Chapter Three #3
She stopped and turned to see Donnie, his face tight and pale. Her chest tightened.
“It’s Nate. There’s been an accident.”
That night had been the best and worst of her life.
Donnie had driven her to the hospital, where Nate had been rushed into surgery.
But they couldn't save him. A delivery van’s brakes had failed and plowed head on into Nate’s little Toyota.
He’d had to be cut out. The only consolation they had was he had been unconscious when the paramedics arrived, so had not suffered.
The next few days had gone by in a daze.
She had tried to call Donnie, text him, but he hadn't responded. She assumed he was lost in his own grief. When she saw him at the funeral, he had hugged her, but seemed distant and cold. She’d clung to him during the service, knowing Donnie loved Nate as much as she did.
Donnie barely spoke, but she told herself it was the shock. He was mourning in his own way.
When the service was over, Donnie had walked her to the car where her parents waited. He kissed her mom on the cheek and shook her dad’s hand. Then he turned to her,
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Charlie.” Then he walked away without looking back. She’d called after him, confused, but he didn’t stop. That was the last time she had seen him. Ten years ago.
Realizing her eyes were moist, she blinked, bringing herself back to the present. It still hurt. After months trying to talk, with no answers, she began to doubt everything Donnie had said to her that night. He probably said the same shit to all the girls he met and meant none of it.
She looked out the window as the familiar sites of Albany came into view. It had taken time, but she had moved on. She was marrying Simon Radwell in eight weeks. With that thought, her phone pinged. Simon had finally answered her text.
OK.
The short response told her he was cross. He really could be an asshole at times. Either all men were, or she had a knack of attracting them.
Pushing Simon and Donnie out of her mind, she spoke to her driver.
“Max, can we make a quick stop before you drop me off?”
He met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Of course, Ms. Weston. Where?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson’s house. They’re family friends, and it’s Mrs. Donaldson's birthday. I won't stay long.”
“No problem. The address?”
Charlie rattled it off. “Oh, can we stop at a florist real quick, too?” She smiled.
“Absolutely.”
Thirty minutes later, with a bunch of pink roses laying next to her on the seat, the Mercedes turned onto Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson’s street. The closest space to park along the curb was a couple of houses down.
“I won't be too long, promise.”
“Take as long as you like, Ms. Weston,” Max said before coming around to open her door. She would rather open it herself, but Max got offended whenever she did. He took great pride in his job.
“Thank you, Max.”
Someone was cutting the grass as she approached the familiar house, flowers in hand.
The man had his back to her, but it clearly wasn't Mr. Donaldson. Mr. Donaldson didn’t cut the grass shirtless, and this man was well...
fit. Very fit. Perhaps, they’d hired a gardener.
Just as she reached the front path, the fit body turned with the lawn mower.
She stopped, almost dropping the flowers.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. If she’d thought Donnie was hot in high school, he was scorching now.
His skin glistened with sweat that trickled down to the waistband of his jeans and...
Realizing she was staring; she raised her head and met his shocked face.
She had often imagined what she would say to him if she ever saw him again, but standing here now, no words would form. He’d disappeared. Broke her heart. Left her alone like she had meant nothing.
Donnie turned off the lawn mower.
“Charlie.” He grabbed his T-shirt off the front step and wiped his face with it. “It’s been a long time.”
“Whose fault is that?” she snapped without thought. He winced and she sighed. “I’m just here to wish your mom a happy birthday. I had no idea you were back. I won’t stay long.”
“You look good.”
She stared at him in disbelief. Ten years, and that’s all he had to say? Not answering, she strode past him, trying to look more in control than she felt. He legs wobbled and dammit, tears threatened.
“Charlie. Wait.” He spoke softly. She ignored him and knocked on the front door, working to regain her composure. Damn him. Why did he still have such an effect on her? The door opened, revealing Mrs. Donaldson with a big smile, holding out her arms.
“Charlie, what a lovely surprise. How spoiled am I having both James and you come visit.”
Charlie smiled and gave her a hug, then handed her the flowers. “I just wanted to say happy birthday.”
“That’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you. Can you believe James is here? It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other.”
“Yes, it has.” She refused to look his way.
“Well, come on in.”
Charlie followed Mrs. Donaldson into the house without looking back as she closed the door behind her.