by C. S. Janey
Why had he opened up a bar and given it a name in basically a memory of me, though? She questioned his motives in her mind, turning around to look at herself in the mirror. I’m so confused; his past actions and his current ones just don’t fit well. What if I really had been wrong about what happened?
Her thoughts only made her more depressed; her eyes stinging with a warning of impending tears made her take a deep breath, trying to stop the feeling of panic that had come upon her suddenly. She was so concentrated on calming herself down that she jumped at the sudden voice behind her.
“Excuse me, are you Charlotte? Are you okay?”
Turning around, she faced the woman, who stopped walking at the same time. Giving the woman - who had straight black hair with hazel eyes and about three inches shorter than Charlotte - a quick glance from head to toe, she thought her sane enough looking so she answered. “Yes, I’m Charlotte. You are…?”
Smiling, she stuck out her hand. “Gwyneth Lyons.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you; why were you looking for me?” She was confused but she still shook the woman’s hand quickly.
“Oh. Well, my best friend Lucien is a friend of Trevin's. He looked pretty upset when Lucien and I walked in so we were talking to him and he mentioned that you were in here so…” She trailed off then, a sheepish look on her face as she shrugged as if to say ‘what else do you think I came in here for?’
“Ah. You were sent in to try and entice me out then, I take it?”
Gwyneth looked relieved as she nodded. “Trevin said you became upset when you figured out what the bar name meant.” When Charlotte started to blush, she rushed ahead. “Don’t be embarrassed! Lucien and I have heard so much about you over the years. Trevin used to talk about you all the time and would still mention you from time to time when something reminded him of you. When he mentioned you were here tonight I was so excited for him!”
Groaning, Charlotte put her head into her hands. He used to speak about me all the time? What the hell? This total stranger knows who I am; who else knows about me?
“Are you sick?” Gwyneth implored, putting her hand on Charlotte's shoulder, genuine concern on her face as she frowned.
At that question, Charlotte lifted her face and let out a laugh of pure amusement, running a hand through her hair to push it back out of her face. “No, I’m not sick. I am just wondering how much everyone knows about me and what happened between Trevin and I.”
Gwyneth shrugged. “I don’t know much. He spoke about you as if he thought you were going to come back any day now when I was around but Lucien is closer with him than I am. All I know is that he is crazy about you.”
“I see,” Charlotte murmured, but in truth, she didn’t. She was completely puzzled at this point and her thoughts were scattered, chaotic from not knowing what way was up when it came to Trevin. “Good to know.”
Catching the hint of sarcasm in her voice, Gwyneth asked, “Are you ready to go back out there now? He is probably wondering why I haven’t convinced you to come back out yet.”
Sighing, Charlotte nodded. “Might as well, I suppose. It appears Trevin and I have much to talk about even though I still don’t know when that discussion will take place.”
They left the bathroom, Gwyneth leading the way - which happened to be all the way back to the bar. Weaving her way through the now crowded dance floor, Charlotte took this opportunity to study Trevin. He had seen them coming and was staring right at Charlotte, but she avoided his direct gaze.
In ten years, he hadn’t changed much. His black hair was cropped close to his head and around his ears, basically similar to how a man of business would wear his hair; his face was slightly leaner than it had been at twenty-one and she knew from touching his arms and chest that he was more muscular as well. Wearing black dress pants and a white button down shirt with the first button undone and the sleeves rolled up to just above his elbows, he was just slightly disheveled but clean cut and still so handsome she felt her heart beating faster every single time she laid eyes on him.
He grinned at her perusal, sticking his hand out to her as she approached for her to grasp in her own.
“Don’t you see I named this place in memory of you and how much you meant to me? Take my hand to affirm that you accept my apology, please.” His eyes practically begged her to take his hand and let him know that all was forgiven. In that moment, though, she knew that taking his hand wasn’t the right thing to do.
Walking right past his outstretched hand, she stopped just shy of bumping into him and his eyes widened in surprise.
Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and bringing his ear close to her mouth where she whispered, “I understand.” Then, she turned his face to hers and kissed him square on the lips before he had a chance to react.
Chapter Eight
Whoa!
That is all Trevin could think of as Charlotte kissed him out of nowhere. It was so unexpected his brain had yet to catch up to the action.
She understood? What did she understand? Understood that the name was to illustrate what she meant to him and based on a memory between them? These thoughts ran through his head in a matter of seconds and before he could react, she ended the kiss, stepping away from him.
Watching her as she walked over to the bar to get another drink, he looked over at Gwyneth and mouthed, “what the hell?” Gwyneth shrugged to indicate she had no idea, yet she was grinning at him like a fool.
Charlotte returned with a drink in hand, taking a seat on the stool Trevin was standing next to. Taking a sip, she threw an innocent smile in his direction. “So…where is this Lucien guy I was told about while in the bathroom?”
Trevin pulled up a stool and faced her as he sat on it, nodding in the direction of the dance floor. “He’s over there hitting on some chick on the dance floor.” With a conspiratorial smile, he leaned in close to Charlotte’s face and whispered “Lucien's got a thing for Gwyneth, but she’s oblivious and he begged me not to tell her.”
Quirking a brow at his obvious glee at having this knowledge, she flicked a glance over at Gwyneth. “That’s interesting. She seems to be watching Lucien dance with that girl instead of chatting up another dude. Do you think she has a thing for him too?”
Shrugging, Trevin grabbed her hand and clasped it between both of his. “No idea, but I won’t get involved with it. I do know that in order to even have a chance of becoming involved with you again, I have some serious explaining to do though.”
Charlotte's chest tightened at his words, suddenly feeling like she couldn't breathe. Panic rose in her throat as an unbidden fear filled her. Shaking her head vehemently, she placed her drink on the bar and stood up.
“I can’t right now Trevin. Oh god, take me outside please, I can’t breathe!” Her face was pale and tightly drawn, displaying her distress; Trevin quickly stood, grabbing her arm to guide her through the bar and out the door.
Once outside, he released her arm as she drank air into her lungs, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as if trying to warm them. Standing there, he felt helpless because he didn’t know why she had gotten so upset by what he had said to her. Not knowing what to do, he offered the obvious conclusion to their evening.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
She nodded, color having returned to her face and he sighed in relief that her panic attack wasn’t going to lead to a hospital visit - something that had happened a time or two with Shelby when she had reacted to something in a similar way to how Charlotte just had.
Walking her back to the car, he touched her shoulder as they reached it and she whirled to face him; that is when he saw the tear streaks on her face.
Now it was his chest constricting, hating that he had inadvertently made her cry with his comments. “What is wrong Charlotte? Why did you react that way to what I said?”
Her lower lip wobbled as she tried to hold back the tears. “I don’t know. I just felt so upset the instant you sa
id you needed to explain things to me. I had even told Gwyneth in the bathroom that I knew we should talk but, I don’t know…” she bit her lower lip, a fact Trevin tried to ignore as it made him want to kiss her even though he knew it was not the time to attempt that.
Instead, he pulled her into a hug before she could say anything more, holding her head against his shoulder as he stroked her hair. She sniffled and when she started to pull away, he let her go, looking her in the face once again.
“Can we talk about this later? I really just want to go home and get some sleep; I feel so confused,” her eyes pleaded with him and he knew that one more day really wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
“Sure,” he acquiesced, opening the car door for her and closing it for her once she’d climbed in.
Before getting into the car, he took a deep breath, quelling his desire to ask any more questions for this evening as he knew he would want to do on the way home.
Just let it go for now; she obviously needs more time and you’ve got all the time in the world, he argued with his heart but in his head he knew that not pushing her was the smart thing to do.
Climbing in, he started up the car and drove out of the parking lot.
Reaching over, he grasped her hand in his and she didn’t protest but she didn’t say anything either.
The car was unusually quiet the whole way there. Once they had pulled into her driveway though, she turned to face him from her seat.
“I’m sorry, Trevin. I know that you really want to work things out, but I can’t…”
He cut her off with a growl of frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. “Why won’t you give me a chance to explain? Don’t you think I deserve a chance to explain when you didn’t give me one all those years ago? Maybe if you quit running from your problems, this whole mess wouldn’t have even happened!”
Charlotte slapped him then, the crack of her palm against his cheek resounding through the enclosed space of the car. Trevin gaped at her in shock as she opened the door and got out of the car, slamming it behind her.
It wasn’t until she was inside and he was gone from the driveway that she realized she had just done the very thing he’d accused her of doing - running.
~*~
Trevin hated Sundays, especially when he’d stayed out late the previous night. He was glad he’d given up drinking a long time ago because that just made the day even worse; now it was tolerable but it still meant Monday was arriving the next day. Looking over at his clock and seeing that it was only seven a.m., he honestly didn’t want to get up, but he was one of those people that once he woke up in the morning, he was up for the day.
Grumbling to himself and throwing the covers to the side, he prepared to get out of bed. Lying there with his eyes closed, he felt like an utter moron for what he had said to Charlotte the night before. He was just so frustrated with being unable to talk to her about what happened; he figured it would help things, not hurt them. She needed to know it hadn’t been what she’d thought it was and that he had chased after her. He told her that he loved her - why didn’t she believe him?
Shivering, he realized he’d gotten lost in thought after taking the blankets off to get out of bed, and he was butt naked. You could tell fall had arrived - seventy degrees one day followed by a night that fell down to the forty's. Shoving a hand through his hair, he sat up and squinted, looking around for his glasses.
Nobody knew he wore glasses. He had contacts for public, but by the time he got home, his eyes were killing him so he would switch to these ugly things. At least, he considered them to be ugly although they had cost him nearly three hundred dollars and the retail lady at the eye place had said they were stylish; they were slim black rimmed with no piece under the lenses and in truth, they fit his face perfectly. He’d already searched for over an hour before finally just settling on these before he spent even more money on something he didn’t like.
He snorted at the memory, searching for his glasses with one hand while resting his head in the other while simultaneously rubbing his eyes. Nearly crushing them with his search, slap and grasp routine, he shoved them onto his face as he blinked rapidly, happy to be able to see.
Not even Charlotte knew he was this blind although it hadn’t always been this bad; his eyesight had only started going terribly wrong during his last year of college. He had ignored it for a while, thinking all that sleep deprivation and drinking was exacerbating the problem, but nope - the eye doctor had given him quite the lecture about how he should have gotten his eyes checked a hell of a lot sooner. Now Trevin went twice a year just for good measure, but so far, his eyesight hadn’t changed in almost two years which he was glad for - well, except for the fact he couldn’t see a damn thing even two feet in front of him without his glasses or contacts now.
Now that he could see, he pulled on some black jogging pants and a white t-shirt, heading towards the kitchen to find some breakfast. On his way down the steps from the top floor, which is where two of the four of the bedrooms plus one of the three bathrooms were, his mind wandered back to Charlotte.
He truly wanted her to come see this house. When they were younger, this house was their favorite along the path near the lake; they’d joke about living in it one day, and he knew that she didn’t actually know what house was his, but he knew she’d probably be shocked to find out since it wasn’t and hasn’t ever been cheap.
Passing the second floor where the other two bedrooms were - the house was three stories - he thought about calling her to see if she would come over and talk; rethinking it, perhaps an email would be better, but he couldn’t make up his mind. Should he wait for her to talk to him by calling him or should he accidentally run into her again, especially now that he knew she would always be at the school in the mornings?
Trevin knew they were meant to be together. What were the chances of her coming back after all this time single, with him not being with anyone either? Granted, he had stopped dating over three years ago when he had realized that nobody would ever compare to Charlotte in his mind. He knew that he had never stopped loving her, and it wasn’t fair to the women he dated who obviously wanted it to end up somewhere with marriage and family and the happily ever after so he broke it off, several times when he knew it wasn’t going that way. But he always did it gently, and they knew from it being a small town exactly who Charlotte was even if they had never met her. Her leaving had been a tremendous thing because she was from here and it used to be bandied about that he was the person who had “run her off” which wasn’t true because he would have totally kept her here if he could have.
Heating up the stove, he cracked open a few eggs and mixed them with some milk before pouring the mixture into the pan. Wandering around the kitchen making the rest of his breakfast while keeping a sharp eye on the stove, he went back to his thoughts.
Trevin knew that people might think he was obsessed with Charlotte, but the truth was that he was just a one woman man - a rare breed from everything he had ever learned when it came to what people thought about men and their dating habits. And truth was simply that she had been everything he had ever wanted in a girl since the first time he had laid eyes on her.
Placing everything he needed to eat on the table, he turned off the eggs and put them on his plate before setting down to eat.
Then there came a knock at the front door.
I sure hope that is Charlotte, was his first thought as he stood back up and went to answer the door.
~*~
As he opened the door, he knew that he had been hoping for too much.
Shelby stood at the door, smiling at him with a mischievous look in her eyes. Her face was practically filled with glee at him opening the door for her.
“Hey Trevin! I’ve come to visit!” She bounced through the door like a little kid who had consumed just a bit too much sugar for this early in the morning. “Did you miss me?”
“Shelby…it is only just barely past ei
ght in the morning. What made you think it was appropriate for you to visit me this early in the day?”
Instantly, she frowned at the censure he had let creep into his voice, and he could see the tears filling her eyes. “Are you mad at me Trevin? I knew you would be awake, and I missed you. Please don’t be mad at me.” He noticed her lower lip wobbling as if she were going to burst out sobbing if he turned her away, so he shook his head in denial, sighing.
“No, I am not mad at you, but I am in the middle of eating breakfast. So you can come and sit in the kitchen with me if you want.”
He walked away, knowing she would follow immediately without further comments, which she did.
Sitting back down at the table to eat, he watched her flounce around the kitchen, humming the whole time.
It is like she’s in her own little world and she came over just to let me be her audience, he mused. She looked over at him then and realizing he must have made a sound in his amusement, he smiled at her, taking another bite of his eggs.
“What is so funny, Trevin?” She cocked her head to the side as she put her hands on her hips as if she were offended, but he could see that she seemed pleased at his amusement.
Shaking his head, he took another bite of his food as he observed her from half-lidded eyes.
Shelby wasn’t wearing a dress today which surprised him because she usually wore dresses or lacy things that made her look like a little girl playing dress up. That wasn’t the case today, and she looked like the grown up she actually was.
She was wearing dark, skinny jeans that accentuated her figure, something he quickly looked away from because he didn’t feel right checking her out for more than one reason. Her sweater had a V-neck and was pink. It appeared to be quite soft so he would guess that it was cashmere since it was her favorite fabric - a fact she had informed him of in the past even though he hadn’t asked. She was wearing her hair down, along with a headband that was holding her bangs back from her forehead.