What You Left Behind - Len Webster Page 0,104

box and she would mail back Tim Tams. Her cards always read the same: I love you, Charlie.

Those cards sat in his desk back at his apartment. Charles didn’t doubt her love, but he always knew that her mind played heavily on her decisions. From the moment he had met her, she believed she was tainted goods. She had lost her way. And he was determined to show her the goodness he saw in her eyes.

“Steves! I got your crisps,” he yelled from the kitchen. His ears met with silence, and it caused him to still. The last time she had been so quiet, she had a blade to her wrist and was high on cocaine. “Fuck!” he muttered and burst out of the kitchen and ran to the bedroom. “Stevie!” he screamed the moment he stepped foot into the room they had shared together for the past week.

“You all right, Charlie?” she asked from the balcony. Her brows were knitted together and snow had settled in her blonde hair.

“You didn’t answer… I thought because of last time…” he trailed off.

Her mouth made an ‘O’ and she nodded. “The first time I tried to kill myself. You saved me then. Also, the second time, when I stood in the middle of Oxford Street, waiting for a bus or a car to hit me. And when I tried to jump off that bridge… you saved me from three suicide attempts. I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Charlie. I wasn’t… I wasn’t mentally right back then. I am now, and I have you to thank.”

“I’d never have to think when it comes to making sure you’re safe.” He closed the distance until his body touched hers. “You never have to thank me. I was in love with you. Your life and the breaths of air you took mattered more to me than anyone else. I’d have died for you.”

Tears welled her eyes. “Charlie, kiss me.”

“You never have to ask,” he breathed before his hands were on either side of her face and he brought his lips to hers. Pressing them together, sealing their connection. Her lips were exactly as he remembered. This was his Stevie. Her arms wound around his neck as a soft moan escaped her. He knew this was wrong. He knew her head wasn’t where her heart was. He knew that she believed this was right. But if he were a stronger man, he’d back away. Charles would let her go.

His hands were on her hips and he sighed, “I’m going to lift you. Wrap your legs around me.”

“Yes,” she said in a moan.

When her legs were around his waist, Charles took several steps back into the bedroom. His lips and tongue tasting and remembering her. It had been a long time since she had kissed him and touched him. It had been a long time since he felt the surge of passion and need that burst within him.

Suddenly, her hands were by the side of his cheeks and she was pulling him back. “Take me back to London, Charlie,” she whispered.

The realisation in her eyes was enough for him. This kiss didn’t do to her what it did to him. And for that he could only smile. She had found what she was looking for. The reason that held her back.

Me.

“Goodbye, Stevie,” he said softly and pressed his lips lightly on hers.

She let her forehead rest on his before uttering, “Goodbye, Charles.” In between her heavy breathing, she had said, “I love you.”

It ached him to hear, but he knew where her heart lay and he was happy to let her go. With all the honesty and goodness in him, he admitted, “I love you more.”

After saying goodbye to Charles, Sophie, and her mother, Stevie had gone through security and sat by the gate for her flight back home to Melbourne. A lot of risks were taken. She had turned her back on a future with Charles. Again. But her heart needed Julian, as did her body and her thoughts. She had told her mother to keep a room free in her Paris apartment in case she visited or worse—she and Julian didn’t get back together. But she hoped that his love hadn’t changed in the two weeks since she had listened to his messages. As much as she had wanted to return quickly, she couldn’t. She needed to be sure and spend time with the ones she loved in London. Sophie hadn’t been pleased; she

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