Chapter 11
KEZ
Charlotte’s soaking in the clawfoot tub when I enter the bathroom, bubbles covering everything from her neck down.
Despite how often my family has vacationed here, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve stepped into this room.
My mother always said this was her favorite room in the cabin, which I found strange, but now I understand.
A golden hue from the tealight candles illuminates the dark room, while scents of eucalyptus and spearmint soap fill the air.
“One towel and one mug of hot chocolate. Here you are.” I carefully pass Charlotte the snowman mug with a mountain of whipped cream on top, then set the towel on the side table. She thanks me, and I turn to leave, but her words halt my footsteps.
“Join me? I don’t mind sharing,” she says. Her lips curl into a grin.
I face her and glance at the tub, then back at her. “Are you sure?”
She nods. “There’s plenty of room. Only if you want.”
I arch a brow. “You only want me to finish that massage from earlier.” I don’t bother hiding my teasing grin.
She lifts a soapy hand from the water, thumb and forefinger nearly touching. “Just a tiny bit.”
I shrug. “Your bathtub. Your rules.”
We share a laugh.
I strip off my clothes and take my time, fully aware that Charlotte’s tracing every movement.
The butterflies in my stomach flutter uncontrollably.
My cheeks flush at the way she looks at me, unapologetically devouring me with her eyes.
I slide my jeans to my ankles, adding them to the puddle of clothes, and continue until I’m standing naked in the candlelight.
“You’re so beautiful.” Charlotte’s lips curl upward, soft and sincere.
“Thanks.” I mirror her smile. “So are you.”
Then she gives me a not so innocent look. “You still have a great ass, by the way.”
That makes me laugh.
I step into the tub behind her, careful not to disturb the water as I settle in. Heat wraps around my muscles, pulling a satisfied sigh from my chest. “This was a great idea.”
She moves her hair to one side and leans back against my chest and relaxes into our touch. I wrap my arms around her and hold her for the first time in over ten years, then I reach for the washcloth on the edge of the tub, dip it in the water, and trail it slowly across her shoulders.
She hums as I trail the washcloth over her back, rubbing small circles, then I press a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder. Her skin tastes like steam and all the lost moments I wished we’d had together.
“I missed this,” I murmur against her skin.
She reaches for my free hand and kisses my fingers, making my stomach flip and flop. “Me too.”
The conversation starts light and before I know it, we’re laughing and carrying on like we did over a decade ago. Back then, we would talk about anything, easily bouncing between salacious and serious without discomfort.
She asks about my father, so I tell her stories I haven’t shared in years. How he’d burn the smoked turkey every Thanksgiving but refused to let anyone else cook it and how he taught me how to drive and how I nearly took out the neighbor’s mailbox.
“I always liked Darrel. He was such a good guy,” Charlotte says.
The corners of my eyes crinkle at the memories. “He was.”
“I wish I’d known him better. Remember the time he caught us smoking weed in your car? Thank god he didn’t tell my parents. It was my first time smoking, and just my luck, I got caught.”
I almost spit out my hot chocolate. “You were so high. You talked about streetlights and color psychology for twenty minutes, sounding like a mad scientist.”
“He said he wouldn’t arrest us if we could roll a joint better than him.”
I wipe my eyes. “And we failed miserably! I think getting arrested would’ve been easier. My dad blackmailed me into doing every single chore until I graduated. My mom didn’t touch a laundry basket for years. What a wild night.”
“Don’t remind me. I helped you clean your creepy attic.” She covers her mouth, unable to contain her giggling. “I’m still embarrassed about the whole thing.”
We taper off into a comfortable silence, then I add, “He would’ve loved seeing you again. He always asked about you, even after—”
“I got engaged?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “What did you tell him?”
“That you looked happy and that you deserve to be.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Even if it wasn’t with me.”
She intertwines our fingers.
Our conversation switches to easier topics. Charlotte shares about the time she went to hot springs in Japan, then, I tell her about Ember’s first day of training and how she snuck into Paige’s office and ate half her work anniversary cake.
I didn’t notice that the water had gone lukewarm until Charlotte reached forward and twisted the hot water handle.
Steam rises as fresh heat pours in. Getting lost in conversation like this reminds me of our late night talks in the car when we dated.
We’d chat for hours, where we were free from the rest of the world.
Life seemed so simple back then, even though that was far from the truth.
A grin tugs at my lips as I recall first seeing her again on the side of the highway.
Our relationship was wonderful, but I love getting to know Charlotte all over again now.
A long silence stretches between us. She scoops up bubbles in her hand and blows them toward her feet as I trail more water across her arms. She speaks first. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.” I feel her take a deep exhale, then there’s a long pause.
“I went looking for you,” she finally says, voice barely above a whisper. “At my wedding.”
I freeze. The washcloth falls from my hand into the water. “What?” I blink. “When?”
She stays facing forward. “An hour before I was supposed to walk down the aisle.” She swallows.
“I finished getting ready. My dress and makeup were on. My hair was done. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.
I thought it was typical wedding day jitters, but while standing in front of the mirror, all I could think about was you. ”
My chest tightens. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“Clara noticed something was off.” Her voice shakes. “She cleared everyone out of the room and asked me what was wrong. I told her I was still in love with you.”
The lump in my throat is back. My eyes are burning. “You did?”
She nods. “I thought she was going to call me an idiot, but she told me to go before it was too late. So I ran.”
My jaw tightens as tears well up. “Charlotte—” I halt my words, unsure where to start. My mind spins as I retrace every footstep I took on her wedding day.
She takes a shaky breath. “I panicked. I flew down two flights of stairs in my wedding dress out the back door where you said—joked about meeting. But you weren’t there, Kez. You were gone.”
My vision blurs, and when I feel Charlotte sob, tears stream down my face. All this time, she was the brave one, and I was the coward?
She cries quietly in my arms and continues, “I broke down in some back alley. I was a fucking mess. Clara found me and snuck me back to the room. She calmed me down, then asked if I still wanted to marry him.”
“What did you say?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.
“I said yes,” she manages through a sob. “Because what else was I supposed to do? You were gone. Eli was waiting. Three hundred guests were sitting downstairs. The cake alone cost almost half my dress. Every piece was perfectly in place, except for me.”
She walked down the aisle instead of into my arms. My chest aches. My tears won’t stop. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.” The same words keep falling out of my mouth, as if they would change anything.
All I can do is hold her and rest my head against her and weep.
Every time I try to speak, my heart breaks all over again.
Charlotte’s been carrying so much for so long.
My chest aches seeing her soul laid bare in front of me.
Of all the years I’ve known her, I’ve only seen her cry twice. Both times at funerals.
Perhaps sometimes things have to end in order for us to become who we’re meant to be.
Otherwise, Charlotte wouldn’t be sitting here in front of me after all of these years.
She made choice after choice for someone else’s benefit.
Meanwhile, she was withering away. Then it hits me.
This cabin isn’t just for her to make a comfortable living or even for her clients.
This place is a new life. One where she starts again, but this time fully herself.
This cabin is hers, but it’s also mine. I blink and return to the present.
Charlotte wipes her eyes. “Eli was a good husband. He loved me. I loved him.”
I silently watch her turn until she’s facing me. Her eyes are bloodshot, face wet with tears.
Her voice drops to a murmur. “He just wasn’t you.”
I rest my forehead against hers. I can barely breathe, let alone look at her. We’re sobbing in the lukewarm water. We sit like this for minutes.
“I was there,” I choke my words out, my stomach sick from all the years we’ve lost because of me.
She looks up, disbelief in her eyes. “What?”
“I went to that alley, Charlotte.” I squeeze my eyes shut and place both hands on her cheeks. “I left because I thought you wouldn’t actually come. I thought I was being stupid and selfish and that you deserved better than me showing up days before your wedding day—”
“You left?” Her voice is hollow.
“Yes.” I dip my head, sobbing again, barely able to finish my words. “Five, maybe ten minutes before you got there. We just missed each other. I should never have left. I am so fucking sorry.”
We sit in silence for a long time. Neither of us moves in the cold water.