.And Broken Condoms
Charlie | The Past
By the time Alek finally stills behind me for the last time, the clock is creeping toward two in the morning. I collapse face-first onto the bed, spent and breathless, a tangle of limbs and exhaustion.
Barely a heartbeat later, I jolt upright, heart pounding like a warning bell.
Horror claws at me as I spot the thick white trail sliding down my thigh.
My glare shoots to Alek, ready to unleash fury for skipping the condom I was sure he wore, but my anger falters when I see his face—pale, trembling, and stricken.
The memory of dinner churns uneasily in my stomach, twisted by the reality of the broken condom.
"Oh, god," I whisper.
Alek's eyes clash with mine, and the muscles around his mouth tense as he rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. This is the first time it's ever happened, so I wasn't expecting it. I promise I'm clean."
The only thing I can manage is a nod while I climb from the bed. "It was an accident. I know. I'm clean too, and I'm on the shot, so we're fine."
So why does it feel like the air has been sucked from my lungs?
My steps to the bathroom blur, each one heavy with the chaos of emotions warring inside me.
Shaking, vision swimming, I twist the shower knob and step in without waiting for warmth, desperate to wash away the night.
The icy spray needles my skin, but I barely register it. I sink to the bottom of the tub, curling into myself, arms wrapped tight around my knees, forehead pressed to bone.
This night was meant for pleasure, laughter, and firsts. Not this spiral of dread and regret.
I suppose a broken condom, a fresh wave of STI panic, and the looming specter of that one percent birth control failure rate all count as new experiences, too.
Alek swears he’s clean, but trust doesn’t come that easily. We’re not exclusive, and while I haven’t heard rumors, with Alek, nothing would shock me. The shot shields me from pregnancy, but it’s useless against an STI.
Wouldn’t that just be the universe’s cruelest joke?
My cheating ex catches something from his sleazy side piece, and I risk the same fate just trying to move on from him.
Amelia would call me dramatic, roll her eyes, and tell me to stop borrowing trouble. Usually, I’d listen. Tonight, though, I just can’t breathe.
The glass doors of the shower open, and then Alek's body wraps around mine from behind.
"Sometimes strong people break, Charlie," he murmurs, giving me the words he's heard me say a million times in the last six months.
A sob rips through me, raw and unexpected. I can’t even name what I’m crying for.
That the condom broke? That I'm going to have to get tested to be safe? That I slept with someone who wasn't Keaton and actually enjoyed it? That I'm not one hundred percent sure I'm ready to move on yet? That I'm still so fucking stupidly in love with the guy that completely obliterated my heart?
Maybe it’s all of it, tangled together in one impossible knot.
"I'm sorry," I gasp, trying to get control of myself.
"Don't. Don't fucking do that, Charlie. You're human. You've been broken and are slowly picking up the pieces. Healing isn't linear, babe. Things are going to trigger you. This just happens to be one of them. Do you regret it?"
I sniffle and lean my head back against his chest. "No. I hate that our night turned into this."
He nips at my neck. "Stop. It's not like I haven't been with you every step of the way. I know the landmines I have to be careful of."
"Why can't I hate him, Alek? He fucking destroyed me, and I still can't find it in me to hate him, no matter how much I want to. All I can feel is pain and this stupid ass love my heart refuses to let go of."
Alek stands me up and grabs the shampoo, squirting a generous amount into his hand before working it into my hair.
His breath brushes against me as he sighs.
"Because your heart also remembers the person he was before Rianna came into your lives.
I'm not saying she's the cause, but she was the catalyst." He grabs the shower nozzle and gently rinses the shampoo from my hair.
"You're not someone who can hate, Charlie.
From everything I've learned about you, that's never been who you are.
Amelia says your parents are the same way.
It's hard to hate someone when you're an empathetic person, because that part of you leaves you vulnerable to their feelings.
It's why you refuse to let your parents cut him completely out, even when they try.
It's why you wouldn't let me or David make his life hell on campus, and it's why you always get that short flash of guilt in your eyes when we fuck around.
Have you gotten any more letters from him? "
Alek and Amelia both know about the letters Keaton would send me. I never really told them much about the contents because it just didn't feel right to divulge that, but I gave pieces I needed help to understand or wanted their input on.
I swear, a growl rumbles in my chest when I think of that last letter. That one... that one, I let them read. Why? Because after reading it, I wanted to grab the gallon of gasoline my father keeps in his shed to douse Keaton in before tossing a match and setting him on fire.
"The audacity of him and the damn stupid ass noble attempt at giving me "permission" to move on," I growl, following Alek out of the shower and stepping into the fluffy towel he holds open for me.
"He cheats on me and then he just...just," I stomp my foot, flustered, and ignore the gentle amusement on Alek's face. "He just lets me go."
"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asks, wrapping the towel at his waist and leaning back against the sink to watch me pace. "You're working to move on and heal. So, why are you so worked up? What did you want from him, Charlie Henderson?"
"A fight," I scream, my voice cracking on the last syllable. My shoulders sag, and I glance at Alek with wet eyes. "I wanted to see him fight for me."
"Oh, my sweet Lollie-girl," he murmurs, pulling me into his arms. "Can I tell you what I think?"
I lean my head back and glare up at him. "Is it that you'll bring the matches if I bring the gasoline?"
His lips twitch. "Ah, no."
"Then it's that you think I should bring my rusty scissors, and you should bring the tarp."
Alek winces. "Rusty scissors? Let's hope he has his tetanus shot."
"Well, if it's not that you think you should bring your pitchfork and ride with me and Mel at dawn, then what the heck is it that you think?"
"You're fucking cute," he chuckles, kissing my nose.
But then he turns the moment serious again.
"I think that he is fighting for you in the only way he can right now. His letter wasn't really about giving you permission so much as giving himself."
"What do you mean? Give himself permission for what?" I ask as he pulls us into his bedroom.
I grab one of Keaton's old t-shirts and a pair of my boy shorts from my bag and get dressed.
"To love you from afar. Until a few months ago, he was selfish.
That selfishness led to his destruction, and he lost the best thing in his life.
He's finally seeing that. So, I think he's telling you he loves you above anything else in his life, and he wants only for you to be happy.
Even if that means it's not with him." Alek sighs and runs his hand through his hair, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
"He can't fight for you in the way you want, Charlie, until he fights for himself first. He needs to heal himself and understand why he did what he did before he can try to heal you two.
So, to me, he is fighting for you in the only way he can right now.
By seeking therapy, healing himself, and trying to make sure you're happy. "
My brows furrow as I stare at him and nibble my lip. "I thought you didn't like him."
Alek shrugs and gives me a warm smile. "I don't, but despite his vile transgression, you love him. It's already hard enough for you, Lollie-girl. Why would I make it more difficult?"
I cup his cheek and lean down to brush a sweet kiss across his lips. "One day, Alek, you're going to make some lady really fucking lucky."
Something in his face changes, but when I open my mouth to ask him if he's okay, he warns me with a shake of his head.
Smiling, I kiss him again before climbing into bed. "Thank you, Alek."
"For what?" he asks, scooting up behind me and tossing his arm over my waist.
"Being my best friend."
"The feeling is mutual."
I'm staring out the window, listening to the silence of the room and the chaos in my mind when he speaks again.
"I know you said you're on the shot, but if something happens, I'm here. Okay? We're in this together. You won't be alone."
Squeezing the hand at my waist, I let the tears fall silently down my face. "I'll be okay. We're protected."
I lose track of time, staring out the window as thoughts batter my mind like a relentless storm.
When the room starts to feel too small, I slip from the bed, grab my phone, and retreat to the bathroom. I sink to the floor, leaning against the cool cabinets.
Tears splatter across my phone screen as I stare at Keaton’s name, my thumb hovering over his contact.
I remind myself there’s a reason we barely talk, but my patched-up heart aches for him anyway.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I unblock his number and press call.
One ring.
Two rings.
"Charlie?" he answers hoarsely.
His familiar voice yanks a sob from my chest.
"I hate you."
"I know, butterfly."
Silence settles over the line except for the sniffles that come from both of us.
"I had sex with Alek."
Something crashes on his end. "I know, butterfly."
"And I enjoyed it."
"I know that too. It's okay, Charlie."
"The condom broke," I tell him quietly.
The sad part is that I'm not even telling him these things to hurt him. I'm telling him because he's my person and I'm feeling weak right now.
"You're on the shot, so you're okay."