20. Chapter 20
Charlie
T hrough half-closed lids, Charlie saw Lorenz pull the car into a parking spot right across from his apartment.
“You awake?” he asked softly.
A part of Charlie wanted to pretend she was asleep. It was nice here, in his warm car, with the comforting rumbling of the engine, and Lorenz sitting right beside her. She wanted to pretend she was asleep, so she wouldn’t have to say what needed to be said. But she’d been a coward long enough.
“I’m awake,” she said, turning to look at him.
His gaze moved over her face in that quiet, assessing way of his. Then he nodded. “Come, let’s get you inside. You still look chilled.”
She was chilled. But not her body. Lorenz had covered her with a dry blanket and turned the heating on high. He had to be roasting, but the warmth felt lovely to her. If only she wasn’t feeling so cold inside.
Lorenz unlocked the apartment and stepped aside to let her in first.
The apartment smelled faintly of cedarwood, laundry detergent, and something uniquely Lorenz she couldn't have described if she'd tried.
Safety .
The realization caught her off guard.
She slipped off her Crocs but left on the socks.
"Sit," he said quietly, nodding toward the enormous couch. "I'll make some tea."
Her muscles, tight for what felt like hours, loosened against the cushions. Only then did she realize how exhausted she was. Every part of her ached. Her chest and back burned from being pulled.
The kettle clicked on in the kitchen.
She’d barely closed her eyes when Lorenz was back, setting two steaming mugs on the coffee table in front of her.
"Careful," he said. "It's hot."
Their fingers brushed. She lifted his hand, noticing for the first time the angry red marks the rope had left across his palms. He hadn’t said anything.
“Val should have looked at this.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Really.”
His hand squeezed hers gently, before letting go.
She'd forgotten how impossible it was not to react to him.
She wrapped both hands around the mug, welcoming the heat.
"Thank you."
He disappeared into the hallway for a moment before returning with a thick blanket, draping it over her legs.
"You don't have to—"
"I know." His voice was gentle. "Please humor me. You have no idea how scared I was."
Charlie looked down into her tea.
The steam curled upward, blurring her vision.
She took a slow sip, buying herself a few seconds. The warmth spread through her chest.
Lorenz sat next to her on the couch, watching her.
"You look better. Why don't you finish your tea? Then you should try to get some sleep."
“No,” she said, her voice coming out thinner than she’d intended.
“No?”
“Please. I need to tell you something and … I’d rather tell you here.”
In case you don’t want me in your home afterwards .
Lorenz didn’t argue. He turned so that his shoulders faced her. “What is it, Charlie?”
“Maybe … maybe I should go back to my place,” she finally said.
Coward.
That’s not it.
That’s not what you need to say.
Lorenz’s jaw tightened. “Please don’t do this, Charlie. Not tonight.”
And she hated—absolutely hated—that she was about to hurt him much, much worse.
She steeled herself for what she had to say, but Lorenz surprised her by speaking first.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I understand why you can’t forgive me. I … I just want you to know that I would give my right hand to change what happened. I wasn’t there for you when you lost our baby, and that’s something I’ll never forgive myself for. But please don’t leave. Not tonight.”
Our baby .
The words threatened to bring her to her knees.
But she had to stay strong. Because he’d clearly been living with a load he didn’t deserve to live with. And that was something she could take from him—right now.
Charlie grabbed his larger hand in her own, squeezing harshly before remembering his injury.
“No. You were in training. I understood, Lorenz. Even then, I understood. I’m sorry if you feel I blamed you. I’m sorry if—“
“No,” he said, his voice harsh. “Don’t apologize. Don’t apologize. The way I treated you, afterwards … the things I said …”
Charlie frowned. What was he talking about?
She didn’t like Lorenz’s pained expression.
She didn’t want him to hurt.
Maybe she should have waited to have this conversation until the next day. Until exhaustion wasn’t pressing in on her from all sides. Until she could read his expression properly. But no, it was better to talk now. Better for both of them.
“We both made mistakes, Lorenz,” she said.
“No,” he said firmly. “The mistake was all mine. Those words,” he said, and his voice was ragged, coming from his very soul, “were the biggest mistake of my life. You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined what life would be like if I hadn’t said them out loud.”
“Stop, Lorenz. Please.” Because she couldn’t bear to hear him say those words again.
Lorenz
Charlie’s face lost all color. She braced her hands against her knees, but that only made the tremors she struggled to hide more evident.
“Charlie …” he said.
He stopped.
What could he say?
Once again, he’d managed to break something.
He could feel her pulling away already.
“Charlie, please. I’m sorry.” The words, weak and inadequate as they were, scraped out from deep within him. “I should have said it a long time ago.”
Almost seven years too late, but he’d say the words now, as many times as it took. Until she had no choice but to believe him.
She raised her eyes, her expression fierce.
“You’ve got this all wrong, Lorenz.”
He stilled.
“I didn’t leave because I was angry, or because I couldn’t forgive you.” The soft column in her neck moved as she swallowed. “What you said that night hit home … but it was for a different reason.”
He reached for her hand on instinct, but she pulled hers back immediately, putting her hand back on the blanket on her lap.
“No. Let me finish. You might not want to hold my hand when I’m done.”
Cold traced down his spine. “What … what are you talking about, Charlie?”
“The only excuse I have is that I was younger. I was hurting. We both were. So I didn’t tell you the truth.” Her eyes filled with tears, and he wanted so badly to reach out to her, but forced himself to stay still as she continued. “After we lost our baby … I couldn’t have any more.”
“I wasn’t saying we should have a baby right then. That’s not what I—”
Charlie’s face grew stony.
“You still don’t understand, Lorenz.” She took a deep breath. “After the miscarriage, I was told I wouldn’t have more children. Ever.”
His breath left his lungs. It felt like missing a step at the end of a long descent, your body expecting ground that wasn’t there.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough. I made you think …” She let out a quiet sigh. “Who knows what I made you think. But this is the truth, Lorenz. I wasn’t going to be able to give you the family you deserve.”
Her shoulders drooped forward, and she stared at her hands as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.
For a long instant, nothing made sense. He understood each individual word she’d said, but not the shape they formed all together.
His body forgot how to breathe. His vision blurred, stars forming behind his eyes.