Page 32 of One More Time

Grace sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Oh, yes, sorry. I will most certainly be giving him a very good talking to.’ She tried to shrug off her anger and bitter disappointment. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, to pick him up.’

‘Okay, no rush.’

The phone line went dead and as she put the receiver down, so did Grace’s heart.

* * *

Hungover, badly bruised, with thirty-two stiches across his chin and eighteen above his right eye, and now unemployed, Charlie was trying his best not to feel sorry for himself. He had no right, no right at all.

He knew he’d been dormant this past year, letting life pass him by in an alcohol-induced blur – if only he wasn’t so numb, so empty. He’d stupidly kept telling himself he would stop drinking, could stop whenever he chose. There was always tomorrow. But as always, tomorrow never came, and his every today brought renewed challenges.

This morning’s talk with Grace had started the ball rolling, but then he’d arrived at work only to be told he was being laid off due to lack of business … well, that had been the straw that had broken the camel’s back. He’d gone to Riley’s Ridge to contemplate his next move, to come up with a solution, but after downing almost a bottle of booze, he’d decided that ending his life would be the only way. His life insurance would help Grace raise Hope. His absence from their lives would be a blessing.

Thank god he’d had a last-second change of heart and grabbed hold of the branch. That had saved his life. And the old bloke who had come across him, and taken him to the hospital, he wouldn’t be able to thank him enough. Never would he tell Grace what his intentions had been; that was something he’d take to his grave.

‘I love you, Grace. You know that, right?’ Sitting across from her at the dining table, he watched as she pushed her food around with her fork. ‘I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.’ He was falling more in love with her as each second passed them by, but he knew the same could not be said for her. Nor could he blame her. Hell, even he didn’t love himself. ‘Please, say something, anything.’

Her body tensing further, she stared down at her plate and said nothing. Charlie could’ve cut the tension of the room with a knife. Thank goodness Jenny was minding Hope tonight. He didn’t want his baby girl seeing them like this.

‘I didn’t choose to get fired, nor did I deserve to be,’ he said, desperately trying to get her to see this was way out of his control. ‘I wish … I wish you could spend a day in my shoes and feel what I feel. No, I take that back, I wouldn’t wish you to feel like this, not ever.’

Again, she remained silent, but this time lifted her gaze to meet his.

‘I just constantly feel like I’m sitting in a deep dark hole and I don’t know how to get myself out of it.’ Charlie took a breath. ‘And now I’m unemployed. I’m an utter failure in every single way.’

He jumped as Grace smacked her fork down on the table. ‘Enough, Charlie!’

‘But Grace, I …’

‘I’ve tried to help you out of that damn hole, over and over and over again.’ She shot to her feet, her hands gripping the edge of the table. ‘You really are your own worst enemy, you know.’ Her gaze burned with such loathing, he was taken aback. ‘You have so much life around you, so much to be happy and thankful for, and yet you only focus on what you don’t have.’

Charlie regarded her, wanting, needing to understand her. ‘What do you mean, I only focus on what I don’t have?’

Grace pointed accusingly at him. ‘I know how much you regret leaving the army, way more than you’ve led me to believe over the years.’ Tearing up, she momentarily paused. ‘And I also know you resent me for it, deep down.’

‘That’s not true,’ Charlie insisted, even as he knew she was right. He just didn’t want to admit it, to her, or himself.

‘It’s the truth, and damn you for making your choice then making our lives hell because of it. I never asked you to leave. That was your decision.’

With that, she turned and stormed out of the dining room, the air of rage lingering in her wake.

Charlie sat in stunned silence. He’d never seen his loving wife so furious. He wanted to run after her, to hold her and tell her it was all going to be okay, but how could he bring comfort when he was the one causing her such deep anguish?

Grace was the very last person he wanted to hurt. Yet he was doing just that.

On his tenth piece of nicotine gum for the day, he could really murder a cigarette right now, but he’d promised Grace he would quit. And he’d broken enough promises. On the other side of the coin, he felt so much pressure to change so much about himself. Quitting felt like the defining quality of his life – quit the army, quit drinking, quit smoking, quit swearing. It was as if he had to quit being himself for Grace to be able to love him. A bubble of resentment rose, and he tried to fight the sensation off – he had no right feeling this way. He was being a fool, acting irrationally.

Damn it. He needed some fresh air. Now.

Storming through the kitchen, he skidded to a stop at the refrigerator door to admire the drawing Hope had made for him last week. Her swirls of colourful crayon helped to soothe the ache in his soul. His darling little girl was just like Grace, and his grandmother; so strong, much stronger than he’d ever be. He would not allow himself to turn out like his deadbeat father. Hope deserved a father to be proud of. He owed her that, and so much more.

He took a calming breath, followed by another. He couldn’t run from himself any longer. One step at a time, he was going to have to finally find a way to make this right.

His little girl needed him to be fully present and, most importantly, sober. He may not be able to do it for himself, and he might not measure up to what Grace expected from him as a husband, but the very least he could do was step up to his role as a father. He took a somewhat calming breath, followed by another. He couldn’t run from himself any longer. One step at a time, he was going to have to finally find a way to make this right.

CHAPTER

10