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Batman: You know we’ve got something good, Charlie. You even said it yourself in your office on Thursday. You know where to find me. I love you, Charlie Mason. I want you to be my wife, don’t ever doubt that.
What the fuck? So, the day after I fought with her, she runs to him. Again. I can’t stop myself, I go into her messages, reading the trail of their conversation.
Batman: Happy birthday, gorgeous. Sorry, I can’t make dinner tonight, but I’ll be free afterward The bat cave is ready… and so am I, baby. I just want to taste you again, feel myself inside you. Stay over and just maybe you’ll get breakfast in bed, just the way you like it.
I sit on the edge of the bed, bowing my head while clutching the phone. My heart is racing, rage pulsing through my veins.
Is she still fucking him?
I want to shake her, wake her up, and demand she answer.
It isn’t only the anger taking over me, it’s the jealousy that he touched her, he’d been inside her, and he gets to wake up with her. Something we have never experienced.
Even back in the day, we were always trying to be discreet. Not once did I have the honor to hold her in my arms all night and wake up beside her. This becomes too much for me to handle. I’m not thinking rationally, raw emotions controlling me, and I need to leave before the damage becomes irreversible.
I stand up to walk away as she slurs her words.
“Lex, I love you… please don’t leave us.”
Us, there’s that word again. I love you. How I’ve longed to hear those words come out of her mouth.
I want it to be real, desperately needing her eyes to connect with mine when she says the words my heart needs to hear again.
With my shoulders fallen, defeated by the long night, I decide to leave the room but stop inside the living area. It’s a cozy room with a ton of books on the shelves and a wall filled with frames. I walk over and look at each picture. She looks happy in every one of them, not like the miserable girl I supposedly left behind.
There’s one black and white photograph capturing my interest. She’s laying her head on the lap of an older lady, sitting on a porch swing. Charlotte is covered with one of those homemade crocheted blankets. She appears gaunt, her eyes almost black, but there’s a hint of a smile. The older lady rests her hand on her cheek. It must be her grandmother she spoke about.
And just one look at this picture cements the damage I caused. I failed us as she put it.
I’m an idiot to think we could’ve so easily gone back to the way things were.
I’ll never stop wanting Charlotte, but I don’t know how to fix us. For now, I need a break to clear my head and think about the right way to make us one again.
There’s no doubt that being around her causes a massive problem—we either argue, or I fuck her. And neither one of those things gets us any closer to a resolution.
I close the door behind me, leaving her apartment, my head riddled with guilt.
Back at the hotel, I finish the bottle of Jack Daniels, unsteadily opening another bottle, knowing the addiction of the drink will land me in serious trouble.
The guilt now turns into resentment, and anger rises within me like a tide.
With my phone in hand I call Bryce, excusing my call in the middle of the night, willing he’ll dig up some dirt for me.
“Are you sure, Mr. Edwards?”
With my chest tight and vision compromised from the hard liquor seeping through my veins, I stare at the blank wall, my lips curving upward into a satisfied smirk.
I want Julian gone.
And now, there’s no stopping me.
CHARLIE
Nine Years Ago
“Okay, sorry, I promise I’m listening now. So, who’s going to the concert tonight?”
I hadn’t spoken to him despite his numerous attempts to contact me. His desperation to explain what Adriana saw was evident in every text message he sent.
