"Let's go to the garden." Charlie suggested, his voice coming from his office while I was on the couch in his living room, all my thoughts killing me slowly at remembering how she looked curled up on the couch. I hated myself for continuing to think about it, when it was stupid of me to do so. I already knew he didn't have any feelings for her, but just the thought of his hands on someone else bothered me.
Then there I was sleeping with another man before while being with him. I was so hypocritical.
"Okay." I answered him back, and saw as he came out with this look. I felt screwed at how obvious I could be. That annoying man knew just by my voice, I wondered how the hell that was possible.
"What's wrong?" He asked, walking into the living room where I sat and looked up at him, feeling busted.
Before I could open my mouth to speak, he began with that knowing tone of his, "And don't you dare say nothing." He demanded.
I sat up, feeling completely defeated and let out a large breath, not realizing I was about to cry. But soon enough, I sat there, looking down at my hands with tears spilling down my face as my shoulders shook. He ran over to me.
"What- what is it?" He asked in quick worry, and I heard the desperation in his voice. That's what hurt me as well, knowing that I had done this to him. I had made him paranoid at the thought of me leaving again. "Why are you crying?" His questions came out quickly. "Please don't cry."
"I'm so sorry." I childishly sobbed out, sounding like a child who was about to confess a bad thing. But he knew what I had done. He knew a long time ago, and he called me a whore for it.
I was the most hypocritical person for feeling so much pain at the thought of him touching someone else- even if he didn't have any feelings for her. Then I was also with someone else, but for months, while being with him. He said he loved me, I couldn't imagine how much I'd hurt him.
"What-" He began in confusion, but I whimpered out another apology and he wrapped his arms around me. "I forgive you. I've told you before."
I kept crying, wishing he'd stop saying that. I wished he was still angry, part of me did, because I just wanted to feel what I deserved. Even if he forgave me, I couldn't find it in me to forgive myself. And the reminder of that was the pain of thinking of Charlie with someone else. "Did you kiss her, Charlie?" I hated how vulnerable I sounded, and I didn't want him to feel bad, because I knew he would. He shouldn't either, because I was the one who did all wrong.
He squeezed me tighter, burying his face in my neck. He said nothing, and I knew he had. It made me squeeze him back, and I asked him, "Did you sleep with her?"
He didn't say anything, and I already had my answer. So I nearly cried my eyes out. "I'm sorry." I said again, this time in a whisper.
"I'm sorry," He said, and I hit his arm.
"Stop being sorry." I sobbed. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I yelled at you," He said, kissing my shoulder, in the spot where I think my dimples were. "I called you names," His hands rubbed comfortable circles at my sides as he went on, "I was with another woman," Hearing him say that made me cry harder, and he removed a hand from my side to wipe my tears, "I tried to hate you."
I knew then that for a fact, he was angry with himself. "Diana, I should be sorry for a lot of things." He sighed. "I hate seeing you like this," I felt his fingers catch the fresh tears that continued to spill from my eyes, "Come on, smile for me."
I couldn't find it in me to do it.
"I'm sorry." I whispered, it being the only thing I could say.
"I'm sorry." He said again.
I shook my head, even if he was telling the truth, I was still so regretful. And I deserved to be. There were so many reasons for me to be sorry. "Please," He said, turning me to face him. "I forgive you. Do you forgive me?"
I nodded immediately.
"Do you forgive yourself?"
He knows.
Again, I cried harder. "If I'm forgiven, you should be, too."
"I hurt you." I said sadly.
"But I don't hurt now." He stopped talking for a while, and there was something in him as he tilted my chin up to look in my eyes. "Did you love him?"
"Did you love him?"
I held my breath and couldn't bare to look back at his stare. Andy had asked me the same thing, and it wasn't as hard as it was then, because I did truly love Andy, only I loved Charlie more.
I heard as Charlie sharply sucked air in shock. "You did." He said hard.
I prayed he wouldn't be angry. He wasn't, he only did the opposite Andy did, and let go of me. I told myself to stop crying and covered my face, trying to relax my strained and blurred eyes.
Charlie stood up and faced away from me. "Did-" He stopped himself, not saying anything and I couldn't take it.
"What?" I asked, sounding so childish. "Tell me,"
"Did you love him more than me?"
There was a question I was proud to answer honestly. I stood up and planted my feet in front of him, taking my hands and lacing them through his. "There is no other man alive I love more than you." It was nothing but the truth then, my father wasn't alive. Charlie understood that. He stared back at me and I feared it wouldn't be enough.
He kissed me.
Oh the desperation was nothing like it was before, and I returned it with just the same.
It was the first time we made love.
...
"Diana??" I heard as Charlie called my name from his bedroom. There was worry and panic etched in his croaky voice.
I knew he had woken up, seeing me gone from beside his bed. I didn't seem to understand then how much of a scare it'd be for him to wake up without me in bed with him.
I was in his library, going through the books. I hadn't been able to stay asleep. There seemed like so much going on in my mind, it was like I told myself there was too much to think about to sleep. My eyes were exhausted.
He called my name again, and I heard as his heavy steps walked from the hallway to the livingroom. I peeked out from his office and met his panicked brown eyes. We locked gazes and his shoulders loosened in what seemed like relief. "You're so annoying." He sighed, sitting down on the couch and holding his head.
I left the room to sit by him. "What did I do?" I asked in confusion, knowing he was joking. Only it was his exhausted tone that caught my worry. He almost seemed to have aged in the middle of the night.
He looked up from his hands and gave me such an intense and loving look, it made me a little sad. "You left me again." Charlie said lowly, his head lowering.
A wash of guilt coated my skin and I reached out to bring his head into me. He breathed deeply against my shoulder. "No I didn't, I'm still here, Charlie. I won't leave." I assured, and for the first time ever, Charlie cried into me.
I felt as he began to lightly shake, and his hands clawed me desperately, and the warmth of his tears soaked through my shirt. I heard as he sucked in air and released it with a soft groan. His sniffling was audible.
I hugged him tightly, trying to comfort him like he did with me, and it was so hard to stay strong while holding him, because listening to his agony reminded me of my own. I shushed him gently, running my fingers through his hair. "I'm here," I said soothingly. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
"Say it again," He muffled into me.
"I promise I'll never leave you." I said in his ear and he continued to cry. It was around three in the morning, and he was up out of nowhere. We were falling apart.
"You know," He began after a calm silence that contained his sniffling. "It scares me how much I need you." He lifted his head and I beat him to it by wiping his tears. Hearing words like those from him just sounded so wrong. He never would have said something like that before, and suddenly after a death and a few tears, we were closer. "I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life." Charlie told me, this time taking my face.
"I'm-" I was going to apologize.
"When you left," A breath of pain blew out from him and it hit me nearly just as hard. "It was the worst feeling I've ever felt. I'll do anything to avoid feeling like that again." He said, hugging me once more and comfortably nuzzling his nose at my hair.
He hugged me tight, and I knew how he felt, but I just needed the same closure. "Say you won't leave me either."
Desperation was no longer something we hid from eachother.
"What-" He began, looking back at me in disbelief.
"I just want to hear you say it."
He pecked my lips. "I'll never leave you." I leaned back and allowed him to hover over me. "Ever." He kissed my lips again.
"Tell me you love me." I nagged, tugging on his hair as his kisses lowered.
"I love you so much."
"You do," I whispered in amazement, feelings his warm lips at my collarbone.
"I do." His hand laced through mine, and I felt the most comfortable wave of nostalgia.
This was it, though. I was in love. Someone I loved so much- I almost lost who I was, he actually loved me back. And I loved seeing that in his eyes.
Finally, I was comfortable in his arms and asleep, and time passed to eleven in the morning. He left and came back with breakfast then made coffee. I just sat and leaned on the back of the couch, watching him set everything up. He looked like a mess. But a beautiful mess.
I was positive I didn't look any better.
When his eyes met mine he nodded me over. I just continued to watch him, energy drained, until he came over to me and pulled me up. "You look horrible." I said to him.
He drew me closer, his hands on my butt. "You look worse." He joked, and it was enough to make me smile.
We sat down together and he bugged me enough times to convince me to force the food down. I felt too sick to eat, but he helped me through that.
Past midday, his phone rang and he ignored it a couple times, until I groaned at him to answer the damn thing. He did.
I could hear the voice on the other end quite clearly in his close-to-silent apartment. "Chance, oh god, finally you've picked up, Diana's missing."
I felt heat rush to my face at the sound of Austin's voice, and Charlie looked at me. "Uh, I'm sorry...?-" He began, as if asking why my brother would call to speak to him about that.
"You had her in your class yesterday, right? Was she there? Was she okay?" He bugged, and I watched the man in front of me rub his face slowly.
"She seemed okay to me." He said with that same dull tone, and I knew I would have to hurry home. I showered while he was on the phone.
When I came out, he was sitting down at the desk in his livingroom, glasses on and stressingly looking down at papers in his hands. He looked up and we met gazes, him slipping off his glasses in unfortunate anticipation.
"You have to go back." He said for me.
I nodded sadly.
He didn't say anything for a while, and looked back down at the papers in front of him. "Are you gonna sleep there?" He finally spoke, beginning to sound more himself in his blunt curiosity. I didn't realize how much I missed that plain tone of his.
I shrugged. "I'll call you."
But then there came that look of fear in his eyes; the flash of worry that began to worry myself just watching him like that. His head ducked down to look at his lap for a second, as if knowing I'd catch his eyes and trying to hide the pain. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I was still so weak about it. Intimidated. I knew our relationship was suddenly so delicate, and fragile, and I felt it was too soon for me to throw things about like that. We had just glued the pieces back together, but it hadn't completely dried yet. It was still way too soon for us to hold onto it when it could break any second.
Charlie looked back up at me. "If you don't call, I will." He said boldly, and I gave him a smile.
I wanted to embrace him. To kiss him, and to hang off him with our arms around eachother- our lips the connection that was reluctant to be broken. But I felt I shouldn't, and I don't know why.
So I took my bag and walked to his door, leaving without another word, feeling his eyes walk me out.