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ZANE
The only thing worse than making a mistake was doing it twice.
It was why I never fucked the same woman twice, never fought the same opponent twice, and never trusted the same person twice.
The first time was a mistake. But the second time became a characteristic weakness.
Yet here I was in bed with Charlotte again.
On the couch, to be more pedantic, with half my body hanging off it so she could lay more comfortably. And as I watched her while holding her in my arms, it wasn’t regret that was flashing through my mind.
It was peace, the kind I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The type someone felt when everything settled down after a big storm. I should be trying to find a way to justify this, to escape from this room. But here I was, staring into her beautiful face and wondering what the fuck just happened in the past hour that completely transformed my existence.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. I’d tried to be gentle during our fuck but knew some of the animalistic urges within me had peeked through. I couldn’t help it. She was just too sweet, and it was hard not to devour her in one bite.
Charlotte nodded and sighed into my chest. “That was great,” she murmured, and it was such a simple statement that I almost snorted. Of course. Only she would summarize everything that had happened here so succinctly.
An act of mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex.
And I wanted more of it. Desperately.
It was just as I thought. Charlotte could become highly addictive, and the more I let her seep into my soul, the harder it would be to cut the habit when it came time to leave. So I couldn’t let myself have more. There was a reason I told myself to stay away from her, and I now reminded myself of what it was.
Death followed me everywhere.
That very thought threatened the after-sex bliss. In fact, it had tortured me for most of the day.
I knew death followed me around. First, it was my parents, then Toby. Then my wife. If I were a superstitious man, I would say I was cursed, and if that were true, then I didn’t want any of it touching her.
Nor did I want it on my son.
Today had been spent fighting a lot of inner demons, and I didn’t want Casey and Charlotte to be around that. It was why I’d sent her the message earlier today after battling with myself all week. I knew I needed to stay away from them. I just didn’t expect that it would hurt me so much to do so.
I had been looking forward to seeing them today. The anticipation of seeing my son’s cheerful face and hearing Charlotte’s witty mouth was the only light in my week, and canceling on them literally made me feel like ripping my hair out.
But I told myself it wasn’t like I had much to offer the boy anyways. He was probably better off without me. All I knew how to do was fight. I didn’t know how to raise a child or talk about feelings.
Sure, I could offer him all the financial support he needed, and he would want for nothing.
But I didn’t want to drag him—a boy who only had the bad luck of being born as my child—into my world of darkness.
Suddenly, Charlotte jerked up, distracting me from my musing. “Crap crap crap.”
“What is it?” I asked, but she didn’t answer. She was too busy jumping off the couch and running to where her bag had dropped on the kitchen floor. She rustled through it frantically, finally pulling her phone out.
“Shit, it’s dead,” she announced and then glanced at me. “Do you have a charger?”
I nodded and gestured toward a socket in the corner. She instantly spotted the charger and headed toward it, plugging in her iPhone. I saw her sit by the charger, anxiously waiting for her phone to turn back on. I felt her anxiety bubble through her as she waited.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I left Casey at home alone and told him I would be back in an hour.” She glanced at the clock across the room and winced. “It’s been a little bit more than that.”
“Where are your parents?”
“They went to a friend’s house for dinner,” she replied.
