by Vi Keeland
I called John back to come pick me up, asking him not to mention to Reed that I’d ever gone to the hospital at all.
Returning to the resort, I went back to my room and immediately pulled up WebMD on my phone. Scrolling through article after article, I was doing my best to learn more about MS in the short time I had before Reed came back.
Needing to figure out how I was going to approach it, I decided that I wasn’t going to tell him I knew. At least, not yet. When my phone rang, I picked up.
“Reed. Where are you?”
“How are you feeling today?”
“A little hungover, but I’m fine. How come you didn’t wake me this morning?”
“Trust me, you needed to sleep.” He paused. “Listen, you should know . . . I slipped during this morning’s climb. They made me go to the hospital just as a precaution. A few scrapes and bruises, but I’m fine. I’m already back in my room.”
Trying to act surprised, I said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be good to drive back to the city.”
“When are we heading back?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’d like to go soon,” I said.
“Okay. How about I swing by your room in about twenty minutes? We can grab some lunch then hit the road.”
“Sounds good.”
The ride back to Manhattan was tranquil. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings. So I chose to say nothing at all.
Reed turned to me as the sun was starting to set over the interstate. “You okay?”
I finally looked at him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He seemed preoccupied. More silence passed before he asked, “Do you remember anything about last night?”
Last night.
Even if I did remember the details of our drunken encounter in my room, anything beyond the bombshell from this afternoon was a total blur.
“Bits and pieces.”
His voice was low. “Do you remember . . . the kiss?”
So it was real.
“Vaguely.”
He sucked in his jaw. “Nothing else happened. In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” That was the least of my worries.
“You passed out. I stayed for a while. Fell asleep. Then I left early in the morning.”
“Why did you stay?”
“I didn’t feel right leaving you. You were upset.”
“Well, thank you . . . for staying.”
“I take full responsibility for coming to your room, but we can’t get carried away like that anymore.”
I just kept nodding. And I could feel tears forming in my eyes. Shit. This was why I couldn’t talk to him. Turning my head to look out the window, I was hoping he didn’t notice my total loss of control.
Reed turned up the volume on the radio when Bonnie Raitt’s “I Can’t Make You Love Me” came on. The words reminded me so much of my situation with Reed because you only had so much control over another person’s feelings. I couldn’t make Reed see his future the way I did. He had to come to that realization himself. The song wasn’t helping my predicament.
“Charlotte, look at me.” When I turned to him, he could see my tears. “What the fuck? Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
Because you have MS.
And because you believe that would matter to me.
Holding out my hand, I said, “It’s not about anything you said. I’m just feeling emotional. This Bonnie Raitt song that’s on . . . ‘I Can’t Make You Love Me.’ It’s depressing,” I lied, “and it’s also my time of the month.”
Reed simply nodded in understanding. He seemed to accept that explanation without questioning me any further.
Keeping everything in was taking a toll on me, and it hadn’t even been a couple of hours since finding out. Not even a full day, and I couldn’t hold it together.
The rest of the ride home was quiet.
After Reed dropped me off at my apartment, I immediately called an Uber to take me to Iris’s house.
Her doorman knew me and let me go right upstairs.
The moment she opened the door, the words fell from my mouth. “Do you know?” Brushing past her shoulder, I let myself in.
Her eyes filled with concern. “What are you referring to, Charlotte?”
Out of breath, I said, “The MS.”
Iris closed her eyes and walked toward the couch. “Come sit.”
I sat down and placed my head in my hands. “Iris, my heart is breaking. Tell me what to do.”
She placed her hand on my knee. “He told you?”
“No. I’m not supposed to know anything. I accidentally found out.”
She looked shocked. “How?”
“Long story short, we went rock climbing in the Adirondacks. Reed is okay, but he fell and needed to get checked out. We weren’t together when it happened. I followed him to the hospital. I overheard a conversation between him and his doctor. He doesn’t know I was ever there or that I know.” Placing my head in my hands, I was on the verge of tears yet again. “I don’t know how to handle this. I can’t just pretend like I don’t know. But I’m afraid he’ll be irate if he finds out.”
Iris nodded in understanding. “Give it some time. The right answer will come to you.”
I looked up at her. “You were right. You always said that he had his reasons for being so closed off, but I never imagined this.”
She let out a deep breath. “Charlotte . . . you know . . . MS is not a death sentence. Reed was actually cautiously optimistic when he was first diagnosed. He’s seen all of the best specialists in Manhattan, and they all reassured him that many people can live perfectly normal lives with it; it’s just that there are some who aren’t so lucky. There’s really no way to know which category Reed will fall into. Only time will tell. But when Allison determined that she couldn’t handle the thought of the worst-case scenario, Reed was blindsided. That gave him a different perspective, one none of us have been able to snap him out of. He started to focus on the negative . . . the what-ifs. He lost a lot of faith that he hasn’t been able to get back.”
“He really loved her . . .” That was the one thing I’d known from the very beginning.
“He did. But clearly, she’s not the one. He’s determined not to let love in, Charlotte. I can’t say with absolute certainty that he will ever change his mind on that. But the thought of my grandson living his life without experiencing the joys of true love and a family of his own makes my heart hurt immensely.”
Tears stung my eyes. To imagine that there was a chance Reed might never be able to experience love again hurt my heart immensely, too.
CHAPTER 26
REED
There was no doubt that something was seriously off with Charlotte since we’d returned from the Adirondacks.
For the past couple of days, she’d been avoiding me, and while I knew that was really for the best, my curiosity got to me. I scheduled her to come help me at the showing of one of the more spectacular properties of my entire career. She’d insisted on getting a car service and not driving out to the Hamptons with me, making up some sorry excuse about her schedule. But I knew it was because she was avoiding being alone with me. That should have made me happy. But I was perplexed. Was this about my rejecting her advances? I couldn’t be sure.
The Easthampton house was so close to the water it was practically sitting in the ocean. The twenty-million-dollar, European-style estate was designed with the finest imported materials from floor to ceiling and wasn’t going to stay on the market long. We had three appointments in a row, and I fully expected to be closing a deal by tomorrow once the three parties had time to mull over their competitive offers.
When the showings were over, Charlotte and I had a chance to really talk for the first time all day. She’d taken off her shoes as we strolled along in the sandy water.
“Let me ask you something, Reed.”
“Alright .
. .”
“I got the sense from your enthusiasm in showing this property, from the light in your eyes when you talked about its Gatsby-like, stately elegance . . . that you’re very fond of it. But would you actually live here, in this house?”
That was a no-brainer. “I absolutely would, yes.”
“What if I told you I wouldn’t live here because it’s so close to the water that I’d be afraid of what might happen if there were ever a major hurricane?”
“I’d say you were seriously crazy.”
She tilted her head. “Really? Why?”
Where was she going with this?
“Because this house is the most amazing property I’ve ever had the privilege to represent. To not want to live in it, to not experience all of its splendor on a daily basis because you’re worried about the potential of a storm, is ludicrous.”
“You don’t think that my fear should stop me from enjoying this beautiful house to its fullest—”
“No, I don’t.”
She added, “Because the storm may never come.”
“That’s right.”
“So, if this house represented life . . . then you don’t believe you should live your life based on fear.”
The serious look on her face gave me pause. I stopped walking. The ocean breeze was blowing her hair around. The way she was staring into my eyes . . . something was not right. Charlotte was asking me that question for a reason.
We weren’t really talking about the house.
Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline ran through me. Had she figured it out? Had she somehow gotten access to my medical records? Could she possibly know about my diagnosis? No. That’s impossible. I’d done everything in my power to keep all that information private.
But this was Charlotte Darling we were talking about. Anything was possible.
I had to know.
“What are you really talking about here, Charlotte?”
She wouldn’t answer me immediately. Then she simply said, “I know, Reed.”
“You know . . . what?”
“I know you have MS.”
My heart felt like it fell to my stomach. Her words were like a sucker punch to the gut. I felt simply . . . naked.
“Tell me how you found out,” I demanded.
Her face was turning crimson. “It was an accident. Please don’t be mad. I’d gone to the hospital to check on you. I was standing outside the door when you were talking to your doctor. I can’t help what I heard.”
While my instinct was to blow up at her, that wouldn’t be fair. She hadn’t pried. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And the concern in her eyes was genuine.
I placed my hand on her cheek. “Come sit with me.”
Charlotte followed me over to a large rock that overlooked the ocean.
“You’re not mad?”
Letting out a long breath, I silently shook my head no.
“Thank God. I thought you would be.”
“A part of me is relieved that you know. But I need you to understand that this doesn’t change anything, Charlotte.”
“Listen. I’ve been doing lots of research and—”
“Let me finish,” I interrupted.
“Alright.”
“I know you’ve probably scoured the internet for information that will make you feel better about this. I know you probably have a million positive spins on it. But the truth is . . . I can’t ignore what’s there. The moments where I have difficulty with mobility, the moments where my vision blurs or my legs feel numb. The times where I feel like I’m losing my mind. They’re fleeting, but they are there.”
I inhaled some of the ocean air to compose myself. “It’s all whispering to me right now, but the truth is . . . this will catch up with me someday. It’s enough as it is without having to worry about being a burden on someone. I can’t live knowing that might happen, Charlotte. The one favor Allison ever did for me was to leave me before it got to that point.”
She raised her voice. “Allison made a huge mistake in thinking a life with you wouldn’t be worth it. I will never see things the way you do, Reed. I will never understand how someone wouldn’t accept even limited quality time with the person they love over none at all. Then again, it’s not love if you could walk away from someone. Life’s not perfect. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. In fact, I almost did this morning!”
I wasn’t supposed to laugh at that. It wasn’t funny at all, but somehow the way she’d said it made me chuckle.
Charlotte continued, “That said, I understand your fears. The one thing I can’t do is force you to see things the way I do. If this is how you truly feel, then I want you to know you’ll always have a friend in me at the very least.” She then looked down at her phone and stood up suddenly.
“I have to leave.”
“Where are you going?”
“My ride is here.”
I stood up. “I assumed you were heading back to the city with me.”
“No. I called the car service.”
My eyes moved back and forth in confusion. “Alright.”
Even though she had insisted on leaving, Charlotte was not okay.
She looked like she was on the verge of tears when she said, “Bonnie Raitt was right.” Then she just walked away, leaving me standing there by the ocean.
Bonnie Raitt was right.
Bonnie Raitt was right.
What did that mean? Then it hit me. The song.
“I Can’t Make You Love Me.”
I stayed at the beach for a while, pondering Charlotte’s words. Not to mention that damn song was now in my head. I was determined not to let her sway me. Things were the way they had to be. Charlotte couldn’t consider the long-term implications of being with me because she only saw the world through rose-colored glasses. I had to be the sensible one in this equation. I was sure she was imagining the best possible outcome, not seeing me potentially restricted to a bed or confined to a wheelchair, unable to communicate or effectively eat. But the fact remained that the worst-case scenario wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Allison had made the decision she thought was best for herself and assumed the least risk as a result. She wouldn’t have a husband with a debilitating illness interfering with her freedom. That was what I wanted for Charlotte, to be able to live out all her fuck-it dreams without anything holding her back.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Checking the caller ID, I could see it was Josh, the private investigator.
I picked up. “This is Reed.”
“Eastwood . . . I’m checking on that Charlotte Darling investigation you gave me up in Poughkeepsie. I think I found something.”
CHAPTER 27
REED
I was always good at keeping secrets.
Yet for some reason, I could barely look at Charlotte over the last week since Josh had called with information on her birth mother. Of course, I knew withholding was the right thing to do until Josh could verify everything he’d dug up. Especially since a lot of it was word of mouth. There was no way in the world I was delivering that kind of unverified intel to Charlotte.
Then there was also the fact that I had no idea how Charlotte was going to react to what I’d done. The two of us weren’t strangers to invading each other’s privacy. Oddly, it seemed to be our thing. I’d stalk her social media and open her Fuck-It List. And in turn she’d buy me a Christmas mug featuring my most personal childhood dream that I’d never shared with her. But digging up her mother, finding out her true identity and history, that took things to a whole new level of “fucked up.” It didn’t help that what I’d turned up wasn’t good.
Earlier this afternoon, I’d messaged Charlotte to find out what time she planned to leave the office tonight. She’d responded with six, so I waited until six thirty to drop off the files at her office that I needed her to work on tomorrow. I used my master key to unlock her door, expecting no one to be inside.
Only, Charlotte was definitely still th
ere.
“Shit. Don’t you knock?” She yanked the dress that was at her waist up, covering her bra.
I stood frozen and staring, rather than doing the polite thing and turning away. “Sorry. You said you were leaving at six, and your door was locked.”
“I locked it so I could change.”
I blinked a few times, finally managing to snap myself out of it. “Sorry.” I backed out and began to pull the door shut, but Charlotte called after me.
“Wait!”
I kept the door partially closed so I couldn’t see her. “What’s up?”
“Can you . . . help me with this zipper? It always sticks.”
I looked up at the sky and counted to ten in my head. “Are you covered now?”
“Yes.”
I opened the door and got a look at what Charlotte was wearing for the first time. I’d been so distracted by the contrast of her lacy black bra against her creamy skin that she could’ve been pulling on a clown suit and I wouldn’t have noticed.
I tried to keep my eyes on her face but failed. The little black dress she wore—one with a low neckline that showed off a good amount of cleavage—was just too irresistible to pass up. It cut a few inches above her knees, which made her toned legs look endless as they slipped into a pair of spiky, high-heeled shoes. I’d have given my right arm to feel them digging into my back.
I swallowed. “Going somewhere?”
She turned, giving me her back, and pulled her hair to the side. Charlotte’s dress was half-zipped, stopping at the black lace of her bra. “Can you zip me? I’m already running late.”
I walked over and stood behind her, taking in a big, deep breath of her scent. “You look beautiful. But where are you going?”
“I’m meeting a friend for drinks.”
My hand at her zipper froze. She was wearing a little black dress and smelled fucking amazing, and yet somehow I was shocked at her response. “A friend?” It felt like a Mack truck had just hit me.
“Yes. And I’m late. So if you wouldn’t mind . . .”
Miraculously, I managed to pull up her zipper even though all I wanted to do was rip the fucking dress off and tell her she wasn’t going out with a friend.