The answer should have been obvious from the start, but like most things in life, people rarely saw what was under their very noses. I had always considered myself the exception to this rule, thinking that I was somehow a homosuperior in a world where girls lost themselves in order to gain someone else.
I need to talk to Xander.
Without preamble, when Xander opened the door and gaped to find me on his doorstep at an hour when I should have been fast asleep, I asked, "When did you know you wanted to marry Graeme?"
"I—" With a wild glance around him, like he still couldn't believe that I was there, he took a step away from the door. "Come in, Char."
"Thanks." I enter, noticing a flutter of nightgown inside Xander's bedroom.
A second later, Graeme's rumpled bedhead pops out of the doorway, her eyes going wide when she sees me. "Charlotte?" She disappears from view, but her disembodied voice calls out, "What's wrong?"
Xander shuts the door behind me. "Is it Wolf?"
My face cracks into a relieved smile. Trust Xander to get right to the heart of the matter. "Yes," I say, thankfully spared from saying more as Graeme emerges from the bedroom, a fluffy robe wrapped around her.
We may have called a truce, but I'm still nowhere near to the place where I can exchange girl talk with Graeme. There's still a sliver of self-preservation running through my veins and above all, the knowledge that the bond between Graeme and her brother is strong – maybe even stronger than my relationship with Xander.
There doesn't seem to be anything she doesn't share with Wolf, and yet, there are some things I will never tell Xander. Someone else would have wielded this power with impunity, but I still remember the girl who looked at me with terrified eyes, knowing that I held the ammunition to poke holes in her sails.
"Shall I make you guys tea?" asks Graeme, and even though I have spent so much of the last five years disliking her, affection washes over me.
Her eyes meet mine and the gentle honesty I see there takes me aback. Graeme won't push her way into this. She will make us tea and then she will make some excuse to leave, I realize.
There isn't a hint of jealousy in her face. Only sincerity.
"Yeah," says Xander, looking at me with worry. "That'd be great, babe." He motions to the sofa, a remnant of his bachelor days, a turd-brown monstrosity that I told him not to buy, but he insisted it would cover stains well.
I sink into the cushions and he sits next to me, our knees knocking. In the kitchen, Graeme bustles around humming to herself, only the soft clinks of ceramic cups and her off-tune rendition of Taylor Swift's latest song penetrating the silence.
"Things are complicated," I mumble to him.
His forehead creases and he leans forward, lowering his voice. "Charlotte, did something happen with Wolf after we left?"
I shake my head. "No. Nothing happened." A bitter laugh escapes my lips and my throat tightens. "He just said something that reinforced everything I've thought about him for years."
Xander nods in understanding, although he still doesn't understand, but I love him for trying. "Wolf, well, you know how he is."
That's the trouble – I do know how he is. "Yeah," I say. "And I know how I am, too."
That makes Xander sit up a bit straighter. "Does this have something to do with"—his eyes flick to Graeme—"what happened in the Netherlands?"
Now it's my turn to stiffen. "What do you think happened?" I ask, curious, scanning his face for any signs that he knows the truth.
He gives me a rueful smile. "I'm not as oblivious as you think, you know."
I cover his hand with my own. "I know that, Xand."
"Do you, though?" His eyes, kind, peer into mine like he thinks he can coax the words from me. "Ever since you and Wolfram started hanging out again, I've been unable to shake the feeling that there's something going on."
"It's all been pretty upfront." I nudge his knee with mine. "You helped us draw up the contracts, you know we didn't leave anything to chance. What could be going on?"
"Yeah," he says in a slow, measured voice. "I know what was written. But the emotions? Those are all between the lines."
I fall silent, not knowing what to say to his observation.
"It's okay." He bites his lower lip and places his other hand on top of mine, sandwiching me between his grip. "You don't have to say anything. Not to me."
I understand what he's trying to tell me. "You want me to tell him? How can I do that when even I don't know what I feel, what I want, what I—" I break off, seeing Graeme's frozen face behind Xander's head. A cup of steaming tea in each hand, she looks like she's trying to come to terms with something.
I offer her a faint smile, and seeing my attention drift, Xander cranes his head. "Thanks," he says, releasing my hand so he can accept the tea she mutely offers him.
"Thanks," I murmur, not meeting her eyes, unsure of how much she has heard.
She turns to go, and then, as if second-thinking her decision, she whips around. The intensity of her gaze makes my skin prickle and I glance at her, not knowing what that unidentifiable emotion in her eyes is.
"Xander," she says, and that one word encompasses it all. I'm sorry and please forgive me and thank you. The words are for me.
"Yeah?" Xander blows on his tea, looking with curiosity at his fiancée. He turns, angling himself against the armrest of the couch.
With dawning horror, I realize she's about to throw herself on her sword.
Her hands clench on the back of the couch until her knuckles go white. "About the Netherlands," Graeme begins to say, and before she can proceed, I blurt out, "It was a misunderstanding."
Her mouth snaps shut and her eyes flash fire at me. She misunderstands what I'm doing, I know, but it doesn't matter because I'm not trying to give her mercy or take away her courage. I'm giving us all a future by taking away the stigma of the past.
"You're right, Xand, there was something," I say, ignoring Graeme's mutinous expression. "But it was really silly, you know. It doesn't have anything to do with today."
"What was it?" Xander shifts his gaze between his fiancée and me, his lips pursed like he's unhappy with the fact that there's some secret only he was unaware of.
"Uh, well," I say, trying to inject some levity and humor into my words, "I guess Graeme and Wolf thought that there was something going on between you and me back then."
"What?" Xander's face relaxes and a relieved grin spreads over his face. He looks to Graeme for confirmation and when she gives him a tiny nod, he turns back to face me. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, and um, I guess that rubbed them the wrong way."
"You mean because Wolf liked you back then," Xander says, in a voice so matter-of-fact that both Graeme and I whip our heads to look at him.
"What?" I say, not recognizing the hollow quality of my voice.
Xander shrugs, reaching for Graeme's hand. At his insistent tug, he pulls her to perch on the armrest behind him. As her fingers play with his hair, he explains, "Yeah, he was really into you."
"Then why did—" Graeme stops herself before she throws Wolf under the bus.
"Did he tell you this?" I ask. "That he liked me?"
"Well, not exactly." Xander scrunched his nose. "But I could tell."
All of us fall silent, and the camaraderie of the moment is broken only when Graeme inches away from the couch. "I should let you guys talk," she says.
"Wait." I wait for regret to flood through me, but much to my surprise, it never comes. "Stay, Graeme."
"What?" She looks nervous, like it's a game. Like maybe I'm toying with her.
Even Xander looks surprised. It's no secret that Graeme and I don't really hang out, much less ask for each other's company.
"Um, stay."
"Stay?" she repeats, fiddling with her hands. Her eyes are swimming with something I've never seen before – gratitude.
"Yeah." I make sure to meet her eyes. "I want to talk to my friends. Both of them."
Author's Note: Another surprise update to apologize to everyone for being so remiss with this story! :) Hope you enjoy, and as always, I welcome feedback from you lovely readers :)