Charlie is using the last two flights to catch up on work that he’s been neglecting in favor of afternoon delights and midnight dips. I have on an eye mask to block out the light but nothing can block my mind as I think about Vivian and seeing her when I get back to New York. I sit up and message her before I can change my mind. I ask if she would be willing to chat with me. I don’t know what time it is for her, so I turn off my phone and finally settle down to rest.
Chapter 11
Whenwegetbackto the penthouse that night, I am exhausted. Charlie ordered food ahead for us while in the cab, knowing that the fridge would be empty. We’re both surprised by flowers and balloons. Charlie sets our bags aside in the foyer, going immediately to the note on the flowers.
“‘Happy Honeymoon!’ Oh, what an asshole.” Charlie’s laughter fills the empty quiet of the two-floor penthouse. “It’s from Jack. I told him that everyone thought it was our honeymoon so they kept giving us shit. I encouraged him to play it up for his honeymoon, so he sent this.”
He laughs again, sounding delirious, going on more than thirty hours straight of traveling. Charlie doesn’t give it a second thought, kicking off his shoes at the door to wheel both of our bags into his room. I’m not sure where I fit in here, where I’m supposed to sleep. We’re no longer in our sex bubble that was Bora Bora. We’re back in our real lives with real people. Christmas is next week and we haven’t really discussed what we’re doing about that.
“Charlie,” I call, still standing in the doorway. He walks back out of his room, looking at me, waiting. Before I can open my mouth, his phone rings. It’s the front desk letting him know that the food is here. Not once does he drop his eyes from me, silently pleading with me to have this conversation. He turns his full attention to me, waiting for me to go on, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Charlie,” I begin again. “What are we? I hate to try to put a label on us, but should I be looking to get back to my own place? Should I sleep in the guestroom? What are we doing?” I see hurt flicker in his eyes at the suggestion that I go back to my old place, but he still walks over to me, taking my bag off my shoulder and slinging it over his.
“I meant what I said at the airport. I am going to follow your lead in this. If you feel like you need to move out and get space, then you can do that at any time.” Now it’s my turn to feel like I’ve been punched in the gut even if I’m the one who started this. “That said, I would love it if you stayed. If you want to know how I would introduce you at parties, sex kitten is the obvious choice, followed by girlfriend.” There is a knock at the door, giving me a moment to think, even if it is only just a second while Charlie thanks the delivery guy.
“I’m in this as long as you are,” he continues. “If you want to slow this down, we slow it down. But from where I’m sitting, I’m holding the winning hand and I’m all in.” He’s being cheesy, and he knows it, but the smile that spreads on my lips is real.
I close the distance between us, rising to the tips of my toes to kiss him, pulling him to me. His hands go to my hips, pulling me against him, when my stomach lets out an undignified growl. Charlie’s laughter rumbles through my body.
“Let's get you fed. Unpack the food, while I put your bag in our room. Unless you have any objections?” He pauses letting me have my chance and I choose not to take it. I’ve already spent the last week in his bed; all this does is add me to his full morning routine.
I’m sorting the Thai food when he emerges. “What is the plan with Christmas later this week?” I ask, not wanting to push him too hard on it. The apartment is just as spotless as we left it, the whirlwind mess that I am contained in the guest room, now my old room.
“Probably working from home most of the time. Mom usually tries to get me to meet her halfway on a ski-slope somewhere, but since this is a divorce year, my dad is probably spending it alone. You’re a wild card now too. I honestly hadn’t thought about it.” Charlie isn’t looking at me as he says this, carefully unpacking each of our dishes and sides. As usual, he’s gone overboard with options to make sure I have something leftover for lunch tomorrow, or as a late night snack when he comes home from work.
“Is your mom going to Vail again?” I ask, taking a bite of a spring roll, remembering a previous conversation about a family house out there. Charlie slides my favorite, chicken pad see ew, to me after taking a helping for himself.
“No, she might be in New York this year. My brother is in a graduate program at Columbia, getting his JD/MBA, so I think she’s here visiting him.”
I pause, lifting the chopsticks stuffed with food to my mouth. “Do you want to see them?” I have to tread carefully. “I’m not angling to meet your mom or anything, but, like, I don’t want you to worry about me, you know, meeting your mom and that’s why you’re not seeing her.”
Charlie is quiet as he thinks about this, stuffing pad see ew into his mouth to delay responding. I let him think before I take another bite.
“I...” he starts before stopping again. Charlie places his chopsticks on the table to give me his full attention. “I...I do want you to meet my mom. I would rather you meet her before my dad. If you could never meet my dad, that would be preferable. I probably feel the same way about my mom and brother that you do about Vivian. There is history there, a lot of hurt, that I don’t think we can get past.”
I brush his dirty blond hair out of his face where the long strands have fallen, covering his reaction. “Maybe this is the year of new beginnings. You’ve brought me mine. Let me help you with yours. Is there somewhere neutral where you can meet them? If you want to, that is.” I watch as he drags his knuckles along his chin, deep in thought.
“I have to think about it. Did you ever hear back from Vivian?” His change of subject tells me that he doesn’t want to talk about it.
My phone is a cold paperweight at the bottom of my bag. When we took off from Tahiti, I turned it off. I turn on my phone now, leaving it on the table. For the first time, I’m anxious to turn it on, unsure of what it will hold. Will Vivian have ignored my message? Would that mean she never wants to see me again and only wants to rub my face in how great her life has been? Maybe she regrets accepting my request. Or she was drunk when she decided to follow me.
I’m incapable of playing it cool while I wait, drumming my fingers on the table. I grab my phone as soon as the screen lights up, even though I still have to wait for it to fully power up. The phone makes a sound and my anxiety leads me to nearly chew through my lower lip as I pull up her message. I quickly scan what it says and then pass the phone to Charlie. His eyes rove over the screen, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I think brunch tomorrow sounds perfect. Suggest Claudia Jean’s on the West Side. I know the hostess so I can get you a reservation.”
“But you’re going to come too, right?” My voice is strangled by my desperation.
Charlie’s eyes soften, and he cups my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. I’ve come to rely on his friendship in the time I’ve known him. I may have known Vivian well, but she’s outside my comfort zone now. He must see it written on my face.
“Absolutely. If you want me at the table, I’ll sit with you, otherwise there is a countertop area I can wait at.”
My heart fills suddenly, and I rise to kiss Charlie, tongue sliding between his lips, which he opens willingly to me.
“What did I do to deserve you?” I ask, closing up my left overs, cleaning up his as well. We’ve done this before, gotten takeout and talked, hanging out like friends, but it feels different now.
“You got hit by a car,” he deadpans.
I was afraid going to bed that night was going to be awkward, but we are both too exhausted to overthink it. We naturally gravitate toward the same sides of the bed that we used in Bora Bora. Charlie then moves closer to the middle of the bed as I turn my body and curl around him in the same nightly routine we had for the last week, drawn to the other for safety and comfort.