XXV
“Is… is that it?” Charlie asked with disbelief.
Lucky stood with his hands on his hips and looked around for a second. “Fucking hell, I think it is. I think that was the last file.”
“Oh, my God…”
Lucky gasped. “Language, Mr. Wickham!”
Charlie giggled and looked up at him, spinning on his heel with excitement. “We did it!”
Lucky also started laughing. He picked Charlie up and twirled him around, his tail whacked into the side of the nearby shelf full of boxes.
The month had flown by, and though the first was still a few days away, the impossible task of filing away the prince’s entire history of souls had been finished.
Charlie wrapped his arms around Lucky’s neck. Lucky placed his hand on Charlie’s back and held him close as they embraced.
“Thank you,” Lucky whispered.
“Happy to help. Don’t forget, you owe me a nice letter of recommendation,” Charlie said with an accusatory finger pointed his way.
“You got it, Chuck. Do you want to get something nice for dinner to celebrate? We could go out for Italian again, or a steakhouse?”
“Yes! But not yet. It’s only three in the afternoon, we should at least try and get some of the boxes organized by date while we still have the momentum going.”
Lucky set Charlie down and groaned. “You’re such a killjoy.”
“Yeah, but imagine how much sweeter the wine will be with a little extra work done. We could even sleep in tomorrow.”
“How irresponsible of you! What have you done with my Charlie?”
Both of them laughed as they walked the long rows of files back to the front of the office where the hellhound slept soundly on his now too-small bed. Charlie raced toward the cardboard container with the most recent date on it and pulled it free while Lucky fished for his phone.
“I am going to get some coffee from downstairs. Do you want anything?” the prince asked as he summoned the elevator.
“I’d love a regular temperature chai, please.”
“Extra whip?”
“Yes.”
“Be right back.”
Lucky stepped inside and pressed the button for the reception floor for his circle.
He rolled his head to the side. His vertebrae popped and he let out a satisfied sigh as the tension released.
Resting his head on the back of the elevator box, he tried to psyche himself up for what needed to come next.
The coffee was just a distraction to give himself extra time to muster up the courage to tell Charlie the truth.
The job had been done, Charlie had seen it finished with his own eyes, so he’d have no unresolved business in Hell.
The prince planned to take him out to dinner, treat him to a lovely meal, and tell him about his body back on Earth.
Hopefully that would sever the connection between them and remove his imprint.
It was the only thing keeping Charlie here.
It had to be, and he didn't want to hide the truth any longer.
The prince’s greed was keeping them bound.
With how powerful Lucky was, his yearning for Charlie grounded his soul to Hell.
To him. Mixed with the fact that Charlie wholeheartedly believed he was dead, alongside the state of his body until recently, it had created a beautiful lie that Lucky kept feeding out of selfishness.
It was time to starve it. Time to let Charlie go home.
Gabe was sure that would work. The moment Charlie knew he could go back, he would, and Lucky would have to let him go. He was ready to do so. His little checklist of what-ifs and to-dos had come to an end, and he’d made peace with it.
So, he’d go downstairs, buy him a boring little chai with whipped cream and sit with him for a few more hours.
He’d tell Nyx the hellhound sitter to walk Luke and John, take it out on a nice stroll so it wouldn’t interfere when its protector suddenly became distressed and vanished soon after—and to have one final meal since the hound had done an amazing job of protecting its person and deserved it.
Then they’d go to dinner, laugh and make nice memories to hopefully numb the pain as his lies came to light, and watch Charlie’s soul flicker away back to Earth.
Then he’d go home to his oversized apartment and drink alone as he grappled with his self-inflicted regret from his cowardice of not being able to tell Charlie the last bit of the truth that he’d kept close to his heart. That he loved him. Fully, wholly, desperately loved him.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped out to get that oversized chai latte with tears bubbling in his fiery eyes.
It was time to say goodbye to Charlie Wickham, and his heart was broken over it.