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Charlie
Turns out leading a group of eight-year-olds on roller skates in the cupid shuffle isn’t enough to cheer me up. I can fake a smile, and I can look the part, but on the inside, I just want to go home and crawl into my bed.
After the song is over, I skate back to the front desk, where I pass out skates and sell glow sticks. When it’s quiet, I remember the two times Emerson came to the rink—the first time to shock the hell out of me, and the second time to shock me even more. I can still see him standing here, talking to Sophie and my mom, and it only makes me miss him more.
When the front door opens, I catch a glimpse of a man walking in, silhouetted by the sun behind him, so I can’t make out who it is. The body and gait of his steps is so familiar, my heart nearly stops in my chest.
He wouldn’t come here, would he?
But then the man walks in a little farther, and I make out those sandy brown curls and slightly thinner frame. What the hell isBeaudoing here?
He spots me behind the counter and gives me an awkward wave. Oh God…this is going to be awful. I haven’t exactly faced my ex-boyfriend since he found out I was screwing his dad.
As he approaches the counter, I sort of expect him to be irate and start ranting at me and calling me names, but he doesn’t.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
“Sorry to bother you at work. Do you have time for a break?”
“Umm…” I stammer. Getting yelled at by my ex isn’t exactly how I’d like to spend my break.
“I’m not mad,” he says, obviously reading my mind. “I just feel like we should talk.”
“Uhh…sure.” Turning away from him, I go back to the office where Shelley is working and ask her to cover while I’m on break, which she does. I take off my skates and slip into my slides. Then, I walk with Beau out to the parking lot. It’s early May, which means it’s warm, a little windy, and not a cloud in sight.
If there was any weather suitable for this conversation…I guess this is it.
When we reach his truck, he flips down the tailgate and I climb up. We used to do this a lot between shifts at work or for lunch. It makes me feel like the old me, not Charlotte, the girl who wore stilettos and played a sexy secretary for her boss.
Beau and I sit in silence for a few minutes.
Finally, he glances my way and says with a grimace, “Mydad,Charlie?”
Fuck this. I hop off the tailgate and start my march back to the front door. He calls after me before I can reach it. “I’m sorry, just come back.”
“I’m not going to spend my break getting guilt-tripped byyou.”
“I’m not guilt-tripping you!” he argues. “I just want to hear your side of the story.”
“My side?” I ask, spinning around. “Did you talk to him already?”
“Yeah. I just came from there.”
I’m frozen in place, asking myself if I want to hear what Emerson had to say. “No, I can’t hear it.”
“Charlie, come back. I’m serious. I’ll be nice.”
Before overthinking it, I turn around and walk slowly back to Beau. “So if you already talked to him, what do you want to hear from me?”
“I just want to make sure he didn’t…”
I watch as he stumbles over his words. “Didn’t what?”
“You know…force you into anything.”
My eyebrows pinch together as I stare at him in shock. Is he serious right now? “Force me?”
