Chapter 45 - Charlie
Shelter - Dermot Kennedy ?
S linging my bag over my shoulder I head to the back entrance of the bar. Putting it just inside the office door as I venture out to check on the night's shenanigans. Mila literally dragged me from my bed shouting it was tough love time and I needed some fresh air, forcing me to spend the day with her and Henry at their house. I felt a little lighter from all of the cuddles I got, even managing a few laughs when Henry somehow projectile vomited his milk all over Dante. I need to remember to keep moving forward like this. It's been a week since everything happened at the hospital, a week since I found out … it's okay for me to grieve as long as I'm still moving forward.
Ride 'em Cowgirl night is in full swing and even though my eyes well up, I know Porter would be pissed at me for making this stupid Coyote Ugly night an actual thing. I mean he would forgive me but he would still be pissed. Gods, I wish I could see his face right now and how much he would hate it. I can't help the small chuckle that escapes as I think of it. More women turn up every month to dance the night away and now that summer's here I've never seen so many people happy to dress up in next to nothing for a theme night.
Pushing open the staff only door I'm assaulted with loud music and cheering. A man sits alone in my old seat, his head down, covered by a beat up cowboy hat and a pain rips through my heart at the sight of him. Knowing I will never sit there and be caged in by the man I love. Never have him eat dinner with me as we chat about our day. Never get to hear him say, I love you .
Keeping my head down I move toward Mel, the tears I willed to not fall running down my cheeks.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she says, pulling me into a hug and squeezing me tightly. I'm so lost right now but I can't think of what to say so I just shake my head. Rubbing my face and forcing a smile.
“I’ll be okay.”
I think I'll be okay.
I serve a few drinks until the ache in my heart gets too big and I move back to my corner, the man still sitting there. His drink is now empty and I grab the bottle of bourbon nearby and give him a double, pouring myself a matching one. Not bothering to say anything as we’re both lost to our own worlds. The simple gesture of a shared drink between two wandering souls.
It's weird this feeling of being numb inside while all around you is joy and happiness. The smiles and laughter of people having a great night out consume the room, but if you look closely you can see the fracture. The guy at the other end of the bar, talking to a girl where the smile only reaches half up her face. The group of friends who tolerate each other, but find no real joy in each other's company any more. And the guy sitting alone in a quiet corner of the bar, a single drink of bourbon in his hand and not a soul around him. It's like he has a force field surrounding him saying fuck off, I don't like people . The worn hat he wears covers his face and he has on a long sleeve black henley despite the warmth in the room. Tattoos cover his hands, a word I can't quite make out on his knuckles. They are slightly mangled, worn and faded where the ink looks almost blotchy in parts, scars spread across them in the most unusual places.
What does it say?
L
L I
L I L
L I L A
My glass falls to the ground, the bourbon spraying my legs as it shatters and the man doesn't move.
He doesn't even flinch.
He stays still, his head looking down, his hat covering his face. I step forward, pressed against the bar, barely managing to breathe.
Bringing my hand in front of me I tentatively reach out. The edge of his hat just skimming my fingertips. Looking down, I check his hands again. The all familiar LILA tattooed across his knuckles.
Tentatively, I pull the hat up. An intimate moment surrounded in a sea of chaos, but I can't hear any of it, we're alone. Two people lost in the world having found their way back to one another.
Porter.
Pasha.
His hat falls to the floor and I'm met with the same dark eyes I fell in love with. Watching me as I take him in.
Keep breathing.
My hand drops to the bar top, carelessly falling into his. He's so warm. Gods, he’s so warm. How is this real?
“You died?” I croak out, tears streaming down my face. I don't understand what is happening. How can he be here if he died? How can he be here if I'm alone, I lost my person, I'm alone now ... right ?
He stands, his movements stiff and uneven. His body not quite working how he needs it to. As he rounds the bar I see his slow intentional steps. One hand holding the bench top, the other holding a cane.
How is this even possible? He was so broken.
Standing his full height before me, he lifts his fingers to my chin, tilting my head up to look at him before moving his hand to my neck. His fingers squeezing just a little bit harder than normal, my pulse beating firmly underneath them. I close my eyes, cementing every second of this moment to memory. The stubble of his beard grazes my cheek and I can't help but gasp at the sensation of an almost kiss as I feel his lips against my ear.
“Not even the Devil herself could keep me from you, moye spaseniye. [14] ”
His voice has the same familiar gravel to each word. A voice I thought I would never hear again.
“I would climb from the pits of Hell to come back to you, Charlie. Every day you surround me is another day worth living, worth fighting for you, for us . I will never give up on everything we can have together. You are my past and my future, and I need … I need, I need you to know that I love you.”
Grabbing onto his top, I have to be closer to him. Desperate to have him with me always. Resting my head to his chest, I bury my face into his warmth. Crying about everything it took to get to this point.
“Why did you leave me,” I sob. The words muffled over how tightly I’m holding onto him.
“Why didn't you come back to me straight away.” I'm so lost in my anger and relief that I don't even notice how I've been beating against his chest. My closed fists thump over and over until his strong arms wrap around me, caressing my head as he lets me cry. The soft whispers of I’m sorry, I thought I was doing the right thing repeating over in between a trail of kisses he leaves across my head.
Pulling away from me, my eyes open to his face only inches from mine, the light of the room catching the shine of his eyes. “I love you, Charlie. I think a part of me has loved you from that first night in the basement. But my whole heart loves you now, just as a part of me will always love Lila. I love you. I love you . Ya tebya lyublyu [15] . Whatever you want to do in this life just know that I will be by your side living each amazing moment with you. Good, bad, it doesn't matter. I love you, forever .”
His eyes search my face as the music continues to blare and not one person has noticed. This moment in time felt by only the two of us and I know without a doubt I will never give this man up.
“I love you too Pasha … forever”