Free

Chapter 44

FORTY-FOUR

Charlie

I pull up in front of Angela and Garrett’s house and kill the engine. The driveway is quiet, the house bathed in shadow. Night has fully fallen, and the moon and stars are hidden behind heavy clouds, the sky an endless expanse of black on black. Even the porch light seems dimmer than usual, its glow diffused by the thick humidity hanging in the air. It feels oppressive, like the night itself is conspiring with my mood. Nothing is clear. Everything is dark.

I sit for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, my mind racing in spirals I can’t untangle. Sadness twists with confusion, and I can’t even pinpoint why. What just happened? Nothing. Everything. I don’t know…

With a sigh, I climb out of the car and make my way up the steps. I let myself into the house as quietly as possible, careful not to disturb anyone. With Elise’s weird schedule, waking her would be a disaster. The soft click of the door shutting behind me barely echoes before a light flicks on in the kitchen, spilling warm yellow into the hallway.

I hear Garrett humming—a low, tuneless sound—and Elise cooing in response, her baby babble laced with sleepy contentment. Despite myself, a small smile tugs at my lips. Paternal bliss isn’t something I ever imagined for my no-nonsense brother, but it suits him in a way I didn’t expect. He’s softer now, gentler. A reminder, yet again, that even the most predictable things in life can change when you least expect it.

Garrett’s head pokes through the doorway. “I thought I heard you,” he whispers. His brow creases slightly, his curiosity obvious. “Didn’t think you’d be home until tomorrow.”

I shrug, torn between the desire to retreat upstairs and curl up alone, and the pull of the light in the kitchen. “I’m a little surprised to be here myself.”

“Well, come on then,” he says, gesturing with a tilt of his head. “Get in here and keep me company.”

He disappears back into the kitchen, and I follow. Elise sits in her highchair, her tiny fists waving in the air, the remnants of oat crisps scattered on her tray. Garrett stands by the counter, a mug of steaming tea in his hand. The faint scent of chamomile and mint drifts through the room, mingling with the ever-present hint of baby wipes and lavender detergent.

“Mom always said I’d come around to her way of thinking,” he says, lifting the mug to his lips.

“Remember those aromatherapy bracelets she made us when we were kids?”

“I remember you telling her she smelled like dirt.”

“You have to admit, the scent of vetiver is incredibly earthy.”

Garrett snorts, shaking his head at the memory of Mom’s favorite essential oil. “I fought her so hard on all her herbal concoctions, and here I am, drinking her calming tea because I swear it helps.” He chuckles, the sound soft and disbelieving. “That woman has a way about her.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “She’s in my head big time right now.”

Garrett’s brows knit together as he sets the mug down. “How so?”

I slide onto a stool at the counter and fold my arms, resting them on the cool surface. “I told her about Nick. She gave me this advice about embracing our time together but going slow, keeping my eyes out for red flags. She said we were both vulnerable, and I needed to be sure this was the real deal, not just some way to cover up how hurt we’re both feeling.”

“Sound advice,” Garrett says, nodding. “And it sounds a lot like what I told you.”

I acknowledge his statement with a dip of my chin and flared hands before continuing.

“It’s got me second-guessing everything,” I admit, my voice soft, but heavy with frustration. “When Nick’s anxiety fades, I congratulate myself on the power of love. And then when it resurfaces, I feel like I’m nowhere near enough for him.”

Garrett leans against the counter, his expression thoughtful. “That’s an awful lot of responsibility for one person, Charlie. Being the sole remedy to trauma like Nick’s faced.”

I close my eyes, nodding slowly.

“I’m still not sure how that explains why you’re home tonight,” he presses gently.

I explain the call I had from Mom, the call Nick had from his CO, and the conversation that followed. “He looked so, I don’t know, hurt? Upset? Confused? When I told him he should consider the offer.”

“And that surprises you why?” Garrett asks, tilting his head.

“Because!” I say the word sharper than I intend, my hands flying up to emphasize the point. “The idea of him going back to that job—the one that kept us apart for years and then nearly killed him—it scares me to death! But I’m urging him to explore the option anyway because I love him so much. I only want what’s best for him, regardless as to how it affects me. Shouldn’t I get some credit for that?”

Garrett dips his head in acknowledgement of my feelings but holds up a hand. “Or maybe,” he says softly, “and I’m just putting this out there, maybe in the heat of the moment, what he heard was you telling him you wanted him to go. That you wanted to buy the studio and pull the plug on your relationship. Go back to the way things were when you first met.”

“I told him that’s not what I wanted, Bear. I told him.”

Garrett’s gaze is steady, his voice calm. “The head and the heart hear things differently, Charlie. How did he react when you told him about the studio?”

“His face was a masterclass in subtlety,” I say, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “He gave away absolutely nothing. His jaw twitched once, barely noticeable unless you know him like I do. His eyes, though…” I pause, frowning as I try to piece it together. “There was the smallest flicker of something. Surprise, maybe? Or hesitation? It vanished too quickly for me to pin down. Was he proud? Indifferent? Worried about what it meant for us? Relieved? I couldn’t tell.”

Garrett watches me for a moment before he asks, “Have you ever heard the story about Nick’s parents and the peach water?”

I shake my head, sighing at the strange conversational turn. “Nope. Should I have?”

“It’s Hutton legend,” Garrett says, smirking. “When Wyatt and Kara first got married, she bought all these flavored waters. Week after week, Wyatt drank the peach ones first, so she figured that meant it was his favorite and eventually stopped buying the other flavors altogether. One day, he got fed up and asked her why the hell she only bought peach. Turns out, he hated them. He drank them first so she wouldn’t have to.”

I stare at him, incredulous. “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“You could start with waiting for me to finish the story,” Garrett says, clearly enjoying himself. “The thing is, Nick’s a lot like Wyatt.”

“So what? Don’t buy him peach water?”

“No, Charlie.” Garrett laughs softly. “You and Nick are doing a peach water dance right now. You told him about the yoga studio so he could take the consulting job if he wanted. And he didn’t beg you to stay so you’d feel free to go back home if that’s what you wanted. But that’s not what either of you want.”

“That’s a lovely theory,” I say, bitterness creeping into my tone. “But I told him I didn’t want him to go, Garrett. And he told me he was going to ask me to move in with him… and then didn’t.”

Garrett’s smirk softens into something gentler. “You know how he is.”

“I’m tired of knowing how he is. I’m tired of guessing, of stretching myself thin trying to read between the lines.” My voice cracks, and I look away, blinking back tears. “When Nick got hurt, I was desperate. And scared, maybe more scared than I’ve ever been. I’d been in love with him for four years. Four years! And we never even kissed because he had that stupid rule about not being in a relationship because of his job. Do you know what he said to me the day I finally saw him at the hospital?”

Garrett shakes his head and I close my eyes, not ready to relive this particular moment.

The memory has a stranglehold on my voice. It scrapes up my throat. “I told him I’d be there for him through all of it, the healing, the physical therapy, whatever he went through, I’d go through too. He didn’t say anything, Bear. He just stopped talking. Everything fell apart after that. It feels so much like what happened tonight and I just don’t think I can live like that again. After everything we’ve been through, I need something firm. Something solid. I need him to tell me he wants me. I don’t want to have to guess.”

Garrett nods his understanding and places a comforting hand on mine.

Nick pushed me away once, claiming it was best for me. But damn it! That wasn’t his call then, and it’s not his call now. We are so past the “If you love someone, let them go” stage of this relationship.

If he loves me, I need him to ask me to stay.