Four Months Ago
The buzz of my machine drowns out the thoughts of Charlie as I finish up the design on my client's rib cage.
It's been a few weeks since I ran into Charlie at the store, and my thoughts have been on a fucking loop since. My brain taunts me, replaying her holding that pregnancy test in her hand. Every day, I pick up my phone, intending to call her to find out if she's okay. To see if she needs anything-food, chocolate, anything else she might be craving. I keep from doing it by reminding myself I'm the last person she wants to hear from.
It doesn't stop me from reading and learning everything about pregnancy and what she's going through.
Charlie may not be mine anymore, but I will always be hers. I should have always been hers, but I let someone get into my head and became weak when temptation was in front of me.
Nothing I do will ever make up for what I did, but I can become a better person from the destruction left in my wake.
And I'm trying.
Some days, I think I succeed, but then on days like today, where I'm fighting the urge to call her and barge my way into her life, I know I'm still that selfish prick who fucked someone else.
It's how I know there's still work to be done.
I'm making progress in therapy. We've mainly tackled my reasons for straying, but I'm struggling to accept them, so that's what I'm working on now. It's hard for me to reconcile the person I was before Rihanna came into my life to the person I became after she was in it.
But it's a start and more than I had seven months ago.
I pull my machine away from the human skin canvas before me, checking my work. Satisfied, I grab the bottle of Green Soap and squirt it onto a paper towel to wipe away any excess ink, blood, and plasma built up on the piece.
Besides the music drifting through the shop's speakers and the noise from Rune and Bear's stations as they sling ink, it's quiet between my client and me.
They're used to it. They know I don't speak anymore unless I have something someone needs to hear, and right now, the only person I got meaningful shit to say something to is my Charlie-girl.
"All good?" I ask, letting him view the finished piece in the mirror.
"Fucking bet, Kea," he says with a wide grin. "I think it's your best one yet."
"Glad you like it, man. Let's wrap it up, then we'll get you out of here."
As soon as he's ready to go, I send him over to Frankie to finish up. Her real name is Frances, but she's threatened to slice our nuts off with the dull and rusty blade she keeps in her boot if we ever called her that. She also made sure to play show and tell when she made the threat.
It wouldn't surprise me if the fucking woman is kin to Amelia.
My mind drifts as I clean up my station, this time moving to the news my lawyer gave me recently.
The private investigator that he hired has finally given us enough solid evidence against Rihanna that we can finally move forward with the case.
Now, if only they can find her crazy ass. It seems she's disappeared. The texts keep coming in from different unknown numbers, letting me know she's lurking around here somewhere.
If it comes down to it, I'll draw her out just to watch her burn for all the destruction she's caused in so many people's lives.
The truth is...it's not the men who've fallen into her trap that I want her punished for. It's for the innocent victims who were caught in her crosshairs. The wives, the partners, the children. They deserve to have something done for them. Rihanna went through all those men, knowing they had someone waiting for them at home. She just didn't give a shit. She maliciously helped us hurt the people who deserved it the least, so she doesn't just get away from the damage she's helped inflict on the betrayed people.
I'm not anyone's hero, but I can only fight so much for Charlie right now. This is helping to give me a purpose.
Something I struggled to find before I blew up my life.
My phone goes off as I put away my machine.
I swipe it from the counter and light up the screen, finding a notification from Charlie.
My heart pounds as I pull up her message.
I'm quick in my response.
The bubbles appear, showing me she's writing back, so I stay frozen, scared to move in case I miss a message.
I check my station one last time, making sure its clean and organized before heading to Rune's.
He's just finishing up the piece on the woman's inner thigh. His touch is a lot more intimate than I usually see with him. When he speaks to her, there's a warmth to his tone that I've only ever seen reserved when talking about his ex. The woman is receptive to him, but I can also tell there's some shady history between them that says he's probably burned her more than once.
It's like ever since I fucked up my life, I can spot when someone else is or already has fucked up theirs too.
It's fucking weird, and I'm not sure I like it. Lionel says something about empathy, but I don't fucking know.
"Rune," I call.
He glances up, his chartreuse eyes swirling with emotions I'm all too familiar with.
"Gotta head out for a few."
"Everything good?"
His voice has always had this gravelly tone that makes him sound perpetually angry. It's like he spent years screaming so loud he's damaged his vocal cords.
"Yeah, man." My eyes fall to the quiet girl hiding her face behind her neon green and black hair. "All good here?"
"Shit's fine," Rune says, but I keep my eyes on her.
"What about you, lady? Are you good?"
Her head jerks up, her eyes snapping wide. They're startling-a bright honey color with a dark chocolate ring surrounding it. But that isn't what makes them startling. After seeing their torment, I don't know if startling is even the right word.
But the only time I've ever seen that much agony is when I destroyed Charlie.
"I'm good," she says so softly that I almost miss it.
I catch Rune swallowing hard at her words, making me wonder if she deprives him of it.
The last thing I expect to see in RUne's eyes when I peer back at him is appreciation. I was sure he'd be pissed I didn't trust him and deferred to her instead.
Then it hits me who she probably is judging by his reactions.
Deyanira. His ex.
He's mentioned her several times, but I don't know anything about her or their relationship. I don't need to know to understand there's a lot of fucking pain there.
I pull in a deep breath, hurting for them. I nod at Rune and tap my knuckles against the counter in goodbye before heading out to meet Charlie.
***
Standing in front of Grinders, I rub my hands down my pant legs to wipe away the sweat that's built at the thought of seeing her.
Charlie stands beside the counter, arms folded as she chats with one of her employees.
My eyes stay glued to her as I search for changes in her body. Something to give away that she's pregnant, but she's just the same beautiful woman I've been in love with since I was a kid.
Drawing a deep breath, I wrap my fingers around the handle and pull it open.
Her pretty, ice-colored eyes clash with mine, flooding me with warmth. There's a shifting feeling near my heart as she holds eye contact.
My body lights with cravings for her touch.
I'd swear desire flashes in her eyes for a second, but I can't be sure as it's gone just as quickly.
As much as I want to rush and erase the distance between us, I force myself to make my way to her.
It always feels like a dream when she's standing in front of me because I can never be sure when it will be the last.
"Hey," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her.
Her face is blank as she stares at me.
Lifting a hand to my neck, I rub against the itch her stare causes.
Charlie doesn't give anything away, unlike the last time I stood before her.
"I'll grab us a coffee. Go on over to that back corner booth," she says abruptly.
Coffee is good, right? If she was pregnant, she wouldn't be drinking it.
I don't think.
Unless it's decaf, maybe.
I keep hope from growing as I head toward the booth she directed me to.
It's close to the back with less foot traffic than other tables. It provides us with privacy while giving her the comfort of being in public.
My knee bounces under the table, my fingers shredding the napkin I pulled from the holder after I sat down. It's not a long wait for her, just minutes, but it fucking claws at me, making my senses spin out of control.
It seems like a fucking lifetime before she joins me.
Charlie sits opposite me and pushes the thick cup towards me. She lifts hers, blowing through the small hole in the lid before taking a cautious sip. Her vacant eyes remain locked on me as she musters the strength to share whatever she's brought me here to discuss.
The longer she stalls, the more sweat gathers at my temples, and my heart races.
After another sip, she finally sits down with a sigh and leans back into the booth. "The tests came back negative."
Tears well up behind my eyelids when my muscles go weak.
I press my palms to my eyes to hold back the tears. Charlie doesn't need to deal with my fucking emotions. Especially when I don't even know how she's feeling.
Wiping my wet palms on my jeans, I finally glance at her. "How are you feeling about this?" I ask, reaching out to touch her hand before pulling away before I make contact.
"I'm okay." Charlie takes another drink of her coffee. "I'm not ready yet, Keaton. But it scared me and made me so damn angry at you. More than I already was because, like I told you at the store, I should have been doing that with you."
I wince at the burn from the coffee as I suck it down. I savor the pain because it lets me know that I'm still alive. That I didn't get out of the consequences so easily.
"Why'd you tell me, Charlie? You don't owe me anything."
She laughs ruefully. "If only you know how often I said that to myself when deciding." Her sigh fills the space between us. "I don't even know, honestly. It came down to the fact that despite how cruelly you hurt me, I just don't have it in me to ever hurt anyone else that way. Not even you, Keaton. I know you enough to know it was eating at you."
"That's because you're a good person, Char."
She scoffs, shaking her head. "Keep me off the pedestal, Keaton. I can't explain how many times I've fantasized about causing you the amount of pain you've caused me. There were days when it was the only thing giving me peace."
Her words dig into my skin, tearing through muscle, tissue, and bone-so deep and vicious they'll leave scars behind.
Scars I deserve for making her into the type of person who needs to imagine someone's pain in order to fall asleep at night.
Scars I want, so I'm always aware of how easily it is to let fo my integrity.
Scars I crave, so I'll never forget that I'm a person who could betray my love easily.
Scars I own, so I always succeed in being a better person every day.
Blowing out a breath, I shake my head, finally clasping her hand with mine.
A tremble goes through us both at the touch.
"But you didn't, Charlie. It's not putting you on a pedestal. It's simply stating a fact. You can fantasize about shit all you want, but you're not a person who'll act maliciously toward another person."
She leans back and folds her arms across her chest, a mulish expression crossing her face.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
Fuck, she's cute.
"You don't know me anymore."
Her words are bullets that penetrate my chest. "You're right. I don't. I'm sorry." I shoot a gentle smile at her. "But that's a part of you that will never change, Charlie. Being a good person is ingrained in you, and I'm sorry if I've ever taken advantage of that."
"Is that why you cheated?" she asks abruptly, doing her best to hide the anguish in her eyes. "Was I too good of a person? You needed someone who...wasn't?"
"No," I reply immediately. "Never would it have been because of that. I love that part of you."
She shakes her head, her eyes glossy. "Then why, Keaton?"
"I'm still working on that in therapy, but I've figured the biggest underlying reason is complacency."
"Complacency," she scoffs, struggling with the answer I've given her.
"I know it's not some special reason, Charlie," I say quietly. "I don't blame you for not understanding or believing it. Not when I'm still struggling to accept it, too. I'm not blaming her, not fully, because, at the end of the day, I'm the one who was weak and allowed her to get inside my head, making it easy to turn things in her favor. I began to doubt us whenever I was around Rihanna because she always whispered things in my ear. If I'd have listened to my heart, maybe I would have been able to catch how much I was fucking up sooner."
"Why wouldn't you listen to anyone else, Keaton? So many people tried telling you. We tried getting you to see, but you never wanted to listen. It's like you were in denial about it all. You made it seem like we were all lying when I've never lied to you in our lives."
Witnessing the pain in her eyes is my deserving punishment. There used to be a time I'd fight someone for making her look like that, but how the hell do I fight myself? The one person she had enough trust in not to put that expression there.
And I fucking failed us.
"Are you okay doing this now?" I ask softly, concerned about where this will put her.
Charlie blows out a sorrowful breath. "No, but honestly, I doubt there's ever going to be a time when I am."
"Fair enough." I take a drink of my coffee before continuing. "I truly wish I could give a straight answer to you as to why I didn't listen to anyone. As hard as it is for me to swallow and you to hear, maybe I just didn't want to. I didn't want to believe I was doing anything to jeopardize us. When I was around her, Rihanna's attention felt good. It was when I wasn't that I'd wake out of whatever fucking fog I was under. Then the cycle would start all over again."
I glance up at her to check on her, keeping an eye on her mental health. The first sign that this is too much for her, and I'm stopping for the time being. Tears are falling from her eyes, but she nods, letting me know she's okay for me to continue.
"I didn't realize I had any insecurities until I started seeing Lionel. When we were digging deep and trying to understand why I did what I did-"
"Why you cheated," she says in a stony voice. "Saying it correctly keeps you accountable, Keaton."
"You're right," I admit, nodding. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to downplay it."
"I know. Just...stop trying to protect me and tell me."
I exhale heavily and drop my eyes. "When we were trying to understand why I cheated, they started showing up. I always felt like I had so much pressure to be perfect, you know? Mom had so many complications while she was pregnant with me and then all the shit she had after. It made me feel like I constantly had to measure up to some impossible standard to make up for her not being able to have any more kids. Even though it wasn't my fault, I still felt responsible because I knew how much she wanted more. I caught her and Dad talking about it quietly so many times."
"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" she asks quietly, the hurt in her voice strangling me.
"Because I didn't tell anyone, Char. Not even myself. It makes me feel like a shitty son to even admit it because mom and dad are great. They've never pressured me to be anything but myself, and they've never once made me feel like any of that shit was my fault. Lionel said it's just a pressure I put on myself."
"What else was working through your head?"
I let out a sad, bitter laugh. "Fucking everything. Once I started letting Rihanna fuck with it, all kinds of shit started popping off up there. I was worried about us not lasting because childhood sweethearts rarely do. They grow up and grow apart as they become who they'll be. When I started thinking about that, fear would grab me because I couldn't imagine my life without you in it. It's like this huge cycle, and I couldn't find my way out. Then I felt you pulling away because of Rihanna, which terrified me even more."
"But not enough to walk away from her."
Bringing my palms to my eyes, I press them against my eye sockets to rub away the grittiness from my fight with my tears.
"No," I admit, through the thickness in my throat.
Charlie's fingers wrap gently around my wrist, sending electrical currents through my body and making me tremble. She pulls them away from my face until I left with no choice but to look at her.
Despite the grief in her eyes, she gives me a trembling smile. "Thank you for being honest."
"It's all you'll ever get from me now," I reply gruffly.
"I'm going to be honest now," she says, and I brace myself, terrified of what she will say. "I don't know if this is something we can get past, Keaton. You finally admitted that there was a time in our relationship when I wasn't enough, and I don't know how to get past that."
"Charlie, please listen to me. If you hear nothing else, please hear this. If there was anyone who was never enough in our relationship, it was me. None of this is on you. You are and always have been one of the best things that's ever happened to me. You're this beautiful, bright ball of life. Of love. You've always lit my world up. You were always enough for me, Charlie. I was just not worthy of the love you had for me. Should you determine that forgiveness or reconciliation is impossible, I will respect your decision and refrain from begging you. We both have to want that if there's any chance of it succeeding. Since we're being honest, I'll tell you that's what I want. I'm hoping you'll bless me with that someday." I take a chance and reach across the table, brushing a loose piece of lavender hair away from her eye. "But, Butterfly, I want your happiness more than anything. Even if it's not with me. So, if there's ever a time when you want to walk away, where you want to put me behind you forever, don't ever feel bad for telling me that. You hear me?"
She sniffles, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her hand. "I hear you."
It gets quiet between us as we lean back and stare at each other. The conversation has drained us, but there's a fragile sort of...peace, maybe...between us now.
I don't know where we go from here either, but for the first time since I fucked up and cheated, blowing our worlds apart, I feel a little shot of hope.