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“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”
I started to protest, but the overwhelming desire to not fail Charlotte was stronger than my despair. Was it possible I could continue? I’d already been to the brink of failure so many times, it felt like I lived there. I thought of the rest of the tour: Copenhagen, Warsaw, and Prague, then Germany, and finally Austria… Christ, could I make it through Poland or the Czech Republic where the language barrier would be even wider? Every disadvantage weighed a thousand pounds, and I was already so goddamn tired…
“Let me help. I’ll take care of everything.” Marit rested her hand on my arm and said gently, “If I were Charlotte, I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
“God, I hope that’s still true.”
I won’t give up, baby. I promise.
I mentally braced myself for the next few weeks and heaved a steadying breath.“Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”
I told Lucien to wire money from my savings so Marit could get me a new phone, and to figure out how to send me new credit cards. He sounded dubious at first, but his desire for me to succeed was just as strong as mine.
“I shall do my best.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me to be more careful?” I asked dryly. “You should. Clearly, I need to hear it again.”
“I am not in the habit of blaming victims for the crimes perpetrated against them…” I could hear Lucien smile slyly. “Though I would ask that you choose your friends a little more wisely.”
I listened to Marit bustle around behind me, laying my suit on the bed. “That, I can do. And Lucien?”
“Yes?”
“Tell Charlotte…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence, but I didn’t have to.
“I will tell Charlotte you are safe so long as you call me each night—and I do mean every night—to tell me that’s still true.”
My throat tightened. “Deal.” I got off the phone with Lucien and swiveled in my chair. “You’re not going to get in trouble for missing work?”
“I never miss work. Ever. I go in early, stay late.” Marit’s voice quieted. “It might be nice to take a day off.”
“Good,” I said. “Then let me take you to dinner too. As a thank you.”
“You’re up for going out to dinner?”
“Rule #2: No holing up in hotels.”
“Okay, well…yes. Dinner would be nice,” she said, and I tracked her moving around the room to gather her purse and keys. “You need a shower—rather urgently—and then a nap. And I have errands to run. I’ll just…okay. Be back soon.”
The door shut and I was suddenly alone with my almost-failure. I had been at the edge—again—and had been hauled back from the fall.
“For the last fucking time,” I muttered as I stepped into the shower. The warm water seemed to wash last night off me, and I felt good. Better. Almost like myself.
How is that possible? You don’t know what ‘yourself’ is.
That was true. The accident had forever altered me. Smashed me up and rearranged all my parts so that I couldn’t sort them out. I was blind. That was the only truth I had, and it had become my identity more than my own name.
And that was a fucking terrible way to live.
I stood in the shower until the water ran cool. Cool like the rainwater I’d felt on Charlotte’s skin that night in New York City when I’d disappeared on her and she’d searched for me in a storm.
“You deserve more than what’s left of me.”
“There’s so much.”
Even then, Charlotte had seen what I couldn’t. And right then, under the falling water that felt like rain, I allowed myself to think that maybe she was right.
Marit found an agency with services for the blind. She procured a new white cane and a pair of sunglasses while I napped. I was putting on my suit when she returned, and I heard her suck in a small breath.
