“Would my asking make a difference in your situation?” Manuel returned.
“No, I guess not,” she mumbled, her frown deepening.
“When I first met Nicholas back in December, the first thing I noticed was the way he looked at you. The man really looked at you. And I thought, wow, this man sees my daughter. Through all of her facades and coverups that she’s created to protect herself, this man sees her . . . even if their engagement is pure nonsense.”
Charlotte gasped, her mouth wide open in disbelief. “You knew!” she shrieked.
“Am I a fool?” Manuel laughed softly. “You’ve always had an imagination that ran faster than you . . . that engagement story would make for perfect television,” he continued to chuckle.
“And you said nothing,” she groaned, covering her face to hide her embarrassment. “Did mom know, too?”
“And destroy your fun? No. I didn’t see the point in doing that. And your mother, God help her is as gullible as they come. If you told her the sky was falling, she would believe you.”
“I must have inherited that naivety from her . . . I’m just as easy to manipulate, to deceive.”
Manuel heard the pain in her voice. Shaking his head at her words, he reached out and squeezed her hand consolably. “Charli Brown, it’s not a weakness to want to see the good in the people you love.”
“Tell that to my heart.”
Exhaling deeply, Manuel took one final sip from his mug, and then placing it on the porch, he turned to face Charlotte. “So dramatic,” he noted with a knowing smile. “You started your relationship with rose colored glasses, blinded by love and sweet endearments. And from this sightlessness, you created impossible expectations for what your life would be like with this man. He was doomed to fail from the very beginning.”
“Please, don’t make it my fault,” Charlotte argued. “You don’t even know what happened.”
“It’s not about whose fault it is, Charli. It’s about moving forward and forgiving people when they hurt you. It’s about not deluding yourself into believing Nicholas, or, any man besides God is perfect. Nicholas is a man. He’s a human being. And I believe in your mind, you’ve made him this unflawed, impeccable, immaculate person . . . that in reality, he’ll never fully live- up to . . . that’s not fair to him, or to you.”
When Charlotte didn’t respond, he continued, “Proverbs 17:9 says, ‘Love prospers when a fault is forgiven, but dwelling on it separates close friends.’ Charli Brown, marriage is hard work. In order for your marriage to work, you have to give one- hundred percent every day and you have to practice patience, every day, until you’ve mastered the art of being married. Not perfected but mastered. Trust me, work at it every day, and fifty years from now . . . when I’m dead and gone, you’ll wake up next to Nicholas− happy and with a peace of mind. Comprenez vous?” Do you understand?
Charlotte’s deep browns stared thoughtfully into her father’s bright hazels. “Yes, I understand,” she answered.
“Mhm,” he cooed. Moving his gaze to her still full mug, Manuel asked, “Are you going to finish that?”
Smirking, Charlotte inched away from him. “Oui papa. C'est à moi. Laisse-moi tranquille.” Yes, daddy. It’s mine. Leave me be.
Shaking his head, Manuel sighed. “Wasteful creature, just like your mother,” he grumbled. Then readjusting his position on the porch swing, he turned to stare out into the moonlit yard once more.
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte watched as Adeline walked through Victoria Secret’s Beauty Room, a bright smile fixed on her golden face as she picked up one fragrance after another, carelessly spraying each one into the air. Unbothered by the other customers bustling around her, she took her time admiring each smell, lifting her thin body forward to meet the mist before it evaporated. Glancing down at her watch, Charlotte knotted her brows together. Nicholas had dropped them off at the mall a little over an hour ago and to her surprise and horror, Vicki’s had been the only store they had visited. “Having fun?” she asked the younger girl when she reached her.
“It all smells so good,” Adeline beamed. “I think you’ll like this one,” she said, picking up a purple bottle and spraying the mist in Charlotte’s direction. “It’s called Love Spell.”
Charlotte laughed. “Adie, I’m familiar with Love Spell and Amber Romance . . . I’ve even had my share of Passionate Kisses.”
“Well, isn’t Nicholas lucky,” she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Oh my gosh, Adeline,” Charlotte gasped. “You become more and more vulgar every time I see you.”
Adeline’s hilarity was immediate. Throwing back her head, she laughed jovially at her sister’s startled expression. “Have you always been this uptight, Charli? Or, am I the last one to notice?”
Pursing her lips, Charlotte grunted aloud. “I’m not uptight. It’s just weird listening to you make sexual innuendos . . . you’re my baby sister.”
“Well, your baby sister just graduated from high school and isn’t so much a baby anymore.”
“I’m noticing,” Charlotte sighed. “So, which one do you want?” she asked, nodding her head at the tall wall of body mists.”
“I’ll go with Endless Love,” she smiled sweetly. Batting her long lashes, she said, “Before we leave you should grab something for yourself . . . I saw a teddy that you would look super- hot in . . . I can direct you to it, if you want?”
“Okay, I’m convinced you’ve inhaled too many fragrances and now you’re delusional. Let’s go.”
“Suit yourself,” Adeline giggled. Walking in the direction of the registers Adeline dramatically cleared her throat. “So, Charli. Have you given any thought to my moving to New York for the summer?”
“Not really,” Charlotte answered honestly.
“Ouch,” Adeline pouted. “Talk about unfiltered frankness.”
Sighing, Charlotte stopped her advancement toward the front of the store. “Adie,” she said, grabbing her little sister’s arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I have a lot going on at home right now . . . and I can’t afford any more responsibility.”
“Charli, I’m not a child. You’ll hardly ever see me,” Adeline huffed. “In fact, I can almost guarantee that you’ll all but forget I’m there. We’re talking about New York City in the summertime . . . the summer after high school graduation for crying out loud! Do you think I have any interest of being attached to you?” she laughed. “No, I plan to be as free as a bird. I just want to use your apartment as a place to crash at night.”
Charlotte stared at Adeline thoughtfully for a moment, and then after quiet deliberation she sighed again. “I’ll think about it,” she groaned, releasing her hold on her sister. “I’m not promising anything . . . but I will think about it.”
“That’s all I ask,” Adeline grinned, her expression brightening her golden eyes.
***
The sun had just begun to set when Charlotte turned right onto Harford Road. Keeping a steady pace, she relaxed her stance to relieve the tension building in her upper body. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled through her mouth, releasing small breaths as she pushed her long legs beyond their limits.
The bittersweet ache spreading through Charlotte’s torso made her feel alive, gave her the energy needed to continue beyond what her body allowed. Mind over matter, she told herself. Nothing but mind over matter. Aside from a few strangers walking their dogs, the side streets Charlotte ran through were empty. The lonely roads filled her with great satisfaction, gave her the opportunity to enjoy the solace of running, without having to maneuver her way through crowded sidewalks. Making a right onto Harview Avenue, Charlotte slowed her strides to take in the scenery of the lush Linden and Sugar Maple trees that lined her parents’ street. The very same trees she had ran past a million times since her childhood, now held a beauty− a loveliness she hadn’t recognized before. Perhaps, it was their lack of presence in her life that caused her to see them in a new light. Pe
rhaps, absence really did make the heart grow fonder. Regardless of the reason, Charlotte was enamored by the charming foliage and nostalgic sentiment it gave her.
Stopping in front of her parents’ house, Charlotte raised her arms to heaven− inhaling and exhaling deeply, needing the steady flow of air in her burning lungs. Closing her eyes, she patiently waited for her heartrate to slow down. One minute. Two. Three minutes passed before she allowed her arms to drop to her sides. Glancing at her activity tracker, she licked her dry lips. 172 beats per minute. Not bad for an eight- mile run, she mused. Blinking rapidly, Charlotte looked at the steps that led to the porch . . . the porch that led to the front door, and in a moment of weakness, she thought about turning on her heels and running out the front yard. Anxiety was a living, breathing entity that had surrounded her on every side, had crippled her resolve until she felt like she was choking− stifled by the darkness surrounding her. Walking those steps meant facing Nicholas, and for the life of her, Charlotte didn’t quite know how to do that. Aside from a few scattered words here and there, they had not spoken since the car ride the day before. There was so much she had wanted to say to him, so much she needed to get off her chest, but there was always something in the way. This time, that something was fear. Fear that anxiety had implanted into her chest− into her very being. Sighing, Charlotte forced one foot in front of the other as she slowly climbed the stairs, her heart in her stomach as she walked across the porch to the front door. “Okay, Charli,” she breathed, repeating her father’s words of wisdom. “In order for your marriage to work, you have to give one- hundred percent every day and you have to practice patience, every day, until you’ve mastered the art of being married.” With her hand on the brass doorknob that she had opened more times than she could count, Charlotte stood there, feet frozen to the welcome mat as she chanted the words over and over again− mustering the courage to go in, and face her husband. “Practice,” she whispered, finding resolution at last. “Marriage takes practice.”
Chapter Eighteen
Walking into her bedroom, Charlotte frowned at the dismal setting. The lights were off, the curtains were drawn, completely blocking out the last remnants of light in the rustic summer sky. Swallowing her hesitation, Charlotte switched on the wall light, only to find Nicholas staring at her intently from the desk chair. His silver gaze steady, heavy on her face. Softly shutting the door behind her, Charlotte whispered, “I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Thought? Or, hoped?” Nicholas asked, jokingly.
A slight smile softened Charlotte’s hard expression. “Both,” she admitted with a shrug of her thin shoulders. Walking over to Nicholas, Charlotte sank to her knees in front of him. Staring up into his warm mercury eyes, she blinked several times before speaking. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t be honest with me. And I’m−”
“Dimple,” Nicholas began.
Raising her fingers to her husband’s lips, she shook her head. “Let me finish.” Her almond browns held resolve. “I’m sorry for pushing you away when I found out about Blithe. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have tried . . . but I was embarrassed and felt humiliated, so angry. I understand now, that if I want our marriage to work, I have to leave the past in the past. And I do want our marriage to work. I really want it to work,” she humbly confessed. “I married my best friend . . . like, how many people can actually say that? My best friend in the entire world is my husband . . . I’m so blessed. And even though I hate the fact that you lied to me . . . I hate that you slept with another woman . . . I love you more than I hate your mistakes.”
Nicholas leaned forward to press a kiss on Charlotte’s damp forehead, the bittersweet taste of salt coated his full lips. Backing away just slightly, he placed his large hands on either of her cheeks. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured softly. “For not being honest with you about Blithe . . . for bringing Dean back into your life . . . for not trusting you enough with the truth. I’m really sorry, Dimple.” He paused, and then tucking frizzy strands of hair behind her ears, Nicholas bent his head to hers once more, this time kissing her lips− the softest of touches. “I want to be honest with you. I want to tell you everything,” he whispered against her lips.
Charlotte gazed up at Nicholas patiently as she waited for him to continue, but seconds turned into minutes without so much as an utterance between them. She offered her husband a reassuring smile before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. Pulling him closer into her, Charlotte closed her eyes and kissed him deeply. Crushing her mouth to Nicholas’ she parted his full lips with the tip of her tongue. Their tongues danced passionately . . . spoke the words their lips didn’t quite know how to say . . . searched for peace in confusion. Embracing him was all Charlotte could do, it was all she knew how to do.
Lifting her smaller body in his strong arms, Nicholas carried Charlotte to the bed− his mouth still on hers, their kiss uninterrupted. Carefully lowering her onto the mattress, Nicholas straddled her smaller frame with his larger one. Ending their embrace, he studied his wife’s face for several moments before gently kissing her brow . . . the tip of her nose . . . her chin. Leaning back, he pulled off his white V-neck T- shirt, and without missing a beat, removed Charlotte’s Adidas tank top with a skilled precision. Her gasp caused a small smile to tease the corner of his mouth. “What?” Nicholas smirked, clearly amused by her reaction.
“You do that so easily,” she breathed.
Standing to his feet, Nicholas finished stripping off his clothes before lowering himself to his knees in front of her. With little thought he pulled off her black compression shorts, carelessly ripping off her thin lace panties with them. Running his large hands up and down Charlotte’s toned legs, Nicholas parted her thighs with a force that caused her sex to cream. Squeezing her legs together, Charlotte tried to rise from the bed, but the act was in vain. “Don’t move,” Nicholas ordered, pushing her back onto the mattress.
“I’m sweaty,” she complained. “Let me take a shower.”
Ignoring her request, Nicholas lowered his head to her sex. Tightening his hold on her thighs, he firmly held them in place as he buried his face into her bare mound. Her scent was intoxicating, addicting. An exotic tang caressed his taste buds, a sweet and salty spice trickled from her garden, poured into him, and without hesitation he hungrily drank her elixir. Greedily, he lapped at her essence as it dripped down his chin. Charlotte bit down on her lower lip to muffle the cry of sheer ecstasy that threatened to burst from her chest as a flood of fire swept through her quivering body. She wanted to cry out− but couldn’t. It was amazing, the things he was doing to her. Fisting her hands in Nicholas’ thick tousled hair, she held her breath as wave after wave of warmth rushed through her every nerve- ending . . . building, always building until her entire body was shaking beneath him− her release intense, electrifying.
“Mm,” Nicholas moaned softly, his mouth still feeding on her hot nectar. He was lost in her, needing her, craving the taste of her. Bucking against his mouth, Charlotte attempted to move out of his grasp. “Stop,” he growled the warning. Opening his eyes, Nicholas met Charlotte’s gaze. His silver stare was penetrative, domineering as he demanded obedience. Spreading her legs wider, he nipped at her clitoris, teasing her pearl with the flick of his tongue and caress of his full lips. It was beyond euphoria; it was too much for her to endure.
“Nicholas, please,” Charlotte begged, “Ahh!” Swallowing deeply, she tightened her grip on his hair as she began to shatter once more from the torment of his mouth. “Enough,” she cried. “Stop, N-N-Nich−”
“Charli,” Adeline called from outside the bedroom door. “Are you busy?”
Charlotte closed her eyes as she tried to suppress the cries of pleasure that were begging to be heard. Nicholas waited until her climax was complete before he freed her from his grip. Opening her eyes, she released her hold on his hair. Inhaling deeply, she worked to control her breathing. “Adie, not now,” she finally mana
ged to get out after several deep breaths.
“It won’t take long. I just have to ask you something,” the younger girl said. “Two minutes. I promise.”
Exhaling, Charlotte brought her hands to her wet face. “Not now, Adeline,” she yelled.
“Fine,” Adeline carped.
“We should probably lock the door,” Nicholas laughed. “If she had just walked in . . .” Widening his bright greys, he smirked boyishly at Charlotte. “Talk about awkward family dinners.”
Charlotte shook her head at him. “Your sense of humor continues to surprise me,” she said, returning his smile. Inching away from him, Charlotte squeezed her legs together disclosing her lack of endurance for his sexual prowess. Her gaze steady on Nicholas,’ she held up her hands when he would have advanced forward. “I can’t take anymore, Nicholas. Not tonight, I’m too sensitive.”
A small frown hardened his youthful features. Rising from his knees, he revealed his heavy erection. Cupping his manhood in his right hand, he stroked the length of it until it swelled in front of her eyes. His silver gaze darkened to a stormy grey as he watched her intently. Budding pleasure was so close, yet so far away. Tilting his head sideways, Nicholas arched a curious brow at his wife. “Are you really going to deny me what’s mine?” he asked, his voice husky− needy.
Charlotte blinked rapidly, shocked by his question. “What’s yours?” she said, tasting the words. Holding his stare, she mused over the thought for a brief moment before her attention was once again fixed on his swelling cock. The sight of Nicholas touching himself as he stared down at her with those sparkling silver eyes was the most seductive sight she had ever beheld. A slow ache spread through her core, an all- consuming spark that pulsed through her veins, producing a neediness unlike anything she had ever experienced. Squeezing her thighs tightly together, she fought to stop the electrifying sensation gathering at the apex of her thighs.
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