Chapter 7 – Jace
JACE
Sitting down on the couch, I lean forward and open one of the pizza boxes as soon as Charlie sets them down on the coffee table, taking a slice for myself and shoving it in my mouth right as our team scores a try on the TV.
“How nice of you to wait for me,” Charlie teases when he sits down, knocking his shoulder against mine as he grabs himself a slice. Pausing with the pizza halfway to my mouth, my eyes are drawn to the stretch of exposed skin as his shirt rides up when he leans forward.
Suddenly, piping hot cheese and pepperoni land in my lap and I hiss out, quickly wiping it off before it burns me and my cheeks heat up as Charlie chuckles.
“Ya supposed to eat it, not wear it.” He smirks, tipping his head back, his tongue sticking out as he lowers the slice into his mouth and the sight has my dick hardening.
“Fuck off,” I say half-heartedly, refocusing on the TV and my own food, willing my semi to settle down.
Despite living together for six years, we haven’t crossed that like yet.
To say it’s been the furthest thing from my mind wouldn’t exactly be true, there’s definitely been moments throughout the years where, like now, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him, my mind going back to the one and only time we slept together as teens.
I’m not the only one either, there’s definitely been times where I’ve caught Charlie looking at me with just as much hunger, but he hasn’t acted on it either, always patient. Always understanding. It’s a little infuriating how perfect he is sometimes.
He's been there through it all. Through the highs and the lows as I’ve worked with my doctors and psychiatrists to find the right balance of meds and therapy that work for me.
He reminds me to be kind and patient with myself when I have relapses.
Which still happen, even after six years.
But they are at a point where they aren’t common anymore. Progress, I guess.
The hardest thing was convincing myself that it doesn’t make me a failure, that I can still do something with my life.
When we were younger, the three of us had dreams of running our own vet clinic. Bonnie would be the veterinarian, I’d be her vet nurse, and Charlie would manage the business side of things. We even had a name – Bee’s Vet Clinic.
But it didn’t feel right doing it without Bonnie, and Charlie agreed. He ended up getting a boring job in a boring company whilst I went back to construction work.
It took a while, but I ended up studying for my vert II and III in animal care because whilst it didn’t feel right to pursue our old dreams without Bonnie, it didn’t mean I couldn’t do something in that field to feel closer to her.
That’s how I stumbled across pet grooming, and I started doing it in my spare time for friends and volunteering at nearby shelters.
It was Charlie that suggested I turn it into a business; he showed me videos of a girl in Canada who’s able to offer free grooming to animals in need because she records and uploads her grooms to social media and makes money that way.
It seemed like a long shot, but to be able to help animals who desperately need it all while bringing awareness to people around the country is something that really resonates with me.
Then there's the added chance Bonnie could stumble across one of my videos. It's a slim chance, but still a chance.
We spent weeks researching and planning until finally Bee Rose Furr-Ever was born. Not the most creative name and yeah, it’s a little dorky, but it’s our way of including her in it. She was our bumblebee and after a stint with a few rose bushes, we were her roses.
So, between the business and Charlie still working to cover expenses, plus our determination to single-handedly follow every lead Mia found on Bonnie ourselves, we just…haven’t gone there.
Mia tried to warn us. She tried telling us the mental toll our insistence to track down every lead would take on us. That this could take months or even years, but we were so adamant, so stubborn and determined to be the first ones to lay eyes on her that we refused to listen.
But…she was right. Every lead we followed, and every door that opened that didn’t have Bonnie standing behind it, killed another piece of us until it all bubbled over and I realised I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t stand on another doorstep to have my heart broken again and again and again.
I couldn’t watch Charlie push his own grief aside to help me deal with mine again. To say it was a very difficult and emotional conversation would be putting it mildly. It is argubale one of the hardest coversations I've ever had. Still, we had it.
“I can’t do this anymore…” my words ring through the empty silence that follows, so I quickly start the car up and drive off. Probably best not to stick around anyhow, given that poor woman has likely already called the cops.
Honestly, I wouldn’t blame her.
The silence continues as the minutes pass by, houses turning to trees, turning to houses once again until we’re finally pulling into our driveway. Turning the ignition off, neither one of us make a move to get out.
We just sit there in the heavy silence until I finally get out of the car, sighing as I make my way to the front door. Blinking the tears from my eyes, I fumble with the keys, trying to find the right one but they slip out of my hand, falling to the ground.
I dig the heel of my palms into my eyes, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself. A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump, spinning around to find Charlie with his own tear-filled eyes.
How many times are we going to do this?
“Are you okay?” he asks, and the question has my heart breaking a little more. Yet again, he’s worrying about me, comforting me.
“No, no I’m not. We can’t keep doing this Charlie,” I snap, the words making me feel sick as they leave my mouth. It feels like I’m giving up on her, like I’m failing her all over again. Like I believe she’s not out there to be found.
“What?” I hate the pain that one word carries, the hurt and heartbreak written so clearly on his face that I almost take it back, but this isn’t just for me. It’s for him too. “What do you mean, we can’t keep doing this?”
“I mean, we can’t keep doing this-”
“You want to stop looking for her?” he interrupts, and I shake my head, the thought of giving up on Bonnie cuts deeper than I can comprehend.
“No, of course not. But…when does it end? How many more doors are we going to knock, only to be crushed when she’s not behind it?”
“As many as it takes! We keep going until we find her.”
“And how much of us is going to be left if- when – we do?” He freezes at my words, and I quickly scoop up the keys, unlocking the front door and heading inside rather than face my slip up.
“You said if.” His footsteps follow me into the house, but I can’t bring myself to turn around and face him. “You’ve already given up…you don’t think we’ll find her, do you?”
“That is not what I said. Do not put words in my mouth, Charlie.”
“That’s what you’re thinking though, isn’t it? Otherwise, why would you want to stop? Why would you say if?”
“That’s not- I didn’t-" Sighing, I turn around and face Charlie, planting my feet in the middle of the loungeroom. “What are we?”
He looks taken aback by my abrupt question, a deep furrow forming between his brows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are we to each other? Friends? Roommates? More? What do I mean to you?”
His eyes flick between mine. He’s quiet for several long beats before he finally answers, his earlier tears falling down his face once more. “You mean everything to me.”
“And you mean everything to me,” I say, taking his hands and guiding both of us to the lounge. “I love you Charlie, I always have. That’s why I can’t watch you pretend you’re okay every time we come home without her. You hide it for my sake, but I see it. I see a piece of you dying every time.
“How much of us is left? Last time it took Ariana and the guys storming in and literally dragging us out of bed. We shut everyone out including each other. We didn’t eat; we didn’t go to work. I didn’t take my meds; you didn’t answer your phone, even for your parents.
“I can’t take another round of that, and Charlie, neither can you.
I’m not saying we stop looking for her. Fuck, I don’t ever want to stop looking for her.
But I do think it’s time we let Mia do her job.
I think we need to take a step back and let her take over.
For both of our sakes, but also for Bonnie.
What good are we to her if there’s nothing left of us when we do find her? ”
He's silent for so long I start to panic. What if I just made a horrible mistake? What if I lose him?
Fuck, what did I just do?
“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, and for a second I think I’ve imagined it, but he meets my eyes and repeats it, this time louder. “Okay.
It's a coversation I've been struggling not to feel guilty over ever since. It sometimes feels like he only agreed for me. But I do still feel like it was the right decision to step back and let Mia take over. That night was a turning point for us.
I was so scared I’d fucked up and lost him, but instead of going to two separate rooms, we climbed into the same bed and just held each other all night. And have every night since.
We haven’t done anything more than hold each other, but as he pulls his shirt back down, I can’t help but want more. Shifting in my seat, I try to subtly adjust myself as we watch the last few minutes of the footy match.
The second the counter hits zero, I’m standing up, grabbing the now empty pizza boxes and walking around the back of the couch to hide my semi so I can toss them in the bin.
“I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed. I’m beat,” I call over my shoulder, heading for the bathroom.