His hands came to either side of my head and he tipped it back as he got closer. I saw his face was back to soft and he looked almost relieved.
“I made my point, didn’t I?”
Oh, he made his point.
“Yes,” I whispered again.
“We’ll finish when I get home.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what he meant, finish talking or finish making our way to the couch so I could act like an even bigger idiot and behave like a screaming bitch besides.
“Nina?”
“It sounds like something important.”
“It is or there’s no f**kin’ way I’d go.” His hands at my head brought me closer and he finished, “I’ll explain later.”
“You better get going,” I told him.
I felt one of his hands come down to my neck then his thumb slid along my jaw.
“Be good,” he whispered.
“I’ll try,” I whispered back, his eyes moved over my face then he bent his neck, touched his mouth to mine, giving me an exquisite, sweet, light kiss that was much like his forehead kiss except a whole lot better and let me go.
I watched him go to the closet, he disappeared behind the door, came out, shrugging on a canvas coat, his eyes came to me and he ordered, “Stay awake.”
“Okay.”
He lifted his chin and then he walked out the door.
I wandered to the computer even though I wanted to watch him leave, I didn’t want him to see me watching.
I pulled the chair up to the roll top then I sat down and clicked into the internet browser in order to access my webmail.
I heard the Cherokee depart as I typed in the web address then my username and password. I heard silence when I clicked on “compose” and more silence as I typed in Niles’s e-mail address.
Then I spent the next two hours writing to my fiancé explaining, in detail, what a timeout meant; what it meant that he didn’t know how I took my coffee; what it meant that he didn’t understand how much it hurt when he asked me to sell Charlie’s house; how lonely I was, even when I was with him; how it felt, him not making love to me, being affectionate, making me feel desired or desirable; how much it bothered me that, even though I’d talked to him about all of this, even wrote him other e-mails, it didn’t ever seem to penetrate; and lastly, the part that took the most time, how it wasn’t going to work out between us. Then I told him I’d call him in a few days and we would talk. Then I read it, edited it, read it again, added more, read it again, changed a few things, then I hit send.
It disappeared and I stared at the screen showing a list of my e-mails.
Well done, sweetheart, Charlie whispered in my ear.
He sounded sad but proud.
I started crying.
Chapter Five
Charlie
I opened my eyes, blinked at the bright sunlight and smelled bacon cooking.
I was alone in Max’s bed. Max, evidently, was downstairs cooking breakfast.
I rolled to my back and stared at the point in the A-Frame ceiling.
After sending my e-mail to Niles and crying my eyes out – so much, I had to move to the chair by the couch, curl in it holding a toss pillow to my chest in order to give myself a comfortable cocoon while letting go a part of my life that was once important to me, in fact I thought it was going to be my entire future but I’d figured out wasn’t so important anymore – I cleaned up my face. Then I threw another log on the fire. Then I stared at the log burning, trying to sort out my head. Then I failed at sorting out my head. Then when it got late, I made dinner for one and ate cookies for dessert. Then I read until it got later. Then when it got really late, I changed into my nightgown, put in a movie, slid into bed and, again, obviously, fell asleep while watching it.