32. Lex
32
Idid my homework. The instant she left the office I went straight to my computer. I saw my other patients, but between every appointment, I sat there pulling together the evidence for my acquittal and I would not take “guilty” as the verdict. I hadn’t done any of it to prove my innocence or to make her feel bad for accusing me or running off. On the contrary, I did it all to help her see that I had never lied to her; that I was exactly the man I told her I was, and that man had never changed. That I was still that man today, a man who despite how furious I was over her choice to run off and keep my son from me, still loved her very much.
When she stepped onto the deck of the yacht, I was shocked. The driver had called me to say she refused the ride, and I sat here feeling sorry for myself but I couldn’t leave. Not tonight. Not if there was even a breath of a chance that she’d show up. And even though the demons haunted me, tormenting me and telling me that she left me from this very spot, I stayed. When the alcohol called to me, I poured it all out into the bay. And when I finally gave up as the clock struck 9:00 p.m., I was certain she wasn’t coming so I sank onto the sofa to mourn.
But she was here, standing right in front of me, looking as stunning as ever, but acting very reserved. “Charlie…” I stood too, hovering by the sofa on the deck. I didn’t want to move toward her and startle her. I knew how I had acted the past two times seeing her, and I didn’t even stop to consider how that would make her feel.
“Lex,” she said curtly, but she stayed where she was. Her hands wrung in front of her, purse dangling from her shoulder. Her hair had been tied up in a messy bun, and the blouse and slacks she wore suited her, though they were more sophisticated than the way she used to dress. More expensive too by the looks of it.
“Uh… Would you like to sit?” I felt nervous, of course. Not the same nerves as that night two years ago when that ring—long since returned to the store—burned a hole in my pocket.
Charlie nodded and ducked her head, then walked toward me. I waited until she sat in the spot farthest away from me at the end of the coffee table before I sat back down. I had rehearsed this moment over and over in my head, hoping to implant some sort of serenity in my mind and thoughts, but it was pointless. My heart was pounding so hard, my hands shaking. I looked at my palm and turned my hand over, then clasped them together. It wasn’t good for my heart, but how was I supposed to get through this moment to the peace on the other side if I didn’t just charge ahead?
“I’m sorry?—”
“I wanted you to?—”
We both spoke at the same time and she stopped abruptly when I did. Her head dipped again, refusing to make eye contact. This wasn’t the same Charlie from the studio dressing room, nor was it the same woman who came to me in my office this morning. She was hurt and upset, and I wanted to reach through all that hurt and get to her to make this all make sense.
“When you left my office today, you said something that surprised me.” I paused hoping she’d look up at me, but she didn’t. So I continued. “You said you thought I was cheating… And I made some unfair assumptions of my own after you left. But what I’d like to do is hear you out. So tell me; what were you thinking? What happened?”
I had managed to deal with all my anger so far. I didn’t even want to broach the topic of our child until we’d gotten down to the brass tacks of what actually went wrong, why she ran off. This was something that meant so much more to me than she’d ever known. The reason why someone left; why I wasn’t good enough. I needed that closure in so many ways.
“I, uh…” She took a cleansing breath and looked up at me. “The tabloids all said you were a playboy. My boss said it; he tried to make me write it. There were photographs and articles, videos even. And then you left me in the middle of the night, and that night when you were late, and I was here waiting for you…” Her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes blinked hard and fast, as if she were holding back tears. I knew her heart was probably ready to explode. I was so impressed with how she controlled herself, yet another thing I loved about her.
“Charlie, can I show you something?” I asked her. All my time and effort today was about to pay off. I lifted the couch cushion and produced my laptop, stored there earlier when I didn’t know what to do with it. I needed it to be out of my sight when I was hurting and thinking she wasn’t coming.
She looked confused when I pulled it out, but she nodded. I stood, carrying it, and walked to the other end of the couch so we were now sitting only a few feet apart. I set the laptop on the end of the table and opened it, unlocking it with my thumbprint. The screen flashed to life and I navigated through the files, one by one showing her the invoices for appointments now correlated with the images paparazzi said were times I was with another woman.
Charlie seemed to continue to wilt more and more, shrinking into herself, until I pulled up the video of the day we were supposed to be on my yacht. She gritted her teeth when the image of me in Myra’s car came up. Then she looked away and I saw tears brimming in her eyes.
“Please, don’t look away. Please let me show you.” I reached up and put one finger under her chin and gently turned her head back. “Look here…” I zoomed in on the photo, taken only moments before Myra started driving. My car was there too, on the side of the road with a flat tire, just as it had actually occurred. “My phone was dead from a long day of using it to plan an incredible evening for you. I had no charger with me. My tire went flat and I was stranded. And Myra was there to give me a lift.”
She blinked and the tears cascaded down her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands. “My God, Lex, I’m so sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry.” She could barely get the words out between sobs as the truth washed over her, and I felt horrible for being the one to make her feel this pain—like a doctor who has to rebreak a bone that is set wrong. It wasn’t a good feeling at all. It ripped my heart out.
I slid off the couch and knelt in front of her, wedging myself between her knees until it forced her to look at me and put her hands down. Then I reached up and brushed away the tears on her cheeks and looked her in the eye, no anger or malice in my expression at all.
“I never once lied to you, Charlie. You were my everything. I never even so much as looked at another woman. You were the one I wanted. I had a ring, and a plan, and I wanted to propose to you.” Maybe it was a mistake to say that to her because she only cried harder, even when I wrapped my arms around her and she buried her face in my chest.
“Oh my God, Lex. I’m such an idiot. I was so insecure. I had no idea. I just?—”
“Baby, please.” I rubbed her back and held her firmly to my body. None of this apology was necessary. Not a single word. She’d done what she did because of fear and pain, and I knew firsthand how much those two emotions pushed a person to do something even when they hated themselves for doing it.
I put a hand on each side of her head and forced her to look up at me. Then I spoke sternly to her, but with love.
“Now listen to me. My love for you has never changed, never wavered a single bit. I didn’t understand what you did or why you did it, and I was angry and hurt and did stupid foolish things that almost cost me my life. But in the end, I still love you as much as I’ve ever loved you. And we have a future together if you want it.”
Charlie’s eyes misted again and her eyebrows drew together in the center. Her tongue flicked over her lips but I didn’t let her say a word.
“We can’t move forward with our future if you’re stuck in the past in any way. The guilty conscience has to go. The doubt, the fear, beating yourself up, and especially—most definitely—every secret. So, I’m going to start the confessions now.” I kissed her forehead and braced myself for what she might say. “I am an alcoholic. I didn’t know how to deal with what happened or how abruptly you left, and I drank myself into a place where I almost died. I had a heart attack. I have two stents in my heart and I am struggling to stay sober.”
“My God, Lex, I’m so sorry.”
“Ah!” I grunted, “No more apologies. Just honesty.”
Still crying, she nodded at me and sniffled. “I have a son—we have a son. His name is Sebastian Alexander Hartman and he is the most amazing and incredible boy you’ll ever meet. He is so perfect and so sweet, and he looks exactly like you.”
I could barely make out what she was saying but I didn’t care. I’d hear it a million times if I asked her and it brought tears to my eyes. So much so that the only response I had for her was to kiss her, again and again until she was breathless and we were one again, well and truly one.