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She coughed at the change of subject, looking away. “Yeah, I do that too.”
“Why?” I asked. She worked here full-time, not to mention the fact that she also took care of her parents and Casey when she got home. When did she have time for herself?
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “I enjoy being busy.” She gave me a little smile that showed a hint of a crinkle at the end of her lips and nose. It was adorable, her eyes glowing with life and joy. It was not the obnoxious type of happiness that was all in your face but true joy and satisfaction with her lot in life—something I hadn’t found even as I grew my bank account from nickels to millions.
I still hadn’t gotten rid of the gnawing hunger inside my belly. Maybe, inside, I was still the poor little kid who didn’t have two dimes to rub together. But it was probably for the best. The lack of satisfaction was what kept me working so damn hard.
Because if I stopped to consider it, I would finally have to face how fucking empty my life is.
It was funny how when I didn’t have any money, I thought finally making it would make me happy. I thought I would be satisfied once I was a baller, never going hungry or having to beat a motherfucker into pulp for food.
But now I had all that, and I still wasn’t half as happy as she was.
Neither was her sister.
Kelly’s lightness was one of the things that attracted me to her at first, but I soon found out after our wedding that it wasn’t real. It must not have been because once we got married, it slowly disappeared and transformed into apprehension. I never understood her fear. I’d never so much as raised my voice at her and never showed her the violent parts of me. I kept her away from it all. I treated her like spun silver, but she still looked at me in fear.
So why had she stayed with me for so long?
Until the day she ran away from me and left me that letter, I never had any idea that anything was wrong. I was giving her space, trying to make her less scared of me, but she left me anyway.
I never thought about it much, but it shattered something inside me. The fact that, despite everything, she couldn’t trust me was a crawling loss in my chest.
“Zane?” Charlotte was staring at me, probably because I had been quiet for a while. Her eyes were a combination of concern and curiosity. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. No one had asked me that question before, not with a genuine intention of getting an answer. They usually asked because they wanted something from me or, in Kelly’s case, wanted to know if I would explode. The only person I’d met who had such a similar heart to Charlotte was Toby.
Fuck, why did I have to remember Toby at this time? The atmosphere cracked and broke, and I got up abruptly and set her aside.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
I shook my head without answering. My throat suddenly felt tight at the thought and image of Toby. Why the fuck would I compare Charlotte to him? Pure hearted? What a joke. Charlie kept my child from me out of spite. There was nothing fucking pure-hearted about that.
“Stay here,” I said. “I’ll call a doctor.”
She shook her head, her eyes widening. “I told you I can’t afford one.”
“And I didn’t ask you to,” I said, whipping out my phone to place the call. I saw that I’d received a text from an unknown number, but I didn’t read it. It was either a sales call or some chick Meech had given my number to. Either way, if I didn’t have them saved on my phone, they weren’t important.
Dr. Silvano was one of Meech’s old college friends, and I was sure the man wouldn’t mind making a quick office visit.
“You’re making him come here?” she asked.
“Yes. It saves time.” I went back to my desk after making the call. I needed to get started on work. “Don’t worry about the cost. It’s covered under our new insurance.”
“There’s a new insurance?”
There is now. “Yeah,” I said, making a mental note to do that later.
I tried not to watch her for the rest of the visit, even as Dr. Silvano saw her and told her the same thing I did, which was to stay off her fucking feet. He advised that she go home for the rest of the day, and while Charlotte tried to be stubborn again, I already expected it.
“I don’t think I need to go home,” she said insistently. “It’s just…I don’t want anyone thinking I’m getting special treatment—”
“Tell them they can break their own ankles, and I’ll send them home, too,” I cut her off, irritated. She could probably sense that I was getting to the end of my rope because she didn’t protest anymore.
The whole time, I didn’t touch her. It was a feat that should have branded me as a fucking saint with the amount of effort it took.
When I got home, I heard my phone ding again. It was from the same number that texted me back in the office.
