CHAPTER 31
ROXY
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
To say that the evening had gone as planned would be a lie, as would say that it was worse than expected. Roxy hadn't really expected Ellen to jump into her arms after her confessions, but maybe not to this extent. She had really screwed up, big time.
Everything revolved around her when she knocked on Charles's door. The Baxter wasn't known as one of the best places for whisky for nothing. Roxy had given herself permission to reconnect with her Scottish roots.
It was now past midnight, and Roxy had stayed far too long after Ellen left, drinking first her untouched glass of Scotch, then a second, then a third, and so on. Enough to feel Ellen's absence, but not enough to forget her.
Charles opened the door wearing his pajamas, but he hadn't gone to bed yet. He knew that Roxy was meeting Ellen that evening and was expecting a late visit.
His gaze, neither cold nor warm, swept over Roxy to assess the extent of the damage. Roxy's breath reeked of Scotch, and visually, she wasn't as steady on her feet as she used to be.
He silently moved from the doorway to let her pass. He didn't have to say a single word about how she was right now—Roxy could beat herself up just fine.
Everything around her seemed so strange.
Taking a moment, she studied the house, an act of calm reflection absent from her previous day's emotional storm.
Not a single piece of furniture had been moved from its original position.
The lighting was as it always was. The vibe was just off, though.
You could totally feel Charles and Roxy here before, but now it just feels like a throwback.
Without thinking, she made a beeline for the living room and sank onto the sofa, which was her usual spot for the past two years.
But she straightened up fast. She was on high alert, like a soldier waiting for the next command, despite the lost battle.
She'd been feeling that way since she left the Baxter.
The last words Ellen had spoken echoed hauntingly in her mind. "Don't contact me again, ever." Even though she had expected this scenario as the most likely, its actual occurrence brought a sharp pang of pain. The situation will force her to confront the truth.
The sound of approaching footsteps jolted her back to the present. Charles put a full glass of water and two ibuprofen pills on the small table. "You might wake up disliking yourself tomorrow, but you'll still like me because of this."
She took the glass and said a simple, "Thank you." He sat down across from her, not too close, not too far.
He added, with a touch of helpfulness, that he had also readied the guest room for her. "It would be better for you to stay here for the night."
"I don't want to bother you, Charles."
Charles looked at her, dead serious. "No arguing—you're not going anywhere." Roxy gave a nod, figuring that was her only choice. "So, it didn't go too well, huh?"
Roxy scoffed. "That's the least we can say," and after a long moment, "She told me not to contact her anymore."
He blinked once, then bobbed his head slowly. "I see. So, you told her everything."
"Yes, I did," she said. "I didn't meet Ellen at a running club. I met her because of my job. I was asked to meet her. You'll understand she wasn't exactly thrilled by the news."
Roxy strained to read Charles's reaction, but his sole utterance, a monosyllabic "Oh," offered no clue to his surprise. "And you fell in love with her."
"I know, it's messed up. I had everything ready to go. Everything had to remain professional, both for her and for me. After studying her for more than a month, I knew her intimately, every detail etched in my mind. Her being gay was the blindside complication, and it stirred something inside me."
Roxy paused and swallowed. "She was my target. But she wasn't a threat or someone I was meant to neutralize." She glanced at him for half a second. "That's not usually what I do," she said. "But I don't want to get into that. Not with you. I don't want you to lose what's left of me."
"Roxy, calm down. I hope I have a small understanding of who the real Roxy truly is? I'll handle any mess you've made, no matter how big or small. You can set your mind at ease." Charles let her continue her story in a listening mode.
"I wasn't supposed to get attached," she said. "I thought I knew the limits and how to keep my distance, but obviously I didn't."
"And did you tell her everything you just told me?"
"I didn't have time to tell her everything. She was angry and didn't want to listen to me anymore."
"I can't really blame her," replied Charles.
"She made me feel like I could be the best version of myself. The person I could have become if I hadn't chosen this life—or rather, if it hadn't chosen me. But then again, maybe MI6 killed that Roxy at the first opportunity. Maybe she was my first real victim."
To her surprise, a wave of serenity washed over Roxy. It was as if a colossal 20,000-pound weight had been miraculously lifted, leaving her shoulders feeling unburdened. "Thanks for everything. I didn't know where to go."
"You came to the right place. It's still your home, Roxy," he said simply.
Roxy nodded, but it caught somewhere in her throat. Another silence fell upon them. Then, Roxy simply said, "I think I broke her."
Charles shook his head. "Roxy, you are responsible for your words and actions, but not for how she reacted to them. Tell yourself that if she comes back, she will do so in full knowledge of the facts because you will have been honest."
"If she doesn't?"
"You don't have a thousand options, Roxy. You'll have to learn to live with it." He lifted his glass and softly clinked it against hers.
A familiar quietness fell between them, a silence that echoed the days before their relationship ended.
Even though their romantic relationship had ended, Roxy still felt safe and at ease with Charles.
She was sure she'd feel just as safe with Ellen, despite Roxy's frequent recklessness around her.
The key difference was that Roxy put herself in danger, not Ellen forcing her to.
Charles's eyes shot open as he abruptly sat bolt upright. "What do you think about moving back here?"
"What?" Roxy's brow furrowed as she asked, questioning whether her understanding of his words was correct.
"Think about it for a minute. The idea of paying rent while co-owning a house is absurd. You could stay in the guest room."
Roxy looked at him, incredulous. "Are you serious? Wouldn't you find that too weird?"
"Come on, you're gay, and my best friend. I don't have much room to be hopeful about," he said, smiling. "This will become normal for us. We could pick up your things tomorrow morning."
Roxy's eyes sparkled with joy, and a broad smile graced her lips, a sight unseen for weeks.
"Thank you, Charles. It would be nice to get back to our usual ritual, don't you think?
We still have one Australian Survivor season left to finish.
We could order take-out tomorrow night and start binge-watching it," Roxy proposed with a big smile.
Charles's lips parted, a word or two poised to be spoken, before he snapped them shut again. Roxy got the feeling he was squirming with the difficulty of saying no. "Charles, is everything alright?"
"Er... yes, that's fine. I'd love to, but tomorrow night... it's impossible." He inhaled deeply, releasing the worries that had been weighing on his thoughts. "I have a date tomorrow."
"A date?" A pleasant surprise coloured Roxy's tone. "Interesting. Do I know her?"
Roxy's reaction brought a visible sense of relief to Charles.
"No, you didn't. Her name's Kimberly. She was the executive chef for the caterer hired for a networking event organized by the Bank.
.. and it turns out I did more networking with her than anyone else.
It just came naturally, Roxy... I wasn't trying to replace you. "
"Hey, I'm the last person who can lecture you on that. Photo?"
Charles pulled out his phone. "Here, that's her," he said, tilting the screen toward her.
Kimberly was in a kitchen, hair pulled back, apron smudged, mid-laugh.
She was effortlessly cool, just radiating confidence.
She seemed like a woman who didn't need to impress anyone and was too practical for games.
"Damn," Roxy muttered. "She's bloody hot."
Charles chuckled. "Jesus, Roxy."
"What? We play for the same team now, so I get to weigh in." She tilted her head slightly. "She looks adorable. It suits you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
She nodded, handing the phone back. "To be honest, it's a bit of an upgrade from your last girlfriend. No offence to your past taste."
He laughed again, and it sounded softer, like he was grateful. "You're sure this is okay with you?"
"This will become normal for us," she said, repeating his own words from earlier. "First, I'm still the one who left you after coming out to you. Secondly, she's good for you. I'm trained to read people, even from a picture."
"Thanks." He locked the screen and slipped the phone away. "I didn't want to complicate things."
"It doesn't," Roxy said. "You're allowed to move forward, Charles. This is what I want for you."
He nodded slowly. Roxy walked over and wrapped her arms around him without asking. He pulled her in as if he'd been waiting for it. "I'm happy for you," she said.
He exhaled into her shoulder. "And you deserve to be happy too, Roxy."
She closed her eyes. "Yeah," Roxy murmured. "I suppose.