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“Yeah.” She nods, wiping her sleeve across her face. “I’d like that.”

I watch her, and before I can stop the thought, I realize I would too…with her.

I sit forward, resting my forearms on my knees before looking back at her. I need to get this out of the way. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

She straightens in her chair, fingers curling around the armrest. “Yes?”

I adjust my glasses, searching for the right words. “While you’re here, I want to ensure you’re being taken care of. You’ve been through a lot. More than any woman should ever have to endure.” Her gaze drifts off toward the lake, and she bites down on her bottom lip as if fighting back tears. “So.” I clear my throat. “Scarlett had a difficult time last year.” I choose my words carefully, respecting a story that isn’t mine to tell. “She’s been seeing a therapist who specializes in survivors of sexual assault. And she told me it’s helped her more than anything else.”

Charlotte goes completely still.

“I just thought…” My voice softens. “Maybe having someone to talk to might help you too.”

Silence stretches between us.

Finally, she lowers her eyes to her lap. “I…” Her fingers twist together. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.” She shakes her head. “What I just told you is the most I’ve ever said to anyone about my marriage, but maybe that’s because I’ve never had anyone I…” She stops, closing her eyes while taking a deep breath. She rises from her chair. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

Panic settles heavily in my chest.

I stand with her, instinctively reaching for her arm. My fingertips barely circle her forearm before she pauses, looking over her shoulder.

There isn’t an ounce of fear in her eyes.

Only sadness.

And it’s breaking my fucking heart.

“I didn’t mean to push you,” I say quietly, immediately letting her go. “Or cross a line.”

She gives a small nod.

From my pocket, I pull out a folded piece of paper. “Here.” She hesitates before taking it. “It’s the doctor’s information.” I glance down at the paper between her fingers. “Call her. Don’t call her. Throw it away if you want.” I rake a hand through my hair, frustration building beneath my ribs. “I’m out of my depth here and…I only want to help. I only want to lessen the pain in your eyes.”

She finally looks at me. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Alex.”

The words only make me feel worse.

“I just…” My jaw tightens. “I fix problems. It’s what I do, and I hate knowing I can’t fix what’s been done to you.”

A sad smile touches her lips. “You can’t.” The honesty in those two words lands like a punch. “But,” she continues softly. “Thank you for wanting to.” She folds the paper once and slips it into the pocket of her cardigan. “I’ll think about it.” Then she turns and walks back inside.

I remain on the deck, staring in the direction she disappeared long after the door clicks shut.

The whiskey suddenly turns sour in my stomach. I drag both hands down my face and drop into my chair.

I should’ve waited.

Should’ve let her come to me when she was ready to.

For someone who’s spent years having every choice stolen from her, the last thing she needs is another person deciding what’s best for her.

I close my eyes, rubbing at the ache settling in the center of my chest.

I wanted to help.

But instead…

I think I pushed her further away.