let me. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“No. They gave me super-strong sedatives. They’re going to make me sleepy, but I wanted to see you before the drugs dragged me to dreamland.”
“I’m here, babe.”
“Troy, I’m so sorry for going total psycho bitch at the party. You didn’t deserve how I treated you.”
A wave of relief washes over me. She’s not mad at me anymore. But the sentiment quickly vanishes when I remember the worst of the storm is yet to come. I push those negative thoughts to a corner of my mind, out of the way but easily accessible. A time will come to deal with them, but not right now.
I take Charlie’s hand in mine, squeezing lightly before I lean forward and kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, darling. I should have come after you, not taken off like a coward.”
“No, you were right to give me space.” She cups my cheek. “I love you that much more for that.”
My breath catches, and then a slow grin unfurls on my lips. “You love me?”
“Very much so.”
“It’s the first time you’ve told me that, you know?”
Her brows furrow. “No it’s not. I told you yesterday.”
“Kind of.” I run my hand through her hair, unsurprised to see it tremble a little. “When I got the call about you, I got so scared. It was one of the worst days of my life. If anything worse had happened to you, I….” I shake my head as the guilt of Robbie’s death becomes a million times heavier. “I couldn’t live with myself.”
“Troy, what happened wasn’t your fault. Just like Robbie’s death wasn’t.”
I recoil as if she’d struck me. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Not the details, but I can read a guilty heart when I see one. Why do you carry such a burden?”
I walk away, giving my back to her. “It was my fault Robbie died, Charlie. I was supposed to be watching him in the pool. I got distracted, and he drowned.”
“You were only eight when it happened. No parent should put that responsibility on a child.”
I laugh bitterly. “Oh, my parents were the first ones to put the blame on me.”
“That doesn’t make it true.”
My eyes burn, and the lump in my throat becomes too large. I can barely breathe. “In this case, it does, Charlie.”
“Troy, look at me.”
Crossing my arms, I look over my shoulder. Charlie’s blue eyes are brighter than before, and tears have left streak marks on her cheeks.
I turn fully and stride back to her side. “Babe, don’t cry for me. I’m not worth it.”
“You’re worth these tears and a million more. I’m so sad that your parents let you grow up with that terrible guilt. You’re a good person, Troy. Much better than me. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.”
I carefully capture her face between my hands and softly kiss her on the lips. “You’ve got things twisted around. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
The secret that her father asked me to keep comes to the forefront of my mind, making my statement even truer.
She chuckles against my lips. “Fine. Then we’re both undeserving rascals who are perfect for each other.”
A knock on the door makes me straighten up. Charlie’s mother is back and still sporting an unfriendly look.
“Charlie needs to rest. You can come back tomorrow.”
“When can she go home?” I ask.
“In a few days.”
“I can turn the office room downstairs into a temporary bedroom for you,” I tell Charlie.
“Oh, she won’t be going back with you. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Mom, I didn’t agree with that,” Charlie complains.
“Hush now, honey. You need to rest.” Her mother fusses over her, adjusting her pillow and then lowering the bed.
“You should stay with your folks for a while, sweetheart,” I tell her softly. “It’ll be good for you. I’ll come visit every day until you’re ready to come back home.”
Her mother narrows her eyes, but mercifully, she keeps any retort to herself.
Charlie’s eyes are already getting droopy when she replies, “Okay.”
45
CHARLIE
It’s been a week since my accident, and Troy has come by every day to see me. I couldn’t fight both my parents when they insisted I recover at their place. Dad patched things up with Mom and moved back. Funny how I don’t consider their house as home anymore. The house I share with Troy is home. No, that’s not right either. He is home. He once confessed I was his endgame. Now I know he’s mine too.
Blake, Fred, and