17. Chapter 17 #2
Charlie slowed, then stopped at the footbridge above Floria. Beneath them, the dark stream rushed by.
She rested a palm on the wooden railing, leaning forward slightly, her other hand still in his.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. Her eyes were bright and luminous in the soft light from the streetlamp.
“I was thinking about us,” he said. “I seem to be doing a lot of that.”
It was as good a starting point as any. He couldn’t continue ignoring the proverbial elephant in the room. Too often, in their past together, he’d chosen silence. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake now.
They were going to have to talk at some point—really talk to each other. And if that made her run … maybe that was for the better. Regardless of how much it hurt.
“What about us?” she asked, her voice hesitant this time.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. His jaw tightened, but he pushed the next words through. “But I don’t want to lose this again.”
Her fingers tightened on the wooden railing.
“You didn’t lose me, Lorenz.”
“I messed up.”
She gave a startled laugh. “You? When?”
He pushed through the dryness in his throat. “Six—almost seven—years ago.”
This time, her fingers left his. Now, both her hands clutched the wooden railing. “We both made mistakes then.”
“No,” he said firmly. “The mistake was all mine,” he said, finally baring his soul. “You have no idea how many times I’ve wished I could take those words back.”
“Lorenz …”
Maybe it was better to have this conversation now, in the semi-darkness. Where he could hide from his shame, even as he admitted it out loud.
“Stop,” she begged. He felt her body stiffen beside him. But even then, he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
“We’ll have other babies.” He coughed dryly. “That’s what I said. That’s when I lost you.”
Charlie’s face lost color.
“And you’re bringing it up now … why, Lorenz? What are you looking for? Forgiveness?”
Not really.
“I didn’t think you’d forgive me. I hoped you’d forgive me,” he corrected. God, this hurt. Everything hurt. He could feel her pulling away already.
“Because I’m nice, right?” she snarled.
Her anger hit him like a slam to the solar plexus.
Nice?
He’d never once thought of her as nice.
Charlie stared at him, her expression fierce. Except she also looked small and fragile, standing out here on the bridge. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, but knew she wouldn’t appreciate it.
“I don’t think you’re nice,” Lorenz said. “I think you’re courageous, kind, and strong. Not nice.”
* * *
Charlie
Oh.
Her anger deflated and scattered.
Strong. Kind. Courageous.
Even as she felt herself thawing, she knew she shouldn’t be giving in.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he was back in her life, talking about the past and the future, making her think thoughts she had no right to be thinking.
She sneaked a look at him—at his tight, square jaw, those green eyes shimmering with emotion. He had to know how good he looked. Except she wasn’t sure he did. He seemed to have no idea what he did to her—how badly she wanted to touch him, to get close to his warmth and strength.
And the way he looked at her … it was the way he’d always looked at her. Like she mattered. But it was also new, because he looked at her like it was the current her he wanted. Not the old Charlie.
But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough between them, because old secrets would always stand between them. And there were things she couldn’t say—things she knew she’d never be able to say out loud, just like she’d never be able to forget them.
“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about this, Lorenz,” she finally said.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
“I’m sorry I said that, Charlie. It was tactless. It was crass. I didn’t mean it.”
Her breath hitched. “You did mean it, Lorenz.”
“Forgive me.”
Forgive him? For what? For wanting another baby, after their baby passed away?
“There’s nothing to forgive, Lorenz …”
This, at least, was true. There was nothing to forgive. When he said that, he couldn’t have known she’d never be able to do that. That she’d never be able to get pregnant again—to give him another baby.
Tell him.
Tell him why you let him go.
Tell him now.
But the words stuck in the back of her throat. Words from so long ago, that she didn’t know how to speak them anymore.
He misunderstood her silence, just like he’d misunderstood it so many years ago.
She hadn’t divorced her out of anger. She’d divorced him because she loved him—because he’d wanted a baby just as much as she had, and she’d realized she’d never be able to give him that.
“I shouldn’t have said it,” he repeated obsessively. His handsome features twisted in anguish. “I … I miss him too. Our baby.” He reached out to her, his long fingers intertwining with hers, curling up so their two hands became one. “And I miss you. I miss us.”
Charlie’s breath hitched. He’d never said that before. Not like this.
“Lorenz, please,” she begged. “You’re killing me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Charlie. Not ever again.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. She’d never seen him cry before—even when he arrived at the hospital to find their baby gone, he hadn’t cried. He’d held her stoically, but hadn’t shed a tear.
His head came down to touch hers. They stood there, on the bridge, hands together, foreheads together, for the longest time. Breathing together.
“Lorenz …” she whispered. She had to tell him. She had to—
A shrill sound saved her from having to figure out what she wanted to say. Lorenz jumped back awkwardly, bringing out his phone.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
“It’s okay,” Charlie said.
Her heart sped up as she listened to bits of the conversation.