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"Okay," I murmur.
He tilts his head at me, and I look down at my phone, giving myself something to do, a way to act like this isn't killing me.
"Let me check on the baby," I murmur as I sit down at the island.
He hums, as if he is not buying it at all. But I just need to get through the remainder of my time with him. I just need to be okay until I can be alone and not be okay. We don't talk as he begins making whatever he's cooking. I keep my head down, pretending to be on my phone while I peek at him through my lashes, but quickly looking down every time he looks at me over his shoulder. He's clearly confused about why I'm suddenly acting like this, and I hate that I have to make him feel that way. But the alternative is blurting out that I love him and I have no idea what to do with that useless emotion right now.
"How's my nephew?" There's a teasing note in his voice.
It hurts to hear, that he's trying to make things alright, even though he has no idea what's wrong. He doesn't deserve this, my silence, the confusion, so I cast my heart and self-inflicted pain aside to be the Charlotte he's used to for just a little longer.
I look up at him, smirking as I say, "My nephew is just fine. Sophie said he's already pooped through his first outfit."
He laughs, most of the worry leaving his face. "Sounds like my kind of guy. Alright, tell me what you think of this."
He puts a plate in front of me, and I look at it in shock. "You made this just now? How?"
"I can't go telling you all my tricks."
"Well, you've certainly shown me a few of them."
Desire enters his eyes instantly, and damn if it doesn't make heat rush through me.
"Charlotte, Charlotte." He shakes his head. "Oh, the things you make me want to do."
I smile at him, but when he turns to make his own plate, I let my eyes close, allowing myself to acknowledge the pain his laughter and gray eyes are causing me for just a second. Then I swallow it once again and open my eyes. By the time he sits in the stool beside me and we begin eating, I can almost pretend I don't feel my heart shattering inside of me. Almost.
"Alright, I'm gonna take a quick shower, and then I'll take you to your house," he says once we're both finished. "Don't run out on me while I'm in there."
"I won't." I don't really know if I'm lying or not.
He gives me a look like he doesn't know whether to believe me either, and then rushes up the stairs. While he's in the shower, I text Sophie and Lexa in our group chat, wishing I could talk to them about everything going on inside of me. I need them to tell me I'm doing the right thing, need them to tell me I'm smart to cut this off before I hurt myself even more.
But I pretend well, as Jackson drives me to my house. I manage to make it into the shower before the tears begin to fall. They don’t have my permission to, but they won’t be withheld any longer. At least in here, I can pretend they’re just water falling down my cheeks. I wipe them away before turning the water off. Then take a deep breath, get out of the shower, and go into my room to get dressed. By the time I get back into the car, I look like a woman whose smile is real and heart isn’t breaking.Conversation comes easy while we head to the hospital, and then finally, gratefully, we're both getting out of the car.
"Give me your keys, and I'll handle this while you go see the baby," he tells me.
I hand him my keys and our fingers brush. Before I can think better of it, I clench his fingers in my grip. I hold it, knowing it will be the last time I'm able to touch him like this. His brows furrow, even as he smiles. Then, I let him go.
"Thank you," I say, him not knowing I'm not just thanking him for the car, but for everything.
"Of course," he replies.
I walk away, and only then, with him unable to see me, with my back to him, do I let a single tear fall. Hurrying to wipe it before I reach the security guard, I wave at him and continue on to the elevators. Letting my head fall back in exhaustion in so many ways, I ride up to the postpartum ward.
The smile doesn't need to be faked as I approach Sophie's room, and especially not once Shawn is in my arms. Jackson comes up a few minutes later, handing me my keys, and telling me my car should be fine now. Only Jackson knows that I slept in the arms of the man I love all day, so it's easy to use tiredness as an excuse to leave an hour later. Its only Jackson who watches me with disbelieving eyes as I say my goodbyes, but he doesn't say anything to stop me from leaving, or to ask me why. I hold my tears back as I head down the hallway, get into the elevator, and walk through the lobby. But by the time I reach my car, I lose my battle with them.
I start the car and take a deep breath as I look at the hospital, up toward the floor where a man stands, not even knowing he’s holding my broken heart in his hands. Then I close my eyes, try my best to shut out the pain, and drive away.
I don’t hear from him over the next four days, and although it doesn’t surprise me, it does reaffirm for me what I already know. The time we spent at his house was nothing. Me sleeping in his arms meant nothing. Our easy conversation and shared smiles, nothing. At least to him. We are nothing, and that’s the way it has to remain. The way it should have remained for me. And the four days of silence from him give me time to remind myself of how more much it will hurt later on if I don't end things now.
It's strange to think that before I wanted him to text me so badly, wanted him to call, and now I’m hoping he doesn’t, because I have no idea what I would say to him. I couldn't allow myself to reply to any text or pick up any of his calls, because I know I would break down and either tell him how I'm feeling or beg him to come over and fuck me one more time just to try and ignore what I'm feeling. Neither option is fair to him.
So, I do the responsible thing, the thing that’s hurting me like hell to do. I open a new message and begin typing one out to him. Only I don’t get many words down before my eyes are closing with the sneeze I feel coming. When Rebecca came into the office, with a red nose and nasally voice, three days ago, I'd accepted her excuse that it was just allergies. Well, I accepted it until I woke up sick two days ago, sneezing just like her, with a fever, and my body feeling like utter crap.
I wasn't able to be there when Sophie and Law brought Shawn home. I haven't been able to visit him or them, and I had given Sophie, Law, Lexa, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel explicit instructions not to come over here checking on me because I did not want to risk any of them getting sick and giving it to Shawn. I was just expecting them to pass that message on to Jackson too.
Opening my eyes, looking at my screen, I begin texting again, typing out the words he deserves to receive, the truth he deserves to know.
