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“Fuck,” I say. “There was a time, if I’m being honest, when I didn’t think you’d ever change.”
“There was a time I knew I wouldn’t change,” he replies. “I still look back now and wonder how she did it.”
I watch him, genuine happiness spreading through me at the idea of him finding his own happiness. “Happens without even realising it sometimes, doesn’t it?”
Charlie turns to look at me, but I drop my eyes, thinking back.
“One day you’re telling her you want to take her on a date, and the next, you’re lying awake at night watching her sleep, wondering why a freckle on her cheek seems like the most sacred thing on earth.”
Or the rise and fall of her chest, as I count each beat of her heart, curious—desperate—for it to know me.
“You still love her.”
I lift my gaze to Charlie’s. “Without reason,” I tell him. “I mean, I can sit here and give you a million. But it’s more than the person she is, you know. Or the way she makes me feel. It’s more than words.”
“But you questioned her.” He gives me a hard look. “You asked her if she’d met someone else.”
I clench my fists at the idea. “Charlie, I wouldn’t know peace if she was with another man. But if she found hers, if she was truly happy… well then, I’d rot and wallow in the memories. In every freckle I memorised, every beat of her heart, and every fucking mason jar she’d fill with flowers for someone else. I’m pretty sure if she was happy—truly at peace, I’d be alright.”
“You’d be alright… if she was with another man.”
“Don’t.”
I hear him chuckle deep in his chest, his tall frame shaking slightly in the seat. “Are you planning on getting her back? Mason said you’ve not tried a thing.”
“She made it clear she didn’t want that. I’m Dad now. That’s it.”
“But… but what about the freckles?”
“Fuck you.”
He fights his smile. “I’m serious. What are you talking aboutyou’re Dad, and that’s it? You’re living in her house.”
“Because I didn’t have a single other fucker willing to help me.”
He throws me a hard stare. “Sure. So, the two of you haven’t had a single moment. A glance that’s lasted a second too long?”
I swallow and cast my gaze away, focusing on the road ahead.
“When was the last time you spent time alone with her?”
My mind instantly goes back to this morning, but it gets chased away by memories of last night. She’d sat beside the bath, her hands on my face, my hair—fucking everything I needed—coaxing me to sleep. And then this morning, as she sat up in the chair, her eyes tired, she didn’t so much as look at me as she slipped from the room before anyone would notice.
“She’s still in love with you. You do know that, don’t you?”
I frown, shaking my head instinctively. “How can she be after everything—even if she wanted to, I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. I’ve barely scratched the surface with her letters, but if the end is anything like the beginning, I’m pretty sure I’ll hate myself enough for the both of us by the time I’m done.”
“You don’t get to decide that. You’ve learnt nothing. Scarlet didn’t wait for you, but she didn’t move on either. She might’ve moved forward with life, her job and family, but she never left you behind. Not like you wanted.”
“It’s not what I wanted.” Not even a little bit. “But what sort of person asks that of someone? She was locked up in that house for years away from the real world. No matter how much she says she did it for Anthony, I knew what she needed. I watched her come back to life that summer. Saw her for what she was.”
“We all saw it,” Charlie agrees.
“I couldn’t have her go back to that. I needed her to live.”
He nods. “You know, when she found out she was pregnant, she was on cloud nine. It was as if she found her sparkle again.”
“When did she tell you?”
