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I came around the corner just in time to hear him laugh and say, “Come on, Charlotte, you don’t remember anything from that night? I didn’t give you that much, and you were begging for it after you took it.”
I reached then just as she pulled her arm back to hit him. I should have let her, but I didn’t want to witness it. “Stop.” I stepped around, letting her arm go, “You two might have some things you need to discuss, but here in the hospital is not the right place.”
I was ready to lose my shit, and the last thing I wanted to do was deal with his guys bullshit. When I told him again that they needed to talk later, he hissed toward her, “This is not over, Charlotte. I want to know the truth.”
I took a moment trying to calm myself, but it was no use. Taking my own advice, I pulled Charlotte into the first vacant room I could find and spun on her, “I’d like the truth too
“Wes—” She started, but then paused. Was she trying to come up with an excuse for her behavior?
“Save the bullshit, Charlotte. Is Tom Marisol’s father?”
“No, I mean—” I paused, and the next words were barely spoken, “I don’t know.”
The mornings' events had taken their toll on me, and I lost my cool accusing her of things I didn’t know anything about. Was she a user? Maybe she had been. Maybe she had slept with every guy in her college class, I had no clue. It was obvious when we’d had sex that she was eager, did she have sex with random men all the time? Suddenly another thought popped into my mind.
What if she’d had sex with me just to get pregnant? Was she trying to use me? I hadn’t used a condom, and if she had been with a lot of men, was she disease-free?
I was beyond able to listen, and I had to get away from her. “Save it, Charlotte. Obviously, you are not the person I thought you were. Your daughter is in the lounge with a nurse down the hall. I suggest you go get her and leave.”
“Wes, wait!” When she stomped her foot, I found it really funny. Although nothing of this situation was funny. I told her where to find Marisol and told her we were over. She was not the woman I thought she was, and I stormed out of the room. The shocked look on her face would forever haunt my dreams. Was it all an act? Had she even cared about me a little bit?
It no longer mattered. I rubbed my chest as I went in the opposite direction and wandered the halls for a while to make sure enough time had passed that she would be gone. Shit.
* * *
Friday finally arrived, and I was torn between going to my parents, and heading to the beach and running until I couldn’t walk anymore. I knew that if I didn’t show up at my parents, then there would be hell to pay. You had to have a major excuse not to show up for a family event, and my broken heart was not a major excuse—even if I thought it was.
When I arrived, I avoided my mom after saying a quick hello and made a general comment about Charlotte and Marisol not coming. I felt her eyes on my back as I’d walked away, but there was no way that I could admit that she had been right. There had been a major story about Marisol, and it was ugly and dark.
How had I missed that with Charlotte? How had I not seen through the sweet, naïve innocence to the woman that she really was? I got an email and checked my phone. It was my lab reports, and I glanced over the results. No signs of any STD’s. That was good. I’d hit the lab before I left work on Wednesday to make sure I didn’t have any. Who knows how many men she had slept with before me.
In this whole situation, it was Marisol that I felt the worse for. She was such a sweet child, and she sure didn’t deserve to be mistreated. She deserved castles and knights in shining armor on horses that could sweep her away.
I clenched my eyes and sighed. So lost in thought that I didn’t even hear my brother step up beside me at the paddock. “What happened?”
“What do you mean, what happened?”
He rolled his eyes, “With Charlotte. What happened with Charlotte?
I turned my face away, “Nothing.”
“Nothing, as in she didn’t want anything to happen, or as in something happened and you don’t want to talk about it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I growled.
“Yeah, well too bad. Something big must have happened. It was only a week ago that you were all over that woman.”
“She lied to me,” I told him as I faced him.
“Did she lie, or just not admit something? Those two are two very different things.”
“I asked her last week about Marisol’s father. She told me he wasn’t in the picture. Come to find out he wasn’t in the picture because he didn’t even know about Marisol.”
“Whoa. Why didn’t she tell him?”
“I don’t know, Brad.” I started to step away, and he stopped me, putting his hand on my chest.
“You don’t know because she wouldn’t tell you or because you were upset and didn’t want to listen?”
