'Charlie Barber is so fucking handsome.'
You kept thinking that to yourself as you watched him during rehearsal. He was directing the cast, pointing to various spots on the stage, wildly gesturing with his hands. He was so passionate, so knowledgeable. He knew exactly what he wanted and how to articulate it.
It made you throb, squirming in your seat as you observed. You were sitting in the front row, leg crossed over the other and a notebook in your lap. Now and then, Charlie would call out to you, telling you what notes he needed you to jot down for him.
You were thankful that you weren't the one taking acting directions from him because you would've been a mess, flustered and fidgety as he told you what to do. It was bad enough just being told what to write down for him.
"If I have my back turned for this line, how will the audience know who I'm talking to?" One of the actresses asked Charlie. "Am I overthinking it?"
You watched the way Charlie put a hand to his mouth, thinking, gears turning in his head almost visibly. A small detail he hadn't taken into consideration. "I don't think it should matter."
The actress frowned, "I don't know..." She trailed off, thinking about it. She didn't want to argue with him but it didn't feel right to her.
Charle's frown deepened. His hands went to his hips, thinking it through. His attention unexpectedly turned towards you. "What do you think?"
Your eyes widened. Everyone's attention turned on you and it made you shift uncomfortably, recrossing your legs over the other. You hadn't been expecting him to ask for your input.
You'd been whispering to him all morning, telling him little details and mistakes you noticed. He seemed to like your feedback but you didn't think he'd ask for it in front of everyone.
Charlie's eyes stayed on yours and he offered you a gentle, soothing smile. He could see your nerves. It was cute.
"I-I um..." You tried to think, "I don't see why it would be an issue for her to turn away from the audience after she says the line...It doesn't really take away from the delivery of it." You answered, sharing your honest opinion.
Charlie kept his stare on you as he ran it through in his mind. "Okay. Let's try that." He decided, gracefully hopping off of the side of the stage, hands clasped together as he made his way to the seats. "From the top, guys."
He took a seat beside you, his large frame brushing against yours without even meaning to.
You glanced up at him and were met with a discreet wink as if he were telling you 'good job'. It made butterflies swarm in your stomach, so eager to get praise from him.
You watched carefully as the actress took your directions, turning her back after saying the line instead of before like she previously had.
Charlie made a hum of approval, liking the way it flowed. He took the notebook from your lap and the purple pen from your hand. His mouth went over the cap, pulling it off and keeping it balanced between his lips. He wrote on your paper, assumingly jotting down a note to do it that way in the future.
You frowned in confusion when you then watched how he tore off the area of the paper that he'd just written on. He folded it in half, placing it in your lap along with the notebook and pen before standing up from his seat.
"Okay, that looked good." Charlie announced to them, "Nice work." He moved over to the stage.
He kept talking, giving more directions but you were distracted now. You discreetly unfolded the piece of torn paper:
'Prop closet. During break'
Was all that it said, scribbled quickly in his rushed writing.
You glanced up at him, noticing the way he was biting the inside of his cheek to stop from grinning as he thought about what he had just told you.
You only had fifteen minutes.
You waited a few moments after Charlie went in the direction of the closet, knowing better at this point than to make anything obvious between the two of you.
The door was shut but you knew you didn't need to knock, instead, you slowly opened it, peering inside. It was slightly dark, only one of the dim light bulbs lit in the back, hanging from the ceiling.
The second you were inside of the doorway, you were being pressed against the closest wall.
Charlie's large frame loomed over you as he quietly shut and locked the door behind you, his body keeping your back against the wall beside it.
"Hi, sweetheart." He grinned, talking in a low quiet voice.
You let out a breathless giggle, feeling almost lightheaded from his attention and proximity in a place this risky. "Hi."
Wasting no time, Charlie's lips went to your neck while his hands went to your waist, squeezing you there. You were surprised, not expecting this right away, not right now.
Charlie didn't want to throw away a single second alone with you.
"Fuck, you're so pretty." He breathed against your skin, spreading warmth throughout your entire body. "And smart. You're really good at this, you know. You've been impressing me all morning." He hummed, referring to your internship, all of the details you helped him with.
You made a soft noise. His compliments always made you feel like you were floating.
"What time is it?" He asked you in between kisses, knowing that you were able to see the clock over his shoulder in the position that you were standing in.
You blinked, trying to focus, it was so difficult to do so when he was touching you like this. It was easy for you to almost forget that you were at work right now."10:22." You told him.
"Thirteen minutes." He muttered, working it through in his brain. Charlie let a hand run down the side of your body, sneaking under your skirt. He quietly grunted when he felt the soft material of your little panties. "Just enough time to make you cum."
You gulped, heart pounding. "Sh-should we?" You asked, hips squirming against his hand that was searching all over your skin.
Charlie pretended to think about it, as if he didn't plan this since the second he saw you walk in the door this morning. "We should." He told you, lips brushing against your ear. "I'm the boss, remember? Who's going to tell me no?"
He hadn't meant that statement to be posed towards you. You could tell him no whenever you wanted and he'd respect that. He really just meant that he was in charge, as long as you didn't get caught, there was no one to get him in trouble.
But something about it made you gasp quietly. Charlie was always so sweet to you. Thinking about him saying that you couldn't deny him right now...It made you throb.
"I could never say no to you, Charlie. You could have me whenever you wanted." You admitted, skin heating up in embarrassment. It was true.
Charlie's lips pulled away from your throat so that he could press them against yours in a kiss. He sighed at the feeling, always being surprised by how much he loved a simple act like kissing you. He could do it all day.
His fingers expertly rubbed against you, somehow always knowing exactly how to find your clit even with the fabric covering you. You squeezed his shoulder at the contact, a shock of it going through your body.
"You know what to do, honey, don't you? You're used to it by now. Stay quiet for me." Charlie said, voice smooth and soothing. It allowed you to worry about nothing besides his fingers against you.
You nodded and made an attempt to answer him to let him know that you would. But before you could, he was slipping his fingers inside of your underwear and you made a noise of surprise instead, a quiet one.
"Mm." Charlie hummed, grinning at you when he felt how wet you already were. "You're perfect." He praised you, his middle finger slipping into your folds, dipping in.
Your skin was on fire, leaning against the wall while your hands grasped at his shoulders, his soft sweater.
"I could see how flustered you were all morning, I thought you might just be nervous. But I think I know why now." He teased you, spreading your wetness from your entrance to your clit, earning a noise from you in return. "My little girl was getting herself all worked up, wasn't she?"
You made a tiny whimper, trying to keep your voice down. You nodded as you made eye contact with him. "I love watching you work. You do such a good job. It turns me on." You told him sincerely.
Charlie's mouth opened slightly in response, always taken back by your compliments. You were the only one who gave them to him.
"You're such a good girl." He groaned softly, putting his free hand on the side of your face so that you were staring up at him as he began running his fingers over your clit, rubbing you in a slow but steady motion.
You squeezed his shoulder, looking into his eyes as you started moving your hips against his touch. "Fuck." You muttered, which earned a chuckle from Charlie. You cussed all the time and it always amused him, it seemed so out of place from someone like you.
"My good little intern." He smirked, staring down at your body, watching the way you were reacting to his touch. "Giving her boss what he needs, even on her break. Such a hard worker."
You let out a shaky exhale, clearly affected by his dirty words. "I just wanna make my boss proud." You said, eyes dancing slightly as you watched him stare at you. "Are you proud of me, Mr. Barber?" You asked in a pleading voice, his fingers starting to stroke you quicker.
"Oh, sweetheart." Charlie groaned, hand moving in rushed circles. "Daddy's so proud of you. You know what would make him even happier though?"
"Hm?" You asked a whimper.
"If you cum all over daddy's fingers. If you keep quiet for him and let him make you feel good." Charlie said lowly. His hand that had been on the side of your face cautiously moved down to your neck. He didn't squeeze you hard but he wrapped his hand around the side of your throat, a threat of it.
"Please." You sighed, your muscles starting to tighten up warmly.
You were so cute and so desperate, if you two weren't supposed to be quiet, Charlie would've made you say 'please' louder. But now wasn't the time. "Okay, baby."
As he said that, he inserted two of his fingers slowly inside of you, twisting his hand so that his thumb could brush over your clit in the same fast rhythm that his other fingers had been.
You gasped, moving so that you could bury your face into the crook of Charlie's neck in an attempt to silence yourself, grabbing onto him tightly.
Charlie could've died right there. Feeling you hold him so close as your muscles began to clench around his fingers, making tiny little noises against his neck. It was like heaven. "Just like that."
He continued these motions for a few minutes, fucking you with his fingers and working your clit, holding you steady in place.
"Oh! I-I..." You trailed off, unable to tell him that you were going to cum because you were nervous that you would end up speaking too loudly if you did.
Charlie knew what you were trying to communicate. He didn't stop his motions, holding you tightly against him. He could feel your muscles flutter around his fingers as you dug your face further into his neck, keeping yourself quiet.
You felt like you could see stars, cumming hard and quick.
He whispered to you that you were a good girl over and over again, holding you tightly in his grip to make sure that you were comfortable on your feet. His cock ached inside of his pants, feeling how tight you were around his fingers and wishing that it was him instead.
If he had more than ten minutes, he would've fucked you, that was for sure.
As you came down from your high, Charlie gently pulled away from you so that he could make eye contact with you again, prying you away from the way you were hiding in the shoulder of his cardigan.
He had a big grin on his face, as he slowly moved his hand out from inside of your panties. "You did great, honey. Do you want to keep making your boss proud?"
You nodded, in a daze, taking deep breaths to bring yourself back to Earth. "Mhm." You answered.
Charlie brought his hand up to your mouth, "Clean yourself off of my fingers. I can't be all wet when we go back to work." He told you in a gentle voice, the tips of his fingers against your lips.
You giggled, embarrassed. You blinked up at him, hesitating for only a small moment before wrapping your lips around his fingers. Your skin was on fire when you realized you could taste yourself.
Charlie was watching you with slightly parted lips, muttering out a breathless, 'fuck' as he stared at all the little faces and noises you were making as you sucked on his fingers
When you were sure that you had gotten all of your taste off his skin, you pulled away with a gentle 'pop' sound, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
"Good girl." He teased you, chuckling, "Maybe I should start paying you. You work so hard for me." Charlie joked. If you could get paid for letting Charlie do filthy things to you in secretive closets all day, you would not be opposed. You were already doing it for free.
"No kidding." You muttered, chuckling, straightening out your skirt and smoothing your shirt back down, fixing your hair. You stole a glance up at him and a smile formed on your face, mirroring his. You couldn't help yourself from standing on your toes and pressing your lips against his.
Charlie sighed softly, the faint taste of yourself on your lips from how you'd just cleaned off his fingers. It was addicting.
He pulled away, brushing some hair away from your eyes. "You should head out. I'll be out when the break's over."
You nodded, agreeing. "See you soon." You smirked, thrilled at the idea that you would have to pretend as if nothing happened in front of your co-workers. Like your boss hadn't just given you a knee-shaking orgasm in the prop closet.
Charlie watched you go, appreciating how careful and quiet you were as you peered out into the hallway and closed the door behind you.
He grunted under his breath as he adjusted his hard cock in his pants. He'd have to calm down a bit before he went back out there in front of everyone.
During lunch, as usual, you and Charlie were eating alone in his office. Today he picked up some food before work, stopping by a place a few blocks away. You had only mentioned once in passing what kind of sandwiches were your favorite but somehow he remembered, getting the order exactly how you liked it.
"I've never done it." You told him after taking a drink from your water bottle.
"You haven't?" Charlie asked, an amused smile on his face.
You gave him a look. "Is it really that surprising? I wouldn't like the attention."
The two of you were discussing karaoke.
He brought up the fact that the company sometimes went to an open mic night and if he was feeling up to it, he'd participate. You'd been to a few karaoke nights and bars but you'd never done it yourself, always too embarrassed to do so in that setting.
Charlie grinned as he imagined it. How cute you'd be. He shrugged. "You said you were into acting before deciding you wanted to go the directing route. Lots of attention on you when you do that, right?"
You thought about it, contemplating. "Well, that's different. When I was acting I was pretending to be someone else."
His smile fell to a frown. He understood what you meant but it was hard to wrap his head around. Why wouldn't you want to be yourself? You were perfect.
Before he could comment on it, he watched the way you sighed under your breath as you spilled a few small crumbs onto your lap. You brushed them off, fingers grazing against your bare thigh as you did so.
It caused Charlie's attention to go to the top of your high socks, eyebrows raising, remembering.
"Oh," Charlie mumbled, his mouth completely full. He covered it sheepishly with his hand, turning towards his bag that he brought his work supplies in.
You raised an eyebrow, trying not to smirk too hard at the way he was quickly trying to chew and swallow the food in his mouth. It was always shocking to see how big of bites he took.
He held a finger up to you, telling you wordlessly to hold on for a minute as he searched through his bag.
Charlie grabbed at it and set it in your lap, easily leaning across the desk to do so. He swallowed his bite of food, wiping at his mouth with a napkin as he settled back in his seat. "I had to stop by the store this morning when I got our lunch"
You frowned in interest when you grabbed at what he'd just given you.
A pair of thigh-high socks. Light gray and the softest material.
"You probably already have some like that. It's no big deal." Charlie prefaced, "I saw them and thought of you. Then, I realized they'd match those pajamas of yours that I love so much and I couldn't help myself."
You grinned, running your fingers over the material as you stared at them. Your skin was warm as you thought about the pajamas he was referencing. Pink tank top and shorts, cartoon bunnies on them the same exact color of the socks he'd just given you. When he spent the night with you he wouldn't let you take them off.
You tried to imagine how Charlie must have looked as he checked out at the cash register. You wondered what else he bought. Maybe something Henry needed? Office supplies? It made your heart skip a beat as you imagined him bringing up some pens, maybe some medicine for at home, along with these socks.
"I love them." You told him sincerely, practically swooning at how sweet it was that he thought to bring these to you.
"Like I said, no big deal," Charlie said to you, leaning back in his rolling chair. He was casual but in reality, his heart was racing too. He'd never done something so bold in public like that. If someone would've seen him check out with those, how would he have been able to explain himself?
He decided that he would've told them that the costume department needed something similar and he was just grabbing them there.
But still, Charlie knew it wasn't the truth. It was such a rush for something so small.
"It is a big deal." You disagreed, still gazing down at them."Thank you." You added, looking back up at him.
Charlie grinned widely, pleased by the enamored look you were giving him. It really had been nothing, but it meant a lot to him that it meant so much to you. "You're welcome, sweetheart." He said gently.
You sighed happily, inspecting them.
"I do have one condition, though." Charlie wiped his hands on the napkin.
You raised an eyebrow.
"You have to wear them for me the next time we're alone. Nothing else. Just the socks."
You could do that.
Later that day, Charlie made plans with you to stop by your apartment that night. He said he'd stop at home to eat dinner then tell Nicole that he needed to stop back at the theater to check on something. He'd lie and say the guys he shared his office with needed help going through a few boxes of documents.
Charlie couldn't help himself.
All day, all he could think about was you. Naked. In those socks.
He had to get you alone.
When you arrived at your apartment, you wasted no time cleaning the place up the best that you could.
Charlie was coming over. You were so fucking excited.
It wouldn't be the first time he stopped by but it was the first time that you were prepared for him. In the past, it had always been welcome, but unexpected. You were glad that you could finally prepare.
You cleaned everything. Not just put everything away but you wiped down the countertops, scrubbed the toilet, vacuumed. It was the most you've done since moving in. If your large, handsome, married boss was going to be the reason you got your shit together, then so be it.
When it was up to what you assumed Charlie's standards were, you got yourself clean as well. You took your time in the shower, shaving, and using your favorite soap. When you got out you put some makeup on, the perfect smelling lotion and perfume.
You kept your fluffy robe on as your bare feet padded out to the main area of your apartment. You had about fifteen minutes until he was supposed to show up.
You poured yourself a glass of wine before you began lighting a few candles, setting the mood. You weren't really sure how to do this, you never had before.
Before you decided to relax on the bed to wait for him, you grabbed the socks from your table, where you set them when you first got home.
You knew what Charlie wanted. Nothing on. Just the socks.
A few hours earlier, Charlie had walked into his apartment, trying to hide the spring in his step. It wasn't often that he came home from work in such a light mood. But today he was, knowing where he was going later that night: your apartment.
Henry was laying on his stomach on the living room floor, putting together a puzzle.
"Hi." Charlie grinned, slipping his shoes off as he made his way inside."That looks cool." He said, motioning to the puzzle.
Henry ignored him, too focused on the task in front of him.
Charlie frowned but said nothing more, not wanting to waste his energy trying to get his son's attention. It never worked.
Making his way into the kitchen, he raised his eyebrows at what he saw. Nicole standing in front of the counter, plating pizza from a to-go box. She must've ordered some which is something she never did.
"Pizza?" He asked, gently touching her shoulder as he squeezed in behind her to open the fridge and grab a beer from it.
"Oh hi." Nicole greeted him, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah, from the place down the street. I needed something quick tonight."
Charlie frowned in confusion. He didn't understand.
"Oh, shit." Nicole sighed, "I meant to text you but it slipped my mind, I've been running around everywhere today." She wiped her hands off on a washcloth before turning towards him, leaning her back against the counter.
He took a sip of his beer, putting his free hand on his hip, fingers against the leather of his belt.
"That therapist got back to me." She said in a hushed voice, not wanting Henry to overhear. "It was all last minute, he just got an opening, but he likes to meet his clients at their houses first. I told him yes because I wasn't sure when else we'd get this opportunity."
Charlie's face fell, swallowing hard. The marriage counselor.
They'd been waitlisted for a while now. It was something they discussed the minute that they started realizing their marriage wasn't as strong as they previously thought. It was just a spur-of-the-moment decision to add their names to his list. They both assumed that they'd work their problems out themselves before the counselor ever got back to them.
Clearly, that was not the case.
"He's coming here? Tonight?" Charlie asked, trying to piece it together. Out of all nights? Fuck.
"Yeah, in forty-five minutes," Nicole told him. Then she peered over his shoulder into the living room so that she could call Henry's name, telling him to come to the kitchen so that he could start eating.
"Wait," Charlie stepped in front of Nicole, blocking Henry from getting into the kitchen. "What are we telling Henry? A strange man is showing up in our home to talk about our problems. I don't want him here for that." He said, referencing his son.
Nicole sighed, gently touching Charlie's arm to move him out of the way so that Henry could get in the kitchen. "He wants Henry involved tonight, he's just trying to get to know us and our situation. He said it helps for everyone to be open about the process."
Charlie's mind was reeling, there was a lot to take in at once.
"He told me to think of him more of a family counselor, not just a marriage one." Nicole put a plate in front of Henry after he sat down at the table. "I already talked to Henry about it, didn't I?" She asked her son.
Henry nodded. "Someone's coming over to teach us how to get along better." He shrugged, taking a bite of the pizza.
Charlie felt sick. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to work on his marriage at this point. He knew that he should, he should be thrilled at the idea that it might improve. But he wasn't.
As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he knew the reason why he was so apathetic. He wanted you.
While Charlie thought about that, he remembered that he told you he'd stop by your apartment when he was done with dinner. Fuck.
He took a long drink from his beer, gulping more than half of it in one sip. "I'm going to change my clothes." He muttered.
Charlie didn't wait for a response, he left the kitchen and headed towards his bedroom down the hall. His hand instantly went for his phone in his pocket, unlocking it with his fingers that were far too big for the screen.
He had just gotten to his contact list, scrolling to find your name when he heard Nicole enter the room behind him. He locked his phone back up, putting it back in his pocket, not wanting an opportunity to get caught or questioned.
"I'm sorry, Charlie. I really thought I told you earlier. I could've told him no, but...He just ever has any openings and we wanted to see him so bad that one night, I thought you'd be excited-"
Charlie cut her off. "It's okay, really. I just had a long day and talking to a stranger about my problems isn't something I'm dying to do right now, you know?" He muttered, turning his back to her to start undressing.
Nicole bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. "I know. I mean...I'm not looking forward to it either. I've never done anything like this before, I have no idea what to expect." She said honestly.
He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a look of agreement.
It was a rare moment of understanding between the two of them.
There were a few beats of quietness as Charlie grunted under his breath, trying to shrug his cardigan off of his shoulder, getting tangled up in it slightly.
Nicole instantly reached forward and grabbed it, helping him take it off completely.
Another rare comfortable moment together, helping each other without any arguments.
"Thanks." He muttered, moving to the closet so that he could hang the sweater up.
"Hey," Nicole said, hesitant, making Charlie turn around to face her with concern.
"We're okay, right?" She frowned. "I mean, I know things haven't been easy lately but...we'll talk to this therapist once a week and work on it, and...it'll get better right? We can get back to normal."
Charlie felt like he could vomit right there in front of her.
He didn't know what to say.
Charlie took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. We're okay." He decided, giving her a strained smile.
They were far from it.
And the same could be said about you, as you laid there in bed, two hours after Charlie said he'd stop by. Of course, you were disappointed that he wasn't currently inside of you, making you moan his name. But really...You felt fucking stupid.
You knew you couldn't text him and ask if he was still coming over, you could never text him out of the blue. It was frustrating, you had no way to contact him if you weren't physically together.
After the third hour of waiting around, naked in your socks and robe, you realized it was useless. He wasn't coming over.
You blew out the candles with a sigh before you got into comfortable pajamas, unflattering ones (because who was going to see them?), with the socks he bought you balled up in the corner of the room.
You should've known it was too good to be true. Thinking about Charlie coming over casually after work seemed too normal, seemed too real. This was a harsh reminder of the situation the two of you were in.
He didn't belong to you. He had a family, that's who he was with right now.
And while Charlie had been with his wife and son, you'd been naked in bed waiting for him. You felt so fucking stupid and gross.
You settled into bed, pulling your blankets up while you got your phone out. Time to mindlessly scroll to distract yourself.
You went on a few different social media sites, staring at the photos that your friends posted. Anniversary posts, selfies with their boyfriends, pictures of their new houses together...
You'd never have that with Charlie, you realized.
You were the other woman. That was it.
You sighed when you felt the way that tears were forming in your eyes.
This night in particular wasn't a huge deal and you knew that. Sure, he couldn't come over when he said he would, it sucked but it was no big deal. You could brush it off in the morning. But it made your thoughts spiral.
It was easy to forget how wrong this was when you were with him because it always felt so right. You felt no guilt when you were alone with him because he was always making you laugh and smile and blush but now that you were all on your own, really thinking about it....
You put your phone down on your dresser, pulling your blanket further up your body with a sniffle, wiping your eyes.
Your sister was right when she told you that you should stay away from Charlie. You were very good at getting yourself caught up in hopeless situations.
You grabbed at your phone again, glancing at the time. Not too late. You wanted to call your sister, Erin. She would be so mad at you for sneaking around with Charlie but at least you could share your feelings with someone, vent about it.
Hours later, Charlie was standing on the balcony of his apartment, leaning his elbows on the railing. He blew smoke out from the side of his mouth, a cigarette hanging from his fingers.
That was rough.
The counselor had just talked to him and Nicole about what their everyday lives were like, how they met. He talked to Henry for a while, asking him about how he was doing, just trying to get the bigger picture.
Charlie knew that it would be a helpful process...If he actually wanted the help.
But the entire time, all he could think about was you.
When the therapist asked about what their goals were for therapy, Charlie found himself at a loss. He didn't have a goal anymore. Before, he just always wanted his family back to normal. And although a part of him still wanted that, for Henry's sake, he didn't exactly want his marriage with Nicole back.
Before he met you, he probably would've been more complacent in his situation. He'd feel stuck with Nicole and would've tried anything to work their marriage out just so that they could give Henry the best life possible. But now that he knew you, he realized how much more life had in store for him. He didn't feel alive with Nicole, he did with you. Charlie wanted that all the time.
The therapist made a list of things they would work on together, topics that were going to be discussed when they met at his office next week. It all felt so phony and fake to Charlie.
Throughout the process, he could only think about you. Charlie knew he was supposed to be at your apartment. He was hoping that you'd understand that he tried to make it but couldn't.
He hadn't even gotten the chance to text you and tell you he couldn't come over, Nicole was always around and it made him too nervous to send a quick text in the bathroom in case you decided to respond to him when he wasn't alone.
Charlie had no idea how much effort you put into him stopping by, how you waited for hours and hours, in the cute little socks he bought you, on your bed.
He glanced behind him, through the sliding glass door. Everyone in the apartment was asleep, he could see the way that all the lights were off, they had been for a while.
Charlie stuck the cigarette back in between his lips as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, wanting to call you so that he could explain.
A conversation from earlier that night echoed in his mind as he did so:
The therapist glanced behind him, making sure that Henry was out of earshot before he leaned forward, talking in a hushed tone. "I have to ask...Has there been any infidelity during the marriage?"
Charlie's heart stopped.
Before you became his intern, there hadn't been any unfaithfulness. He never thought he would have the balls and lack of morals to cheat on Nicole. But here he was, thinking about you and your little skirts and the way you moaned his name when he should be attempting to save his marriage.
"No." Charlie had said, shaking his head, keeping his voice unsuspicious.
Nicole agreed, "No infidelity. Charlie and I wouldn't do that. Things have been hard but we'd never take it to that level." She said confidently as if she were trying to convince the therapist as much as she was trying to convince herself.
The therapist nodded, "Okay, that's good. I only have to know because that would change a lot of steps in this process." He explained before he began talking more about the process itself, what they would start working on first.
Charlie wasn't listening. He was a cheater. It always surprised him when it hit him.
His eyes stared at your name, lips in a slight pout as he thought it over. What if Nicole decided to crack the bedroom window and she overheard the conversation? What if she needed some water and checked on him, catching him? What if, god forbid, Henry heard something?
Charlie took a long drag of the cigarette, nerves getting to him. He couldn't call you. He was too anxious.
He put his phone back in his pocket, cursing under his breath.
God, he wanted you here. It was becoming increasingly clear to him that he didn't know what to do if you weren't around making him smile and laugh. You always knew how to cheer him up and distract him even without meaning to.
Charlie swallowed hard, finger tapping his cigarette to get rid of excess ash.
He didn't deserve you.
He pulled his phone back out, pulling up a new tab so that he could google search for florists near him. Charlie wanted to buy you flowers, write a little note telling you that he was sorry. Maybe he could get them sent to your apartment before you even left and you could come to work in a good mood.
He scrolled through the website, finding which flowers you'd like best, which ones reminded him of you. There was a light purple and pink arrangement, delphiniums, and wolf's bane with a few white roses scattered in between.
Perfect.
He knew it wasn't enough. But maybe, it would help.
You hung up the call with your sister. You thought it would help but it just made you feel shittier.
Erin had spent almost all of the thirty-minute phone call scolding you for being involved with a married man. She kept reminding you that she was also married and how devastating it would be for her family if her husband cheated on her.
She was right, you hated to think about it or admit it to yourself, but what you were doing was terrible.
You stared up at the ceiling, tears leaking from the sides of your eyes, collecting on your pillowcase beneath you. How could you do this? How did you have the ability to knowingly ruin a family every day?
Before you hung up, your sister made you promise something to her:
You were going to end it with Charlie.