even now there's nothing she can do but wait and try not to think about how she failed him.

But she refuses to let it control her. Not anymore.

Once upon a time she would've thought that she had no chance of repentance, no chance or right to make good again; she now sees the light. Had found it while digging for answers of where to find Robert, buried under contempt, unresolved feelings and several layers of grieved goodbyes, she had found that shard of peace.