Chapter 39
Jake
She was sitting with her legs folded under her. A cup of coffee at her side. Balancing the cup on the arm of the sofa. Looking at her phone.
I took a deep breath and walked through the back door.
When she heard me walk in, she popped off the couch and came around to stand in my path.
“Hey,” she said in a breathy tone.
“Hi. I see you got some coffee. Did you eat?” I asked.
“No. I was waiting for you.”
I breezed past her.
“Look, Charlie. I think we should talk.”
“Great. Let’s talk.”
She started to walk toward me, and that’s when I noticed the T-shirt she was wearing. “What are you wearing?”
“This old thing?” she said, pulling it out by the hem.
“Where did you get that?” My voice hovered on the edge of annoyance.
“I found it in your drawer,” she answered innocently.
“You had no right to go through my drawers. You need to take it off right now.”
“Yes, sir,” she said seductively.
Seductively?
It registered where this was headed a beat too late. Charlotte pulled the shirt over her head. She stood in front of me completely naked. I watched the T-shirt drop to the floor.
“No. Charlotte. No. You need to go put some clothes on. I’m sorry, but I don’t want this.”
“Oh come on, Jake.” She took a few steps toward me, reached for my hand with both of hers. “You never turned me down before.” She dragged my hand to her skin.
I yanked my hand back.
“I am now.” It landed coldly.
I turned my back to her, giving her privacy to go back into the guest bedroom to put on some clothes.
I felt her hands inch up my back and around my waist from behind instead. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss this sometimes. We used to be so good together. Remember that? Remember when you couldn’t get enough of me? I know I hurt you. I want to make it up to you.”
No. This was all wrong. Her touch. Her warmth. It felt all wrong. I was not ready to move on from Ali. She was gone and I was ruined. Fucking Charlotte would only make things worse.
I picked her arms up from my body and shrugged out of her embrace.
“I can’t,” I said with a sigh.
I walked over to the couch and grabbed the blanket I had draped along the back. I spread it out and lifted it in front of me and blocked her bare body from my view.
“Wrap yourself in this if you aren’t going to get dressed,” I said.
“Fine.” A sharp inhale. “I get it. I’ll . . . go put something on.” She walked back into the guest room and closed the door.
I made a cup of coffee and waited for her to come out. I paused at the box of tea bags in the cabinet. I pulled one out and smelled it. Ali’s favorite kind.
When Charlotte reemerged, she was fully clothed and looked ready to talk. Or at least ready to hear what I had to say.
“Shall we sit?” I asked her politely. Delicately. I didn’t want to be cruel to Charlotte.
We sat at the kitchen table, and I told her where we stood.
I even thanked her for doing the hard thing three years ago and saving us both from a marriage that would not have been right for either of us.
I wished her all the best finding what she was looking for and reassured her that it wasn’t with me.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked me through a few tears.
“Because I did have it with someone, and it was so much more then I even have words to explain,” I admitted.
“With Ali?” she asked. Her name sent a stab through my heart. An ache I would never get used to.
“Yes. With Ali.”
“She stopped by earlier. Why did you two break it off, anyway, if you’re still in love with her?”
“Timing . . .” I glanced at my coffee cup and then realized. “Wait. What did you say? She came by here? Today? This morning?” My heart quickened.
“Yeah, she knocked on the door. I answered it. I told her you were on a run. Asked her if she wanted to leave a message.” Charlotte shrugged.
“Oh my God.” I ran to the front door and peered outside toward Ali’s cabin. There were no cars in the driveway. How did she get here?
“Did she say anything at all?” I hollered back toward Charlotte.
“No. She looked pretty upset.”
Suddenly it hit me.
“What were you wearing?”
“What?” Charlotte asked.
“What were you wearing when you answered the door?”
“That old T-shirt that you made me take off.”
“Oh shit. Please no.”
“What? Was that bad?”
I noticed a white piece of paper on the porch and picked it up. It was Ali’s handwriting. A note to me.
“I gotta go,” I said and took off toward Ali’s cabin. With any luck she would still be there and I could beg her to understand.
Misha’s car was now in the driveway. It was gone and now it was here. Did he take her somewhere? I pounded on the door.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Dr. Don Juan Paws,” Misha said as he opened the door.
“Is she here?” I asked. There was no masking the desperation in my voice.
“Is who here?” he asked.
“Come on, Misha. Ali. Is Ali here? I only just learned she came over. I need to speak with her. I need to see her.”
“Sorry, I’m all outta fucks.” He went to close the door on me.
I stopped him by holding my palm out.
“Wait. Please. It’s not what Ali thinks.
I miss her so fucking much, Misha.” My voice cracked.
I rubbed at my chest where the pain was becoming too much to ignore.
“Please, let me speak to her. I can’t breathe a full breath without her.
I’ve been trying for the last three weeks and it’s not working. Nothing is working,” I begged.
“Not even jumping into bed with your ex? Hmm . . . that is such a bummer for you.”
“That’s not what happened. I didn’t sleep with Charlotte.”
“Her sex hair and some T-shirt seemed to convince Ali otherwise.”
“Misha, Charlotte came to my house after midnight, drunk. I put her to bed in my guest room. And that T-shirt was safe in my drawer in my room before I left for my run this morning. I had no idea. You have to believe me.” Panic was screaming out of me.
“Is she inside? Did she go back to Chicago? I’ll drive wherever to catch up with her. ”
Misha stood like a guard with his arms crossed against his chest. Studying me. I heard Eric from his side hiss something that sounded a lot like, Help him.
“Oh fine. I’m sure you’ve already missed her, so I’m not breaking any best friend code. I dropped her off at the bus depot. She made it just in time to get on the bus back to Chicago,” Misha said, glaring back at Eric with a pointed look.
I turned to run back to my house.
“Wait. Where do you think you’re going?” Misha shouted after me.
“I don’t know. Go chase down a bus, I guess,” I shouted back to him, lifting my hands in the air as I said it.
Just then, Charlotte came running outside.
“Here are your keys. I’m coming too,” she said.
“Oh, is this the harlot?” Misha asked.
“Hey! Not fair.” I looked back at Misha in warning. He didn’t need to resort to name-calling. What Charlotte did was shitty, but she was also not a bad person.
“Charlotte, no, you shouldn’t come. I need to fix this with Ali,” I said.
“You think she’s going to take your word for it? At least bring me along to back up your story. Plus, I feel bad and I want to apologize.”
“Fine. Get in.” I didn’t have time to argue or work out a plan. I was operating out of pure impulse. The impulse to get her back. Her letter made it sound like it was possible.
“Jacob McLovin’ Elliot, are you out of your damn mind? You cannot take the mistress with you to win back the girl!” Misha sounded hysterical.
“I don’t have time for this!” I was scrambling with my keys. “Misha, hop in. You should come too.”
Next thing I knew, Eric hopped in also. My truck cab was full. It was a beast but not exactly equipped to comfortably fit four adults. I was pressed completely into the driver’s side door.
“Maybe we should take the Volvo.”
“No, Jake, we should not take the Volvo. You can’t make a grand romantic gesture in a Volvo!” Misha wailed from my side.