A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry, this was delayed. If some of you were following me on social media, you might already know that I had my wisdom teeth taken out so I was down and out of commission for a few days. I'd already started this but just didn't feel well enough to sit down and finish it. I'm hoping to write a little bit more this weekend and post the next entry.
This one covers only a part of Chapter 12 since that chapter transpires over a couple of days and I'd like to keep the entries lined up with the dates. I have a feeling the next one is going to give you a better glimpse of the wedding than what you saw in TMMM. I've had a few complaints about the stingy details about that. LOL.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this!
***
Jake and I go way back.
He's my best and oldest friend. He's seen me through the best and worst. And while we've had a few differences in the last two decades we've known each other, I haven't felt like punching him out cold more than I did today.
I didn't really think that Jake was serious about Charlotte.
He has a crush on her, sure. Every guy within a mile radius is afflicted with it.
He adores her, yes, because God knows no one is strong enough not to. But I didn't think he'd felt more deeply about it.
And while I still don't think it's love, I could tell Jake cares the hell about her enough to get in my face after chatting her up out on the balcony. He pretty much told me that I didn't deserve her but since I was the lucky bastard to have her, I better deserve her. Like I already didn't know that.
Jake's too smooth with girls that I'm not sure most of them believe him when he's promising them the moon and the stars. I only cared that Charlotte didn't do something as silly as to have a crush on him too. We're all way too old for this—right?
I was ready to tell her that Jake's just playing around but when I saw that distant look of regret on her face as she mused about the choice between true love and a million dollars, it hit me that I was an idiot.
Jake might be too sweet on her but I was the one who forced her into the pinching shoes of the legendary Mrs. Maxfield at the price of a million dollars. Jake could tell her one corny pick-up line after another and I would still come out the ultimate jerk.
But I didn't know what to tell her.
I could tell her what I wanted then was nowhere near what I wanted now and that despite the lies that brought us together, I realized a brand new important truth.
But I don't want Charlotte to run when she realizes that I want her for the rest of our lives. I don't want her to see this arrangement as a trap to hold on to her forever because right now, I'm still digging my way out of her bad side so I could make my way across. Despite everything that's happened between us in the past few weeks, the fact remained that I practically blackmailed her into this situation, turned her life upside down and cheapened what turned out to be an incredible thing between us with money.
So I stayed my hand, no matter how much I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to wonder how it would be like to have someone love her and not just consider her an obligation. That was already all true. I just needed to convince her.
The plan to Paris was key. With Marissa's help, everything was set and ready to go. I was coordinating the final details of that on top of formulating the perfect excuse to keep her here for tonight rather than hand her over to Dad when I got the call from Simone.
It was awkward as hell, I tell you.
For one, because she talked like she did when we were still going out—sweet, affectionate, teasingly intimate. But I wasn't responding like I used to because while I still appreciated her a lot as a good friend, there was none of the old heat stirring in me. I honestly just wanted her to get to the point so I could get back to the kitchen to make Charlotte's sandwich. I must've blurted something like that out loud because all her sugar disappeared. She was frustrated, angry and petulant at the same time, demanding to talk and 'drop the act'. She wanted to come up with an alternative, or just talk to my father about it. And what precisely was I supposed to tell my father? That I didn't really want to marry Charlotte because I wanted to be with Simone? That doesn't really solve anything because that would be an even bigger lie than my engagement to Charlotte. She wanted me to find a way out that didn't involve marrying Charlotte. Good intentions, I get it, but I didn't want a way out. I've shut that door firmly close on myself and made a home here, with the woman I wanted to marry.
Our conversation, no matter how patient I tried to be, quickly disintegrated into a heated argument until I finally had to hang up—only to find the penthouse empty.
Knowing that Charlotte was on her own again, still injured and vulnerable, wiped my brain clean of other worries.
I might have panicked. Might have.
When I made it to the lobby, I quickly spotted the two women but the sight arrested me on the spot.
This was the first time I'd seen Charlotte and Simone in the same frame and the contrast between them couldn't have been more obvious. You would think that two different men would've been with these two very different women.
But then, looking back at it now, just a few weeks ago, I was a very different man with Simone—a man who wanted different things. With Charlotte, I started wanting things I would've run from had I stayed the old me.
Still, it was a startling sight because of what it showed me beyond the obvious.
Simone, as usual, was well-dressed and polished without a hair out of place. Even when she was clearly upset, she was still as poised as ever.
Charlotte was in jeans, sneakers and an old baseball cap, looking a little rough with her bandaged hands and unruly hair. But all of that faded against the proud outline of her profile and the crackle of energy around her. She reminded me of a weary but indomitable warrior princess except for the lack of a badass sword and shield. Despite the obvious physical toll of her injuries, no one could miss the sharp glint of intelligence in those bright blue-green eyes and the steel in the spine and shoulders of her petite frame. But much like a fair, merciful queen, she regarded Simone with wary concern like someone completely aware of their damaging strength even when she was the one looking up several inches to hold steady the other woman's gaze.
Yes.
Charlotte may be petite and understated but she would always be the sucker punch you never saw coming. I would know because I'm still reeling and catching my breath from the first time she crashed into my life.
And as I stood there, I realized that I saw so much more than the usual feminine trappings when I looked at Charlotte. Simone and the many other women in my past would be normally be summarized in a sentence or two but with Charlotte, I saw more and more no matter how many times I've looked closely. And it's not because she didn't have the usual feminine charms to hide behind but simply because everything else about her stood out first that the obvious details were mere embellishments.
And since I was paying rapt attention, I noticed something else—the slight droop in her shoulders, the exhaustion, the increasing stiffness of her movements. Despite holding up splendidly in front of a woman who towered over her by several inches, her physical strength was running low because here she was yet again—fighting another battle she's not supposed to be tangled in.
Really, Charlotte's going to turn me gray before I hit thirty. She just couldn't be trusted to take care of herself. This was a fight she didn't have to do. There was no contest between her and Simone. I'll tell you who the clear winner is—she's a five-foot-two-inch tall, curvy bottle of sunshine with mermaid eyes and a mischievous smile.
I barely paid attention to Simone when I walked into the conversation and yes, it was incredibly rude but none of this would've happened if she'd taken my word for it and left when I told her to earlier.
So I vented first, ensuring that Charlotte knew exactly the kind of short hell she put me through when I discovered her gone. It would hopefully appeal to her selfless part enough that she'd never do it to me again.
But she just rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me, calling me a mother hen. It was supposed to infuriate me further but instead the air in my chest cleared out and I was able to breathe again.
I wanted nothing more than to pick her up and drag her back to the penthouse, telling her that since she pulled off a disappearing act on me, I'd punish her by keeping her hostage the night before the wedding and Dad could disinherit me down to my last penny. But no, Charlotte just had to be the most exasperating saint on earth because she went ahead and offered to drop Simone off.
I wasn't very happy with Simone at that moment and the last thing I wanted was to give myself more opportunity to be harsh with her but you try telling Charlotte to do something and see where it gets you. I'm looking forward to your report.
Thankfully, the trip to Simone's place was short and sweet except for the ridiculous fifteen minutes the three of us spent figuring out who was sitting where. And when I thought this was revealing enough of Charlotte's uncertainty of where she felt her place was in this relationship, she blurts out this nonsense about how I was in love with Simone.
I have never been and will never be in love with Simone.
Maybe to her innocent and romantic heart, it's hard to consider other reasons why you'd choose to be intimate with someone. Charlotte definitely isn't the type who'd go looking for a no-strings-attached arrangement. She often feels too strongly that to feel something about someone she's with is probably inevitable. Which is why no matter how sure I was about how I felt, I wanted to go slowly, to help reveal her own heart to her. At nineteen, she probably hasn't met enough men to know fully what she wanted. I didn't want to be the default choice because I was convenient and inevitable. I wanted her to see that despite the awful start we had and the even more awful reason we first came together, I actually loved her.
Who knows, right? Maybe in a year, maybe in ten years, she'll learn to love me too.
But I did my best to let her know that she had nothing to worry about when it came to Simone because unlike our seating arrangement dilemma in the car earlier, I knew exactly where Charlotte belonged—in that moment with me, down the church aisle tomorrow in her wedding dress and sneakers (if she and I had our way), and in my arms for the rest of our lives.
Unfortunately, I wasn't going to get exactly what I wanted because I had to hand her over to Dad and the rest of my family for the rest of the evening. Despite resenting the fact that I was going to sleep alone and quite possibly hard tonight (my bed smells like her), I was glad that Charlotte would be in good hands before the big day, surrounded by family. Never mind that she didn't have any of her own. Obviously, blood didn't always run thicker and she'd be the first to know. Family was anyone who stood by you.
After she disappeared inside, I headed to the side of the house, down a private foot path that wound around the gardens and past Dad's office which had its own exterior door. I let myself in and waited on an armchair knowing eventually he was going to come back from greeting Charlotte. My sisters would do their job of taking her away to start all the wedding prep.
Dad didn't even look surprised when he saw me.
He just sat down behind his desk and asked if I was there because I changed my mind.
And I just shook my head, laughed a little because it was an absurd question, and asked him if I looked like I was there to get out of the wedding.
'I look at you and I only see one thing—you're happy.' That was what my old man told me and I wouldn't admit it out loud but my eyes pricked and I had to look away for a moment.
I've loved and respected Dad my whole life. I don't know a better man than him but despite all that, I don't think we've ever had a conversation where I told him all that. I figured the fact that I was doing my best to be the man he wanted me to be would show all of that somehow.
But I had to say thank you—and I did.
The words were low and a bit choked that at first I wasn't sure he heard me. Then he leaned back, those sharp blue eyes watching me keenly, and said that if it was for introducing me to Charlotte, that I had nothing to thank him for. 'Fate always makes itself known. It's up to us to acknowledge it,' he said.
So I told him that no, it wasn't for that even though I do owe him that as well, fate-willing or not.
I told him thank you for saving a girl who was all alone in the world, for preserving her heart before it could harden into stone, and for making sure that she can still smile someday. Whether she was ever meant to give that heart to me or send that smile my way someday didn't matter. Anyone in that kind of crisis needed a hero. The fact that it's the girl I was going to love in the future is just fate being, well, fanciful.
Dad didn't say much, just smiled at me.
So before I could make a complete emotional mess of myself in front of him, I got up to leave but not before I solemnly promised my father.
'You saved her. But I'm going to keep her happy for the rest of her life.'
I was brooding on my drive back.
I kept thinking that early tomorrow afternoon, Charlotte's going to be officially part of my life, my family. And while I know that my family would do their best by her, it felt unfair that there was no one to care about any of it from her side. No one to make sure that she would be in good hands, that she'd be well taken care of and protected, that she'd be happy. There wasn't even anyone I could make promises to, someone to impress upon that marriage to Charlotte is something I'm taking very seriously, to hold me accountable for these promises.
So I placed a call to Filbert to get information.Fifteen minutes later, I was trudging my way along the uneven and muddy path of a small cemetery just north of Charlotte's house, trailing after the old and arthritic caretaker to track down the grave of a Lawrence Samuels.
I didn't really know what I came to say.
I just stood there silently for a while, looking down on the ordinary, nondescript tombstone above the grave of a man I both loathed and owed.
I loathed him for all the pain he caused Charlotte and I owed him somewhat because he was still instrumental to that fact that Charlotte is in this world, in my life. For all his worthless actions and decisions in life, he did one thing right and that was to have her.
I finally spoke.
'I can never undo the damage you did to her but I can prove to her, every single day of our lives, that she deserves the kind of love you were never capable of showing her.'
Maybe I was too harsh to judge his actions but I couldn't come up with any acceptable excuse to neglect and hurt your child like that, no matter what your problems are.
For your child—for Charlotte—the right answer would be to stay strong, get even stronger, no matter how tough things get.
The rest of the ride home, my head was full of the promises I still wanted to make but had no one to make them to.
Well, actually, the answer was simple because while I could track down every single surviving member of the Samuels' family and force my promises on them, my promises really only meant something to the woman I'm making them for.
So when I got back home, I sat in my office, looked at the sheet of a few generic sample vows the wedding coordinator had provided me with as guide, and wrote my own.
For my wife.
For Charlotte.
- B
***
So, how did you guys like it?
I think it's nice to see bits and pieces of Brandon that we never got to see in TMMM, of some of his actions that he'd done out of love and never because he wanted Charlotte to be audience to it. They both always have good intentions, as we all know, but I think we all know how those can be a bit like stray bullets. =)
Hope you have a good rest of the week!
To everyone in Canada, Happy Canada Day!
To everyone in the US, advanced Happy Fourth of July!
To everyone else, there's no need for a specific reason to celebrate—just do it! =)
XOXO,
Ninya
♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Everything by Lifehouse (acoustic cover by Boyce Avenue) ♪♪♪
Find me here,
And speak to me.
I want to feel you,
I need to hear you.
You are the light,
That's leading me,
To the place,
Where I find peace again.
You are the strength,
That keeps me walking.
You are the hope,
That keeps me trusting.
You are the light,
To my soul.
You are my purpose,
You're everything.
How can I stand here with you,
And not be moved by you?
Would you tell me,
How could it be,
Any better than this?
You calm the storms,
And you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands,
You won't let me fall.
You steal my heart,
And you take my breath away.
Would you take me in,
Take me deeper now.
You calm the storms,
And you give me rest.
You hold me in your hands,
You won't let me fall.
You steal my heart,
And you take my breath away.
Would you take me in,
Take me deeper now.
And how can I stand here with you,
Cause you're all I want,
You're all I need,
You're everything, everything.
You're all I want,
You're all I need,
You're everything, everything.