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My buddies laugh and we chat a little more before I hang up.
They’re thousands of miles away in the Caribbean, so there’s no way for them to tell that I’m lying through my teeth when I say I’m looking after myself. I’m not exactly sure when last I had a decent meal and I haven’t slept well in over five days, but I still have to keep showing up every day.
I just have to show up.
I’m going through crazy photos of the pool party my buddies enjoyed last week in Trinidad & Tobago when someone knocks on my door.
“Come in,” I say, putting my tablet down.
Charlee.
Beautiful, stunning, not-happy Charlee.
The moment she walks through the door, the brewing headache that was getting ready to splice through my skull dissipates. Despite the pissed-off look on her face, Charlee never fails to have an instantly soothing effect on me.
I’ve seen an even more astounding side to Charlee that I don’t understand these days. She’s still not talking to me, but I’ve seen her having a hard time showing up for work with each passing day. She looks tired all the time, there are bags under her eyes, and she seems to have a shorter fuse. Charlee, one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, is actually snapping at interns and having zero patience for tardiness.
She looks like she’s really going through it.
I miss Charlee so much.
I miss being with her that way, merging body and soul and letting our spirits soar together. I can’t imagine even being with anyone else again. Charlee has eclipsed all of her gender, giving me a sexual experience that can never be replicated–where the attraction is pure and genuine. I miss the sound of her voice when her moans mix with soft cries. I miss the strain of her body when the pleasure becomes too much to contain. I miss those soft kisses afterward when she snuggles up and cuddles me with her boobs on my…
“Good morning, Harrison,” she says, dropping a pile of files on my desk and jolting me out of my thoughts.
“That’s the brief you asked for. A proposed re-ignition of all our current clients’ marketing campaigns. I’ve added some extra awareness layers in there to revamp their current strategies. We worked all weekend and we have this down for all of them. It should be finalized for presentation with your approval.”
She sounds so formal, almost robotic. Her eyes don’t meet mine as she speaks, and she doesn’t bother to sit.
“Charlee, this is some really solid effort. I must commend your work. Could you please sit down?” I don’t like how stressed she looks.
“No. I’ll come back when you’ve gone through the files. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.”
She turns to walk away.
“Charlee, please, give me a minute.” Before she can turn around again, I’m already around the desk to stand in front of her.
“Yes?” she mutters, still not meeting my eyes.
What is wrong with her these days? Where’s that shy but solid Charlee, easily embarrassed but still eager to connect? What’s going on with her?
Maybe she’s still upset about the unnecessary tension from the last time we talked. Or perhaps, our last argument.
“Charlee, hey, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry about the last time we spoke privately. I didn’t mean to upset you like that,” I reach out to touch her shoulder but she recoils instinctively, backing away from me.
That reaction pierces my heart and leaves a stinging strike. Does she hate me this much now?
“Harrison, there’s nothing to apologize for. It’s okay.” Charlee finally meets my eyes, and I’m not sure how I feel looking into her depths. I don’t see an angry woman but a scared one.
Charlee is vulnerable. I see a woman who’s terrified of something, and yet, she chooses to stay closed up. I want to hug her right now. I want to kiss her, not to satisfy my flaring sexual attraction to her but to let her know how safe and protected she is with me. I want to make all her problems go away. I want to make her happy and bring her some joy. I want to…
No. Ineedto pull down these walls she has so effectively built around her heart and let myself in.
“Charlee, I know things are hard for you. I don’t know what you’re going through, but I think it’s more than our general issue with the lawsuit. What is it? Tell me, I might be able to help.”
I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her again.
Charlee exhales, blinking rapidly, almost as if she’s fighting back heavy tears. She assumes her defensive posture, and I can tell she’s desperately trying to appear strong right now.
