Chapter 39 - Andie
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Andie
The next morning, warmth surrounds me as Spencer’s embrace pulls me from sleep. I take in the adoration on his face as he absentmindedly strokes my hair. The simple gesture soothes something deep inside me I didn’t realize needed soothing.
“You know, some people might find it a little creepy having someone watch them sleep,” I tease, my voice still husky. That earns me a smile from him, but truth be told, I like when he watches me. It makes me feel . . . cherished. Something I have been missing for a long time.
“I can’t help watching someone so beautiful sleep in my arms,” he replies, as his fingers gently play with my hair.
This guy is a charmer. How did I get so lucky? He always knows exactly what to say, like he’s reading from some Perfect Boyfriend Manual I didn’t know existed.
“You wanna talk about what happened last night?” His voice is careful, trying not to scare me off.
“Not really.” The words come out automatically, my default setting when it comes to discussing anything painful.
His movements stop. Heat from his gaze settles on me while he waits.
He wants me to talk, and this time his question was rhetorical.
Maybe I should. Maybe it will help. But I hate reliving the pain.
This is the part where I’d normally change the subject or find an excuse to leave the room. Classic Andie avoidance technique number twenty-seven.
“Andie, you said you couldn’t save me,” he persists gently. “What happened in that dream?”
Pulling away from his embrace, I angle myself to look directly at him. His eyes are full of pain making my resistance crumble.
“It was the same dream I always have, with the flames, but this time it was different.” I swallow hard.
The words stick in my throat, and it takes everything I have to release them.
“This time, it wasn’t Cody I lost—it was you.
You were the one taken away from me.” With the weight of the words, I could practically see his heart shattering from my confession as he releases the breath he was holding.
“Oh, Sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.
You’re stuck with me.” He pulls me back in, sealing his promise with a kiss that feels both tender and unbreakable.
Believing him sounds wonderful. Like really wonderful.
And I want to believe him. But the universe seems to be making me work to keep the ones I love.
We take our time getting out of bed and go our separate ways for the morning.
Spencer said he and Evan will work at the house so they can make calls and attend Zoom meetings on the investment project they’re in the middle of.
It’s a lot for him to alter all of his work plans, but he’s fortunate enough he can run his business from anywhere.
Charlie and I agreed to meet at the lawyer’s office.
The thought of facing him after last night’s tension isn’t filling me with joy, but it’s necessary.
Abby left a note for me on the counter before leaving for her morning run: “Andie, we need to talk. How about lunch at our favorite place, say 1:00? Text me.”
Great. More talking. If I could hide away and not address any of these crucial conversations that would be appreciated.
Whatever she wants to discuss almost certainly involves Spencer. Just as thoughts of escaping cross my mind, a knock sounds at the door. Charlie stands there holding two cups of coffee. A peace offering, maybe?
“Hey, I figured we could just ride together. You ready?” His tone stays carefully neutral.
“Yeah, let me just tell Spencer I’m leaving.”
Spencer appears from the bedroom, almost like he heard his name.
I watch as the guys do that random head nod, but I can see the strain on Charlie’s face.
He’s clearly trying to keep his promise to give Spencer a chance but watching him emerge from my bedroom is testing every ounce of that commitment.
Tension fills the room, it’s so thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it.
“I’ll wait in the car,” Charlie says, turning and heading outside without another word.
“Spencer, we’ll be back in a little while. Make yourself comfortable. Text me if you need anything at all. Maddie knows where the car keys are if you need to get out. See you after lunch.”
“We’ll be fine. Call me if you need anything,” he replies, his eyes conveying much more than his words.
“Good luck with the grump out there, Andie!” Evan’s voice carries from across the room.
“Bye, Evan. Keep an eye on Spence, please.”
“You know it,” he calls back with a salute that manages to be both playful and reassuring.
“Heads up, though—Charlie looks like he’s about to blow a gasket out there.
I can see the smoke coming out of his ears from here through the window.
Maybe we should get him one of those little anger management stress balls. Do they make firefighter themed ones?”
Spencer shoots him a warning look. “Evan . . .”
“What? I’m just saying, the dude’s been sitting out there gripping that steering wheel like it owes him money.” Evan peers out the window again. “Think he practices that death glare in the mirror, or is it natural talent?”
“Okay, I’m leaving now.” I kiss Spencer on the cheek and hurry toward the car before Evan can make this situation any more awkward than it already is.
The car ride is dead silent as Charlie stares intensely at the road, hands still clenching the steering wheel.
No smile graces his face. No happiness lights up his eyes.
Breaking the silence feels risky but figuring out why he’s angry seems like the logical thing to do. “Okay, Charlie, I can’t take this. What’s wrong now?” Remaining quiet, he’s beginning to make me wonder if he wants to even talk about it, or if the anger is all made up in my head.
“Charlie?”
He jerks the steering wheel, pulling us to the side of the road with enough force that I grab the door handle. Gears slamming into park, as he just sits there, continuing to use the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from flying apart.
Geez maybe he does need to get one of those little stress relief balls.
Honestly, I’ve never seen this side of him and it’s terrifying.
I can only guess why he’s this upset if he doesn’t talk to me.
I let him sit there for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
Maybe if he has time to calm down, this conversation will be more adultlike and less like siblings arguing over stupid stuff.
But the words never come. The calm never arrives.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Keeping my voice gentle, despite my racing heart. His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath.
“Cody’s dead,” he finally says, the words sharp and cutting. “Your husband, my best friend is dead and here you are sleeping around with other men. I was going to try, Andie. Give him a chance, but no, you’re out here inviting people to sleep in his bed with you. Come on, you’re better than that.”
Each word feels like a slap. But he still has more insults to throw my way it seems.
“Do you even miss him anymore? What do you think Cody would say if he was here to see you? It’s like you didn’t even think of how others would feel seeing you with someone else.
” With each comment, tears begin to blur my vision.
“You have absolutely no respect for anyone right now. I thought I knew you better.”
Add verbal evisceration to Charlie’s list of skills.
My heart threatens to shatter all over again.
How could he think this of me? He lost his friend, yes, but I lost my husband.
“Stop it, Charlie.” My voice cuts through his attack like a sharp blade.
“You think I don’t miss him? You think this is easy for me?
I’ve spent months hating myself for even looking at another man.
But you know what? Cody is gone, and I’m still here.
I get to decide how to live my life, not you. ”
Part of me wants to go one step further and tell him to fuck off because he’s wrong, but I don’t.
He’s hurting too and although it’s painful to hear his words, he is allowed to express his thoughts.
I could continue to explain myself and justify my choices, but he doesn’t seem in the mood to truly listen.
So, I hold back and sit there in silence.
I can only hope that he doesn’t truly mean what he’s saying, that he said those hurtful things only out of grief.
“I’m sorry Andie. I’m just—”
“Can we just go?” I stare out the window as I try to hold my tears back. I watch the trees pass as we drive in silence, each of us locked in on our own hurt.