22
Doing the Right Thing
Oliver
I can’t deal with all the emotions swirling around in my chest. A part of me wants to go after Charlotte and ask her to run away with me, but I know there’s no escaping my past now. She says she wants to help me, and I love her all the more for her strength and loyalty, but I can’t be sure that it’s not out of a sense of professional duty or if she loves me as well. I desperately want to take her up on her offer, but it makes me feel weak and like a jerk to put her through that. Will she want to stand by me if that tape is released and she sees me fucking another woman?
I fill an old-fashioned glass with scotch, knowing I have a little time before I need to start making her dinner, so a little buzz won’t slow me down. I need it because I can hardly handle this shit. I take my glass and sink down on the couch, wondering how my life got so out of hand.
My phone pings a notification, and at first, I think to ignore it, then on the off-chance that it’s Charlotte, I pull my phone from my pocket.
Motherfucker! I click on the text from Hayden and my heart stops. It’s a picture of me and Charlotte exiting the clinic today. After the picture is a text:
“You didn’t tell me you were engaged, Oliver. What do you think she’ll think when she sees your sex tape?”
The only way she’d know about the engagement is if she went back to the clinic. Instead of leaving after our talk, she must have circled back.
Goddammit. I down the scotch and want to hurl the glass across the room, but manage to set it down on the coffee table and then scrape my hands over my face. I’m really left with no choice, and it’s killing me. There’s no option for me that won’t hurt Charlotte and it’s tearing my heart in two.
For the first time since Hayden started messaging me, I reply, giving her a time and a place to meet. I have no intention of going back with her, but I’m so angry that I’m ready to meet her head-on and I don’t give a fuck about what it will do to me. My only concern is to protect Charlotte and if possible, Theo as well.
Once I send the text, I turn off my phone because I can’t be bothered to talk to her or anyone else until my tasks are done.
The first thing I do is go into the kitchen and pull out some chicken and potatoes because I promised Charlotte I’d make her dinner. Once I put them into the pan and into the oven to cook, I move on to my next task. I go to my bedroom and pull out my bags and pack all my belongings. I check Charlotte’s room, knowing that I’ve left a few things in there as well, and my task becomes all the more agonizing as I inhale the sweet scent of her lingering in the room.
Once I’m packed, I leave my bags by the door and use an app on my phone to book a flight to California tonight. I’m in luck, that if I can get a car and the traffic isn’t any worse than usual, I should be on a flight in the next two hours.
I use my phone to write a resignation email to Dr. Kramer and pour myself another drink because the next tasks are going to slowly kill me.
I write Charlotte a check for six months’ rent on my half of her mortgage. I consider paying all of it for the next six months, but I’m concerned that she won’t even accept my half because she’ll be so angry. I don’t blame her, and I hate that I’m about to do this, but I have no choice if I’m going to protect her from Hayden.
I find a sheet of paper and sit to write a note, but there are no words that adequately fit the situation. There’s nothing I can say that makes me come out of this not being the asshole that I am. I’m about to do what Stephen did and it’s ripping me apart. I could confess my love for her, but that would be cruel considering what I’m doing. So I simply write, “I’m sorry.”
I fold the paper, along with the check, and insert them into an envelope. Then I remember the car that I’d bought but didn’t really need in New York. I find the title in my folder of papers in my briefcase and sign it over to her and leave her the keys, putting them in the envelope too.
The oven is buzzing to let me know chicken and potatoes are done. I take the envelope with me to the kitchen. I pull the chicken and potatoes out of the oven and cover the meal in foil, then set the envelope on top of it.
I head to the door, picking up my bags and taking one last look around the condo. It is several minutes before I have the strength to move my legs out the door. I was so close to having something wonderful, but because my dick led me astray with Hayden, I am forced to give it all up. Now I don’t have anything to lose, and for Hayden, that makes me as dangerous to her as she’s been to me.
The rest of the early evening is a blur as I take a car to the airport and somehow get through security and on the plane. On the flight from New York to Los Angeles, I write down ideas that I can do for work once I’m finished with Hayden. I lean heavily toward joining an international medical team, as generally, it’s hard to find doctors who are willing to travel all the time, and I don’t think people in Third World countries will give a shit about a sex tape.
When I land in Los Angeles, with the time change, it’s nearly eleven at night. I take a shuttle to the nearest hotel and book a room for the night. Once I’m in my room and have emptied much of the minibar, I turn on my phone, knowing I’m not going to like what I see.
I ignore the return message from Hayden, and scroll through the other texts, all of them from Theo. There isn’t a single one from Charlotte. I’m deeply hurt by that and at the same time, know that it’s my fault. Her ex Stephen was a jerk, but as it turns out, I’m not any better.
Although Theo’s text told me to call him the minute I got my “Goddamn texts," because it’s nearly three in the morning in New York, I decide to wait until tomorrow. I’m hopeful that after a night’s sleep, I’ll have greater clarity, and hopefully greater fortitude as well.
I’m awoken the next morning with my phone buzzing next to me. It’s not the alarm, so I know someone is calling. I pick up my phone, noting it’s just after five in the morning and see Theo’s name on the caller ID. Knowing that he’s probably been up for a couple hours since it’s nearly eight there, I’m glad he’s waited until now to call. It would have been like him to call me at three in the morning.
I slide open the call button and lay back in the bed, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and my index finger.
“What the fuck are you doing, Oliver?”
“Good morning to you too, Theo.”
“Seriously, man, what are you doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday. When you didn’t answer, I finally went down to Charlotte’s condo and she said you were gone. You just left. Without a word.”
“I left a note,” I say lamely. Then, because I want Charlotte to be okay, I ask, “How was Charlotte?”