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Her pregnancy or her car wreck? For being the same jerk his father had been? For not being able to give her the things she deserved?
He sank into a chair. “I’m not sure. I just don’t like this awkwardness.”
“You expected otherwise?”
“With us? Yes,” he admitted, raking his fingers through his hair. “I guess I do. You and I should never be awkward.”
“Why not?”
Another good question.
“Because of what we shared.” Which really didn’t make sense, even to his own ears. They were no longer a couple.
“What we shared no longer matters, Charlie. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
He understood what she was saying. She’d fancied herself in love with him. She was no longer under any false illusions, but that didn’t mean they had to be enemies.
“You will always matter to me, Savannah,” he admitted.
“Because of the baby?”
He thought for a moment. “The baby doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that what we had was special. You were special.”
Her lashes lowered as she looked away. “Not special enough.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m through with this conversation.” She tugged the blanket up around her and turned her head away from him. “None of this matters anymore, Charlie. Not to me.”
Frustrated, mostly with himself, Charlie sat in the chair and watched her, could tell the moment her tense body relaxed with sleep and she rolled back toward him. Still, he watched the rise and fall of the blanket, the peace that settled onto her bruised, swollen face.
A face that was more precious to him than any other.
A face that had haunted him.
He’d gotten so attached to Savannah that he’d recognized letting her go was going to be difficult. So he’d taken the decision out of his hands by doing something he’d known would upset her and make her push him away.
He’d purposely flubbed up his relationship with Savannah, making her hate him, because, deep down, he’d worried whether or not he’d be able to do right by her and walk away.
* * *
Savannah woke with a pressing need to go to the bathroom. Opening her eyes, it took her a moment to remember where she was.
Charlie’s apartment.
In Charlie’s living room. On Charlie’s sofa. With Charlie asleep in a chair a few feet away.
The soft rise and fall of his chest mesmerized her. She struggled to tear her gaze away from his relaxed body. Tears pricked her eyes. She’d never thought she’d see him sleeping again. Had never dreamed she’d be staying in his Nashville apartment, that he’d be taking care of her.
She still didn’t fully understand why she was here, why he was shifting his life around to accommodate her.
Guilt?
Probably.
Was that why he’d deeded her the house?
Why he’d volunteered to keep her at his apartment?
