Our feet crunch through layers of snow with a satisfying sound, every step we take.
“So, now you’ve seen all my crazy,” Charlie jokes, with a gesture toward the cabin in the distance with its little curl of smoke drifting out the chimney, visible even from here thanks to the lights on in every window. “When do we meet yours?”
He says it in a lighthearted, joking voice. But it only makes my steps falter, worry flooding back in. Because my family isn’t like his. We’re not whole and happy; I don’t have two happily married parents joking with one another, playing hockey together, parenting their boys together.
“I…” The words stick in my throat.
Charlie frowns, suddenly catching on to my discomfort. “If you don’t want to talk about it…”
“It’s not that,” I say, quick to explain. “It’s just…” I blink hard and turn to look through the forest toward his cabin. When I speak again, my voice comes out softer. Stuck in the back of my throat. “My family isn’t really… like yours.”
The snow crunching softly is my only hint that Charlie’s stepping up beside me. But when he speaks again, his low, now-familiar voice is a rumble just beside my ear. I can tell that he’s standing barely a foot away, behind me. Close enough to touch, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “Every family is different, Lila.”
“I mean, we’re not happy.” My throat feels so tight, it nearly shuts.
Slowly, so slowly that I can tell he’s waiting for me to shrug him off, maybe even expecting me to, his hand comes to rest on my shoulder. Warm and reassuring.
I let it stay. “My parents married pretty young. My mom got pregnant with my older brother in grad school, and she made a deal with my dad. He’d work and support the family while she raised the kids. But once we were old enough to go to school on our own, then Dad would slow down, take care of us, while she went back to school.”
“Sounds sensible enough,” Charlie says softly. “I’m guessing it didn’t go exactly that way?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, and in response, his grip on my shoulder tightens. “Ten years later, when my brother was in fifth grade and I’d only just started first—right around when Mom was supposed to be able to go back to school… Dad left.” My breath hitches.
Charlie’s arm slides down mine, and his other comes up to my waist, until he encircles me with both strong, taut arms, drawing me back against him. I let him pull me into the hug, and after a moment of hesitation, I tilt my head back to rest against his strong chest.
I can feel every breath he takes. In and out. It steadies me enough to continue.
“It took us ages to even figure out where my father went. Turns out he’d been having an affair for a while. When Mom demanded he live up to his end of their bargain, he decided he’d rather take off with his new girlfriend. Have no more responsibilities or ties. He never reached out to us again, not even me, and I—” My voice cracks now. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. “He and I were close… I thought he cared about me, thought he loved me. But who could do that to someone they loved?”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting to leave you, Lila Baker,” Charlie whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I can’t help myself. I turn in his arms and press my lips to his, hard. He cups the back of my head, kisses me soft and slow and sweet, like I’m the only taste in the world he wants to savor right now. When we break apart, our lips hover inches apart, and our gazes lock. He wipes a thumb across my cheekbone, ever so gently, and it’s only then that I realize I’m still crying.
“So this is why, is it?” Charlie frowns at me. “Why you wanted to do this whole stunt, to prove that traditional marriage never works, that relationships like that are always doomed to failure.”
I hiccup, then let out a weak laugh at myself. “I never thought about it like that…” But he’s got a point. My parents’ failed marriage does make me angry about the whole institution. And it does make me want to prove how badly marriages can go; to try to save other girls from my mother’s fate if I can. “Maybe you’re right,” I admit, my voice so low that even I can barely hear it.
Charlie watches me carefully, nodding. Then he leans in to kiss my forehead again, more gently this time. “Then, for your sake, Lila, I hope you can stop reliving that pattern. Just because you learned one way a marriage could go wrong, doesn’t mean you can’t ever find love yourself, or even a happy marriage of your own.”