“Oh, you think so, huh?” Now it’s Marcus who clenches his fist, crinkling up his papers in his hand without realizing it.
“Yes, I do. Look, what happened, happened. It was a long time ago, and it wasn’t really my fault. It has nothing to do with Charlotte and me now. I’m not going to let you keep me from our baby just because you can’t show a little bit of the forgiveness you preach about to someone you once called a brother.”
“Connor, I will never forgive you. You know why? You don’t even have one shred of remorse in your soul, do you? You don’t even admit the part you played in any of that night…” Marcus frowns and his lips corkscrew downward as he opens his palm and drops the crumpled papers back down. “Wait, did you say baby?” His eyes grow wide as he looks at me.
“I, uh, did I?” I know I shouldn’t say dammit in church. Is it bad to think it?
“You got my little sister pregnant?” The full realization floods over him and he races down the steps and checks my shoulder as he races past me to the exit.
I drag my fingers through my hair and restrain myself from swearing as I hear the door behind me slam shut. Quickly, I follow Marcus outside, “Where are you going? Get back here and talk to me about this like a man!” I call out but he’s already in his car. I’m not going to let him blow me off that easily. I jump back in my truck and follow his car out of the parking lot, cursing under my breath as we drive the familiar streets back to his house.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I yell as Marcus sails through a yellow light and I have no choice but to stop on the red that follows.
He’s going to confront Charlotte. I fucked this up pretty good. I need to stop him before he destroys any chance I have of ever seeing her again.
21
Charlotte
Ding!
The microwave announces that my TV dinner is ready. The only thing that surpasses my complete and utter exhaustion right now is my hunger. I manage to push myself up from the couch and walk over to the smell of cheap spaghetti. Flinging open the door, I look down at the mush being passed off as an Italian specialty and shrug. It might not look like much, but my growling stomach doesn’t care.
I lift the cardboard plate from the microwave and steam vents from the peeled back film, curling up around my fingers like a snake. The sting of the heat sinks into my flesh like fangs and I drop the pasta on the counter, grabbing my hand tight.
“Fuck!”
Why is it when you have a bad day, everything that can go wrong just jumps on the bandwagon? It’s never like one thing is shitty but the rest of the day is sunshine and rainbows. Instead, you get a flat tire and then it starts to rain and you just had your hair blown out and someone races past you and splashes you with mud.
It’s like karma or whatever likes to kick a girl when she’s down.
Vroom!
I spin around as some lunatic is burning rubber down our sleepy subdivision street like a drag racer. I rush over to the living room window and my jaw drops as I watch my brother jump the curb in front of our house and bring his car to a screeching halt, parked sideways across the driveway like someone on a bender.
I rush out the front door and stare in disbelief as Marcus leaps from the car and starts yelling.
“I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?” He roars.
“What?” I look around the yard, what is he doing right now?
“Don’t you ‘what’ me! I told you to stay away from Connor and you didn’t listen. You let him use you up just like every other girl he’s ever been with. And now what are you going to do? You got pregnant and ruined your life. You think he’s gonna take care of that baby? This is what happens when you go out and act like a harlot! There are consequences!” He booms.
Connor told him? I try to ignore the twitching blinds in my neighbor’s windows as Marcus makes another scene for them to soak in. That’s right folks, grab your popcorn!
“Marcus, shut up,” I plead. “Let’s talk about this inside,” I point to the house, but he’s too blind with rage to see.
“Don’t you tell me to shut up. Maybe if you would’ve shut your legs you wouldn’t be in this situation. I told you a leopard doesn’t change his spots, Lottie! Now what are you gonna do? Raise a kid on your own with your secretary pay? Cause I’m not helping you out of this one. You’re on your own,” he rants while Connor pulls his banged-up Dodge in behind my brother’s car and rushes out after him.
“Don’t you talk to her like that,” Connor races up to Marcus and pushes his scruffy jaw out as he goes chin-to-chin with him.
“Stay out of it, you’ve hurt this family enough Connor!” My brother shoves him with both hands.
Connor barely moves, he takes half a step back and comes forward swinging. “Who the fuck do you think you’re pushing around, bud?” He lands a haymaker on Marcus’ cheek and my brother throws his arms around Connor, wrestling him to the grass.
They roll around like a couple of boys, getting grass stains on their clothes and spewing hate at each other.
“You should have never come back! You just aren’t happy until you’ve ruined everyone’s lives, are you?” Marcus manages to get the upper hand, and punches Connor square on the chin.
Connor pushes his hips up high and flips my brother to the ground, spitting a mouthful of blood beside him. “You’re still the same boy, aren’t ya? Can’t use your words, only your fists. Well you didn’t win back then and you won’t now,” Connor cocks his arm back and I can see every muscle tense up tight.
“No! Please stop! Don’t do this,” I scream, tears welling up in my eyes. “Connor, get off him. Both of you, stop this!” I plead.
Connor looks up at me and the flame flickering behind his eyes dampens. He looks down at Marcus. “You’re not worth it,” he snarls, standing up and brushing himself off.
Marcus gets his feet under him and looks at me with the most profound disappointment I’ve ever seen etched in his face. “Forget this. I’m done trying to look after you,” he points his finger at me.
“I told you already, don’t talk to her like that,” Connor growls, his shoulders tense and hunch over like he’s about to pounce again.
“Fuck you, Connor,” Marcus throws a dirty punch and cuts open Connor’s cheek before racing back to his car and maneuvering around the truck blocking the driveway and taking off.
Connor glides his fingers over the cut, “Son of a bitch!” he murmurs, but then stops short and looks up at me. “Lottie, I’m so sorry about this. Let’s go inside and talk, please,” his green eyes implore me.
“Talk? You wanna talk? Don’t you think you’ve done enough talking for one day? I told you I wanted to tell Marcus on my own time and you gave me, what? Like thirty minutes before you had to go let him know you got me pregnant?” Anger boils up inside me.
“Charlotte, I didn’t mean to…”
“Enough!” I hold up my palm. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I’ve heard enough for one day. Go home, Connor.” My voice is as cold as my heart feels right now.
“Listen, just hear me out,” Connor walks toward me, but I step back inside the house.
“No. Go home. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to listen to you. Leave me alone,” I slam the door in his face and tears spill down my cheeks as I listen to him walk away.
As his truck roars to life and he pulls out of the driveway, I crumple against the cool door and my body shakes as the sobs overtake me.
Why does everything that can go wrong explode on bad days?
22
Connor
One Week Later
I step out of the shower and pat myself dry before cinching the towel around my waist. Picking up my phone from the edge of the vanity, I swipe my thumb over it, knowing full well that I haven’t missed a damned thing. Charlotte isn’t the only one who seems to have disappeared into the ether. It feels like everyone in my life has abandoned me in my darkest hour. I’ve been trying to get a hold of Ryan, my SEAL buddy who helped
me with the renovations, but he’s still off on some kind of crazy road trip. I’ve even reached out to the other guys on my SEAL team, Gabe, Jackson, but everyone has moved on. It’s crazy how we all spent so much time together, we were a family. I thought that would never change, but only a year after most of us walked away from that explosion, it’s starting to feel like they were never a part of my life at all. Hell, even my own parents aren’t around to talk to. Of all the weeks they could decide to take off on a romantic Alaskan cruise, they chose this one.
The mother of my child won’t return my calls, my blood brother hates me, my brothers-in-arms are off living their new lives and my own parents are out of town.
Loneliness is too cheerful a word for this void of misery engulfing me. I feel like the darkness I’ve tried so hard to keep at bay, the emptiness that first came after our Humvee got hit, is back. And it’s going to swallow me whole.
I streak my hand across the mirror, wiping away the steam from the shower and stare at my reflection. I dab my fingertips over the bruised cut that Marcus left on my cheek and anger expands in my chest like hot air in a balloon.
“Who the fuck does he think he is? I can’t believe he’s thirty-two and still acts like a toddler who didn’t get his way.” I sigh.
I can’t believe the guy looking back at me in the mirror is only thirty-two. The isolation and worry I’ve dealt with over the last week have aged me by ten years.
I hate this feeling. This helplessness. This isn’t me. You don’t lead a SEAL team by being passive. You don’t win the battle by giving up.
Plucking my phone off the edge of the sink, I push Charlotte’s contact again and listen to it ring as the air deflates from my lungs.
Voicemail.
Again.
I slam the phone down so hard I may have cracked it and storm out into the living room. Walking over to the coffee table I pick up the old album that, only a week ago, Charlotte and I laughed and reminisced over. I start to take it over to my bookshelf when something falls free from the pages. It’s her letter. The one she handed me when she was only thirteen and I was heading off for a new life in the military.
I put the book down on the shelf and pick up the envelope, carefully opening it and tugging out the note inside. I chuckle dryly at the little hearts she made over the I’s and the doodle of an owl she drew in the margin of the loose-leaf. It’s hard to remember her being so young. Always there in the background. Always at my side. The girl who would eventually grow into the woman who my heart longs for. It’s funny how some things, such profound and life defining things, can be right under your nose and we just take them for granted, or worse yet, we ignore them.
I read the words that have already been tattooed into a memory and try to swallow the lump growing in my throat.
Connor,
I can’t believe you’re leaving. I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow or the day after that, for months or even years, knowing that you’re gone. Somehow, I always thought that my greatest enemy, time, would eventually lose. But it looks like it will win again.
Time has already cursed me, making me five years younger than you. The time between our ages is something I try to wish away every single day. If I wasn’t so much younger than you, maybe you could love me like I love you. Maybe your heart could fill with joy when you saw me, the way I do when I catch even a glimpse of you. But now, even that small joy is being stolen from me.
This doesn’t feel real. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you leaving my life. I’ve known since I was little that you were the only one for me. I refuse to believe that I will go the rest of my life without knowing your love.
So, I wish you the best of luck with the SEALs. I really do. But, please know that while you are gone, I will wish on every single shooting star I see, and every single dandelion puff I blow into the wind, and every set of birthday candles, for you to come back and see me as the real me.
Not the little girl you grew up with, but the woman who loves you with all of her heart. Because eventually that birthday cake will have eighteen candles on it, and when it does, I’ll still be here, loving you.
Lottie
I hold the letter against my heart and fight back my emotions. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as I breathe in deeply, pushing them back down. Now isn’t the time to cry. It’s the time to get Charlotte back.
And this time, I’m not taking no for an answer.
23
Charlotte
I kick off my cute flats in the front hall and slump down on the couch, still wearing my office clothes. Normally when I get home, the first thing I like to do is get changed into something more comfortable than this pencil skirt and button up blouse, but I just don’t have the energy. I stretch out on the sofa and feel thankful that Marcus isn’t around much these days as I drift off to sleep.
The world around me begins to slide away. The long day at the office, answering calls at the dental office I work for becomes a part of another world, far away. Soon the only thing I see is a haze of shapes and colors that dance behind my eyelids and swirl around. Until they form up and I see…him.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
I spring up from the couch and look at the front door. For a second I think about ignoring it. It’s probably just some Girl Guides selling cookies or something like that. Although, on second thought, I could go for some mint chocolate right now. I make my way over to the door and turn the knob in my hand, my watering mouth drops open as the dreamy figure that was just visiting me in my sleep stands before me.
“Connor,” I whisper.
“Charlotte, I have something to say and I’m not leaving your yard until you hear me out. If you still want nothing to do with me when I’m finished then I’ll leave, but I at least deserve five minutes.”
Honestly, he’s a sight for sore eyes. My heart flutters as I soak him in. I know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but does it also make heat bloom in your lower belly, spreading out through your entire body, slickening your clenching pussy and burning up in your cheeks?
No? That’s not a thing?
I know that look of determination flickering behind his eyes all too well. It’s the same one he would get whenever the rest of us failed at something. If we couldn’t climb to the top of the tree, Connor would grit his teeth and that glint would appear in his eyes as he showed us all how it was done. If he says he’s not leaving until I hear him out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he camps out in my front yard until I give in.
Luckily it doesn’t have to come to that. The truth is, I’ve missed him.
“Fine, come in,” I step back from the open door and let him pass by me. “Let’s go downstairs, I’m not sure if Marcus is coming back or not.” I lead him down to my basement suite.
I never know when my brother will be home anymore. Ever since he found out I’m carrying Connor’s child, he’s been scarce. Not that I’d even know when he is home. He’s giving me the cold shoulder, barely uttering a word. Sometimes I wonder if he’d break his icy silence even if the house was burning down. Or would he just let the flames consume me?
Marcus and I have had our fights before, there’s no brother and sister in the world who haven’t, but this is different. I can see the disgust in his eyes when he looks at me. It’s hard not to feel completely alone when the only family you have left seems to hate you.
Connor silently follows me to my room and I plop down on the bed and look up at him expectantly. “I’m listening,” I tilt my head and try not to think about Marcus. Instead, focusing on what Connor has to say.
“I’ve been trying to call you all week,” I can see the hurt in his pinched expression.
“I know, I just needed to think things through,” guilt cyclones in my gut and the pain reaches his eyes.
Connor rubs his hand over his neatly trimmed scruff and then down over his black hair. His eyes are locked on the paper in his hand. Did he make notes?
“Charlotte, I’m sorry that I told Marcus
. I really am. I never meant for it to slip out. We started arguing and before I knew it, I told him you were pregnant. It was an accident,” he looks down at me, searching my face for forgiveness.
“I know,” I nod curtly.
“I read your letter again today, the one you gave me when I left,” he looks down at his hand and unfolds the paper in it, holding it up like evidence at a trial. “Do you remember what you said?”
“I do,” my voice creaks as the memory of writing those tear-stained words come back.
“Listen, I know things have been fucked up. I know this isn’t perfect between us, but you’re perfect for me,” he closes the gap between us and kneels on the floor beside my bed, looking up at me.
I can’t move or blink, I’m not even sure if I’m breathing. When he looks at me like that, with the sunset glimmering over his rugged face and his eyes pleading with me, it’s impossible to look away.
“You wrote that you wished away the time between us. Between our ages and between our bodies. Well, it’s gone now, Lottie. I’m back and all I want to do is be with you. I want you to be in my life. I want to raise this child with you,” he grazes his fingertips over my belly. “Those five years between us don’t mean a single thing now. The only thing that matters to me anymore, the only thing I wish for, is for you to give me another chance. Because I love you, Lottie and every day without you is like a day when the sun doesn’t rise. I need you.” He lays his head down in my lap and I run my hand over his hair. Never in my wildest teen fantasies did I ever think Connor McLean would pour his heart out to me like this. For a second, I wonder if I’m still on the sofa upstairs deep inside a dream.
As I feel the heat of Connor’s skin against mine, I know this is real. Just like our love. It’s all real and I’ve been a fool to push it away.
Once Upon a Time Page 8