Choosing You (Gravity Hill #3)

32. Chapter 29

C harlie’s words make me pause. She lost her mother at fifteen and now at… Fuck I don’t actually know how old she is.

“How old are you?” I ask tactlessly. She doesn’t seem much older than us, but I’m not the best judge of age.

Her brows dip, and she mumbles, “Twenty-one, did you hear anything I said?”

Twenty-one, she’s had six years to process the loss of her mother. I’ve only had two. “Do you remember the way she sounds?”

She nods, her eyes gloss over, and her lips pinch. “For the longest time, I thought if I wasn’t sad, I would lose everything I loved about her that I could remember.”

Mulling her words over in my brain, she gives me the silence to think, and my lips turn down.

“It wasn’t true, Pretty Boy. I remember how she smelled when I had a really bad day and needed a hug. I remember the way she talked me through my first period. The way she held my face and told me that no matter what my body looked like, I was worthy of an epic love story.”

I look out the windshield, allowing her words to sink further into my brain. I know she believes what she’s telling me. That she’s happy but misses her mom. That she can be sad but chooses to remember the better times instead of her death.

“How did you forgive him?”

Her face morphs into a blank stare as if she can see the moment she became a new person–one without a mother or a father.

“I haven’t,” her voice is calm, much calmer than she looks on the outside. “I’m going to repay the favor he gave her when he murdered her.”

“What–” I start to ask.

“We’re not talking about this anymore. I just wanted you to know there’s always a choice, even through tragedy.”

She opens the door and steps out, leaving me in the car, reeling from her words. She plans to kill her dad, which means the bullshit plan she has going is either a cover or a ruse to play the doting daughter.

Deciding to let this drop for now, I get out of the Audi and click the locks. I parked in Manson’s little lot for his patients to use. Since it’s Saturday, I don’t think he’ll mind.

Charlie leans against the car, arms crossed, eyes unfocused.

“I’ll give you today to sort your shit out in your head, but after that, you and I are going to talk about this plan you have before you go and get yourself killed in the process.”

A ghost of a smile brightens her features, and she nods, coming to stand beside me.

“Where to, Pretty Boy?”

I offer my arm, and she takes it with an eye roll, matching my pace, we head up to the bookstore below Manson’s office. It’s a cool place, especially for Manson’s clients, to recharge after an appointment or to wait before their appointment. I know Theo doesn’t mind the business.

He’s a slim guy, always wearing a sweater vest, even in the summer.

“Oh, hi,” he says as we make our way through the store. Charlie eyes different things but doesn’t stop to look further.

“Hi, Theo,” I acknowledge him as we head out the door.

Charlie steps out of the door and looks around, taking everything in. I figure I’d show her the few shops we frequent and end at Fern and Flourished. Her eyes fall on the salon, and she looks at me with a questioning brow.

“That’s an interesting name for a salon,” she comments. “Curl Up and Dye.”

Hearing it out loud does make it sound a bit wild, “You should meet the owner, Becca. She’s an interesting person.”

“Funny you should say that,” Charlie smirks. “I could use some pampering.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I can’t promise they have anything available. Becca and her stylist get booked up pretty quick, especially around the holidays.”

She shrugs and heads across the street without looking both ways right as a car zips around the corner toward her. Racing after her, I bundle her up in my arms and pull her back just in time for the car to squeal its tires and stop.

They roll down the window, but one look at my stormy expression makes them go slack-jawed and peel away.

“Would you please look both ways before crossing a road next time?” I scoff as she wiggles out of my arms.

“You could have let me get hit,” she quips with a smirk.

“You– You knew the car was coming…” The audacity in this one, “Testing me to see if I’d what, let you die?”

I’m not so far gone that I’d let anyone die on purpose. Not even my future wife.

Becca fawned over Charlie, chastised me for not coming to see her sooner, and asked about Henry. Overall, it was not the experience I’d hoped for, but I gave her the semi truth, he was enjoying college and decided not to come home this weekend.

Charlie ended up getting blue highlights put into her long black hair and had her eyebrows waxed. I let Becca trim my hair and style it into a more appropriate style since it’s grown out .

Whatever that means.

We stopped in at Thimble, where Charlie tried on the whole fucking store and bought damn near everything she tried on. I had to ask Shelly if she would deliver it all to the house. She

said her wife and son would help and not to worry about it.

Now, we’re walking down the sidewalk in silence while the sun is starting to set. Charlie’s hand is wrapped around mine, but I don’t mind the contact. It’s cold, and her hand is warm, plus, if anyone were to report back to her father, it looks like we’re a couple having fun in a new place.

The lights strung around town light up, and Charlie stops. Tilting her head up, she looks like a child who’s just seen Santa. The flickering yellow bulbs reflect in her green eyes, and her nose turns pink.

“This is beautiful,” she says, eyes still transfixed on the lights.

“I guess,” I murmur, apologizing to the people on the sidewalk who have to go around us. Pulling her along behind me, we head to Fern and Flourished, where the window display has changed to look festive. Pumpkins, bats, and cartoon ghosts decorate the glass, along with a spiderweb near the door.

“It smells delicious in here,” Charlie breathes when I finally get her through the door.

“Why thank you,” Candy says by way of greeting. “You must be Charlie.”

Charlie looks at me, and I forget that I never mentioned Candy or how she would know her. “Charlie, this is Candy, Fern’s best friend and sister-in-law.”

“Not in that order,” Manson says from behind the counter. I didn’t notice him standing there at first. Distracted by the way the smell in here reminds me of Henry and how often I’d find him in the kitchen baking something with Fern and trying new flavors.

“And this is Manson, Fern’s brother,” I introduce him, and he nods at Charlie.

“Fern’s in the back. Did you need her?” Candy asks, hooking a thumb over her shoulder.

“No, I came to let Charlie have a taste of Gravity Hill, and this is our last stop.”

I guess Fern hasn’t had a chance to tell Candy about last night, but the way Manson is looking at me, Creed definitely told him.

“I thought Manson was the therapist?” Charlie eyes them both, and Candy loops an arm around his side. His arm automatically comes around her shoulders, and he squeezes.

“He is,” Candy laughs, “but we’re short-staffed today, so husband duty has been called in.”

He kisses her temple and says something that makes her giggle while envy surges through my body. I want that… I had that with Henry. And now, I have two friends that hate me, their girlfriends also hate me, my dad’s disappointed, and who knows how Creed feels.

Charlie and Candy are lost to conversation as I stand here fuming over imploding my fucking life. I can’t even blame anyone, I’d hate me too, with all the shit I’ve done.

“Are those gingerbread cookies?” Charlie’s words pull me straight from my thoughts right as the smell hits me.

“Is that Henry’s recipe?” My tone comes out accusatory, and I clear my throat to hopefully disguise the blunder.

Charlie doesn’t miss it though, her smirk is evident.

“It is! Best seller too,” Fern says, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh tray of them despite it only being October. The cookies are so well loved that Fern decided to make it a year-round treat. The bell above the door chimes, and a couple walks in with two small children, both of whom are screaming for cookies.

Henry would love them. He would grab two cookies, get down on a knee to hand them over, and then watch in anticipation of their reaction, silently praying they loved them.

I hate that all I can think about is him when I’ve spent all day with Charlie.

“Banks,” Charlie chuckles, “are you getting anything?”

“Well, that depends on how sorry he is,” Fern says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Candy takes the family's order at the end of the counter while Fern and Manson continue giving me their hard stares. Taking a few steps so I’m at the counter beside Charlie, I return their looks.

“Not sorry enough,” I scoff, and Charlie elbows me. “Sorry for starting a fight in your house.”

Fern’s head drops and she shakes it, tendrils of her hair escape the bun on top of her head with the movement. When she looks back up, her face is twisted. “I understand why you did what you did. And I love you so much for what you did to save me,” her eyes slide to Charlie and back to me. “But you’ve got to stop blowing up your relationships with everyone over it.”

“I’ll just…” Charlie says, pointing toward a table near the window.

“I can’t let you get hurt again, Fern,” I let her hear the conviction in my voice. She has to know that I would do anything to protect our family, even if it means sacrificing the one person I love more than anything.

She comes around the counter and pulls me to the door that leads to the bathrooms. The hall is quiet, with two doors, one for women and the other for men.

Fern’s arms wrap around my body. I’m not sure when I started shaking, but her arms–just for a moment–feel like my mom’s. As my throat clogs and my nose burns, I know if I don’t remove her, I’ll start to cry, but her body against mine is as close to the memory of Mama that I can get. So I wrap my arms around her and cry into her shoulder.

“I know you miss her,” Fern’s voice is shaky as she rubs my back. “And I know I’m not her, but I love you as if you were my own, Banks. I wish I had the opportunity to meet her. Everyone speaks so highly of her.”

I nod, letting my tears soak her shirt. I shouldn’t be crying on her shoulder. I should be out there with Charlie enjoying a drink and something with sugar on it.

I should be stronger.

“Letting yourself grieve your mother is okay,” she says as if she’s reading my mind. “I miss my parents too.” The reminder of her parents being slain in their home reminds me that I might not be the only one who needs this moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Never be sorry for being sad, Banks. It makes you human.” Stepping away from me, she looks into my face and gives me a small smile. “But remember that your friends and your family love you, so stop hurting them.”

I give her a small, rather ashamed smile in return and reply, “I’ll try.”

“And when you have the chance, show Henry how fucking stupid you were for sacrificing the love you have for each other.” With that, she walks into the ladies room and leaves me stunned.

When will I have the chance?