42. Henry and Charlotte
At long last, using the key Charlotte had given him, Henry let himself into her house, craving the comfort and peace that he could only find with her.
Disappointed to find her gone from the dance, he was hoping to find her still awake, but his shoulders fell when he entered her bedroom to find her curled on her side in bed, aglow from moonlight streaming in through the French doors, with the sheets tangled around her waist. Heartbeat accelerating at the sight of her wearing his undershirt, her chest straining the cotton, he fumbled to remove his own clothing.
In just his boxers, he slipped into bed behind her, spooning her as closely as he could.
“Henry.” Half asleep, the heat from his chest burned into her back, “I was having the most delicious dream about you, and now you’re here.” Without him next to her, she had tossed and turned.
“I’m here,” he assured her, every emotion from today charging through him: joy, shock, sadness, guilt, and betrayal; the anger he had pushed away once he crossed into the bedroom.
With Charlotte, could he find the clarity he desperately needed?
Fingers on the soft swell of her stomach, he groaned as her bottom dug into his groin when she scooted even closer to him.
“Charlotte,” he breathed into her ear, her small hoop earring tickling his mouth.
With his solid strength behind her, still drowsy from her dream of him, she awoke aroused and ground herself into the evidence that he felt the same.
His hand drifted from her stomach, over her hips, across her thighs, and she opened her knees to grant him better access, desiring him to the point of madness.
Lush thighs enveloped his hand, he shivered, discovering she was ready for him.
Rolling onto her back, her hands reached for the hem of the tank she wore, ready to pull it off, when he stilled her.
“Don’t,” he commanded, his voice husky with need.
Ripe and sensual, the sight of her in his shirt drove him to insanity.
“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.
” His lips descended to the swells of her breasts as his thumbs dragged down her underwear, his fingers seeking her heat.
Charlotte tugged insistently at his hair, but she couldn’t deter Henry, and his mouth followed his hands, her hips lifting from the bed.
“Henry,” she implored, until he rose above her quivering form, with her thighs in his hands.
They matched each other, thrust for thrust, her cloudy brown gaze capturing his stormy blue one.
“I love you,” she thought, and he collapsed into her arms.
“Charlotte, if that was too rough or if you weren’t expecting—”
“Shh,” she interrupted, his head on her chest, her hand stroking his back.
“I knew you’d come to me. When I woke up with you here—” Tears clogged her voice, and she was afraid to continue in case her emotions overwhelmed him.
He’d already dealt with so much and didn’t need the burden of her expressing the depth of her feelings.
“Hey.” He raised his head, thumbing a tear from the corner of her eye. “What’s the matter?”
Unable to keep what she had gleaned tonight to herself, she admitted, “I know, Henry.”
Henry stilled, his hand cupping Charlotte’s cheek. Dread filled him. “Know what?” Could she have found out about Sophie? Had she seen Melanie with him? What would her reaction be to it all?
“I know about your daughter, Henry…Sophie.” Charlotte ached with empathy. “I was coming to find you, and I heard you outside.”
Bringing himself up on his elbow, he met her eyes; the chocolate orbs swam with understanding. “You did?”
“I’m so sorry. Just finding out now, after all these years, I can’t imagine how you must feel.
I’m assuming her mother is…Melanie?” A shadow crossed Henry’s handsome face.
Was any of this her business? Should she have waited for him to tell her?
“Never mind,” she rushed on, “we don’t have to talk about it.
” She regretted they hadn’t discussed their relationship before now, ironed out what they were to each other, because she had no claim on his information.
Sitting up against Charlotte’s headboard, with the sheet at his waist, he confirmed, “Sophie. She’s my daughter.
” His hand held Charlotte’s. “And yes, Melanie is Sophie’s mom.
It seems that when my ex-wife left us, she was pregnant.
Claims she had no choice. At least, that’s what she said tonight.
” Disgust bloomed in Henry once again for his ex and her excuses, after spending too long outside listening to her, with mascara staining her face, when the only truth he needed to know was that she had kept his daughter from him.
Had it not been for Sophie figuring it out, he would still be in the dark about her.
“Tonight? What do you mean?” Apprehensive, her stomach twisted. “Did you talk to her?”
Dragging a hand over his face, knowing there was no way to avoid it, he confirmed, “Yes. She showed up tonight.”
“What? Here?” It was one thing for him to hear from her on the phone, but for Melanie to have the audacity to show up in person? Henry had been right all along to be worried, Charlotte thought.
“When I was outside with Sophie and Josh, somehow she found us and started in on me right away. Accused me of making her feel trapped and confused, which is why she left me…why she kept my daughter from me. Said she never fit in with my family, that no one cared about her. She also said she was wasting away in Clover Lake and that I stole her dreams from her.”
Thinking back on her own shock at discovering that she was pregnant at eighteen, Charlotte couldn’t help but identify with some of what Melanie must have felt back then: all hopes for her future gone, all her self-worth determined instead by her value as a parent and wife.
And then having to face another unplanned pregnancy?
It would overwhelm anyone. Trying to ease some of Henry’s pain, she gently told him, “I’m obviously not agreeing that she had a right to blame you, but I guess I can understand, a little, what must have been going through her mind. ”
Henry recoiled. “What was going through her mind was the idea that she should abandon our son and leave with my unborn child. All because she had some childish dream of moving to Hollywood.” He choked out a laugh.
“I mean, how ridiculous does that sound? How juvenile? If she had been open with me, we could have talked it through. I could have helped her, made her remember that I once had dreams, too. Dreams that I gave up for her…for our family…but she never cared about those, or what I went through.” Covering his face with his hands, he gave himself over to his grief.
“She kept my child from me, Charlotte, and instead of apologizing, at the very least, she insinuated it was my fault.”
With Charlotte’s own tears streaming, she questioned, “Is that why she’s been calling you?”
Henry held his breath, hoping he’d misheard Charlotte. He’d been so careful, hadn’t he? “What do you mean?” Why had he said that? Why hadn’t he just admitted the truth now, when he had the chance?
“It’s okay, Henry, I know Melanie has been calling you…texting you. Ruth and Tess let it slip at the dance.” Her eyes on him, she saw the guilt flash across his face. “I wish you had said something. I could have been there for you. If I’m being honest, it hurt when they told me. I guess I thought…”
Her brown eyes gleamed with hurt, and shame filled him.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte. You’re right, I should have been honest with you.
It’s just…her phone calls were so vague, she never said anything concrete, the same as her texts.
I just thought she was trying to annoy me…
get under my skin.” Even now, when he and Charlotte should be relishing the afterglow of their lovemaking, Melanie was a dark cloud.
“All she does is bring up old hurts. It’s like she gets off telling me how everyone slighted her when we were married, accusing me of not paying attention to her, of ignoring her feelings.
If I’d had any indication that the reason she was contacting me was to let me in on the fact I had a daughter, I might have been a bit more receptive.
” Growing more agitated, Henry sprang to his feet, grabbing his clothes from the floor.
Discussing his ex while in bed naked with the woman he loved didn’t sit right with him.
Was Henry upset with her? Charlotte’s parents had rarely argued, maybe because she was an only child, or they were older, or they had enough money; whatever the reason.
In her own marriage, nothing, really, ever seemed important enough for them to fight over.
It unsettled her that Henry was so angry with Melanie, probably because she could sympathize with her in some ways.
Melanie was just a child, really, when she moved to Henry’s hometown.
The two teenagers had only known each other for a couple of months before getting married.
She and Brady had known each other most of their lives, and they had still been unprepared for building a family or becoming adults together.
“And what about Diadema?” Charlotte was still troubled learning about his feelings for her, no matter how long ago it was. How had that affected Melanie’s fragile sense of self? Even now, decades later, when he was no longer “in love with” the other woman, she still affected him.
Henry shot Charlotte a befuddled look. “DD?” Why would Charlotte be asking about her?
“Yes, what role did she play in Melanie leaving?” Unable to watch his reaction, she smoothed the sheets around her.
Henry let out an exasperated laugh and declared, “Absolutely none! She was barely around. Mellie hardly knew her.”
Mellie? Another nickname, another woman, and the parallels between the two women from his past disturbed her. “According to what I heard from Ruth and Tess, Melanie was convinced you still had feelings for Diadema.” A slight pause, and then she forced her eyes to his face. “Did you?”
Henry shook his head. “No! I swear to you, no. Whatever I felt for her was gone when I met Melanie.” Henry sat down on the edge of the bed, aware that he was probably overly sensitive after the events of tonight.
All he wanted was to be with Charlotte: kind, sensitive, brilliant, and for some reason, fighting a fight that wasn’t hers.
“Why are you bringing this up? You know I don’t care for DD. ”
“That’s why—I don’t know that! You have dropped everything for her, more than once, and even after I practically engraved an invitation for you, I still didn’t hear from you for months.
” At his confused look, she reminded him, “That day in the diner, when you were with Diadema. I told you to call me. But you didn’t.
” Not stopping until she’d let it all out, she continued, “I had to throw myself at you in the coffee shop instead, a year later. Because I wanted you—wanted to get to know you, to get close to you…to be with you.”
Henry crawled over her comforter to take her hand. “That’s what I wanted, too. You were the only woman-”
“But I wasn’t, was I? Not if you all but ignored me so you could rescue Diadema.” Distressed, she threw her hands up in the air. “Frankly, Henry, if this is even a portion of what Melanie felt, I can see why she left.”
As if physically attacked, Henry’s head snapped back.
“Wow. Okay. Siding with my ex-wife was not what I thought you would do. I can’t—” Stumbling to his feet, Henry couldn’t keep the pain from his voice when he spoke.
“I put my life on hold for Melanie. Do you think I wanted to be a mechanic my entire life? I was supposed to go to college…medical school. I wanted to be a doctor. Melanie didn’t care, not once, about what I gave up.
Then I had to start my life over—made Josh start his over, too—when she left us.
” Choking on his own tears, he forced himself to keep talking, “I made him lie about his mother, tell everyone here that she had died instead of admitting she walked out on us! And now I find out the reason she did that was because she couldn’t bear the idea of raising another child with me.
As if life with me was so terrible. And now to have you sympathize with her…
side with her? I thought you cared about me, Charlotte!
” Bereft, he slid his feet into his shoes.
“Henry, no!” Too tangled in the sheets to race after him, he was out of her house by the time she finally freed herself enough to put her shorts on.
“Henry!” Begging the fates to have him still in her driveway, she called out again, “Henry,” as she twisted the handle on her door, only to witness him turning the corner on the next block, disappearing from her sight in the early dawn.
What had she done? Weeping as her legs collapsed under her, she regretted ever saying anything about Melanie or Diadema.
“I do care about you, Henry,” she sobbed to the closed door.
“I love you.” Her confession fruitless now, she doubted he would ever look past this, not after what had been said, or how she had made him feel.