44. Mistakes were made （honestly I brought this on myself）
CHAPTER 44
MISTAKES WERE MADE (HONESTLY I brOUGHT THIS ON MYSELF)
CHARLIE
I miss her. Every breath, every blink. Every damn day. There’s not a thought I don’t want to share with her, a second I don’t want to touch her, taste her, hold her.
But it’s done. Over. Finished.
I thought I knew heartbreak when Lucy left, but that was a pleasure cruise next to this.
I just need time.
There’s no scrubbing away the memory of her or the time we had together. She can erase me from her life in every other way, would be right to, but nothing will take her from me. I’ll die clasping on to it.
Because that’s all we have now. The memories. The past. Our friendship—what’s left of it—sputtering along on fumes, barely a shadow of what it was. A greeting here, a smile there.
It helps that Ops agreed to have me back at my old desk on twelve. Not seeing her every day, having the temptation in front of me, is necessary.
I’ve lost count of the number of families I was sent to before I landed with the Walkers. I’m not as close to them as I am with Reese, but I’m grateful for them all the same.
They might have taken me in, but Reese was the first family I ever had.
Some ties are stronger than blood.
Like me, she was moved around a lot, but she’s much stronger than I am. Where I fought back, Reese lifted her head high and kept walking. I don’t know how she does it.
My whole life, I’ve been biding my time, preparing for the worst. Waiting to be disappointed.
“What the hell happened?” Reese asks after I let her in.
“I fucked it up. We both knew I was going to.”
I shouldn’t make room for sentimentality. I still have a go-bag packed in my closet. In case of a fire, I told Reese when she found it.
It’s better to not need anything, but I’ve always found it hard to let go. Found myself wanting to keep more and more. Of course, I still want more of Emma. When it comes to her, there’s no such thing as enough.
I’ve been greedy my whole life.
“Do you think I’m a good person?” I ask, heart in my throat.
Reese gapes at me, blinking, as if I’ve told her water is too wet. “What are you talking about? Of course you are.”
Yeah, I’m not sure about that. “Don’t you think I’m a hypocrite? That I’ve become what we always hated? An asshole working my life away, strutting around in thousand-dollar clothes?” I crash onto the couch, drop my head in my hands. “Eight years ago, I had a goal. I’d work and save. Help with the shelter. Then I’d leave before it changed me. I never thought about what came after. I spent so long trying to get somewhere, but I never had a clue where I was going. Now look at me.” I gesture around the apartment. “Just one more soulless suit.”
Reese punches me in the shoulder, sending me reeling back.
“Ow, what the bell?”
“Keep talking about my brother like that and see what it gets you.”
I sulk, rubbing the spot. Damn. I’m starting to regret teaching her that move.
She sighs, long and deep. “Do you remember my twelfth birthday?”
Weird sidebar, but okay. “Yeah, you disappeared after school and scared the shit out of me.”
“I didn’t think anyone would notice. No one had before.”
“I noticed.”
Lips pressed together, she dips her chin. “You did, and you covered for me.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know Mom and Dad were cool yet.”
It’s been sixteen years, and I still have to remind myself not to call them Stacy and Dave. Too many years of new guardians. New “siblings.” New schools. After a while, it’s hard not to feel like a broken toy, donated and recycled. Rinse and repeat.
“You had my back from the beginning, even though you barely talked. No matter how much I asked about that scar on your hand, you never told me where you got it. You could be bleeding and half-broken, but I could always count on you.”
I open my mouth, but she doesn’t let me speak.
“I’d never had anyone looking out for me before,” she says, “but there you were, staying up with me when I couldn’t sleep, teaching that little shit Jimmy Wallace a lesson when he called me a bitch, letting me beat you at Mario Kart .”
“You cheated in Mario Kart . Letting you win was easier.”
“Mom told me, you know. How you begged her to let you bake every one of my birthday cakes.”
My neck goes hot. “I don’t beg.”
She rolls her eyes. “But you did make them all.”
I don’t know what she wants me to say. Of course I did. I’m her brother. I look after her. That’s what I do. I don’t know why we have to sit here and rehash it all.
“Fifteen years, you’ve been looking after me. I love you for that. And I’m going to need you to remember you love me too when I say this. I need you to start looking after yourself.” She grasps my arm. “You’re not soulless. Sure, you might live more comfortably now, but you’re still the same Charlie, still looking after the people you care about. If you don’t like where you are, then change it. Stop fighting and let yourself be happy.”
Stomach twisting, I lower my focus to the coffee table. “What if I don’t deserve it?”
It’s my greatest fear.
I’ve done some good, but I’m not without my flaws. Why should I get to have this when so few things have gone right for me in the past?
Why should I get to have Emma when I’ve hurt her so badly?
“Then earn it,” Reese says, and an echo of the old me roars in my chest.