I know without a doubt that I’m exhausted. Going for a run wasn’t the brightest idea. “You look tired, too.” I notice the dark rings under his eyes and wonder how much longer he slept in after Rose and I left this morning. I scoot down in the bed and lie on my side, facing him.
“I don’t think I managed a full night’s sleep once in Wisconsin without passing out drunk,” Charlie admits, his eyes staring straight ahead as he lies flat on his back.
I’m shocked by his confession and don’t know how to answer him. Is he trying to tell me he has a drinking problem? “Are you craving a drink right now?” I nervously ask.
“Yes. I want to forget that you’re angry at me and how much I hate myself. I want to forget how much I want to touch you, to feel your skin against mine because not being able to is torture.” He turns his head to the side and his eyes focus on me. I blink, releasing my tears, feeling them trail down my face before dropping onto the pillow. “I want to forget that I’m the reason you’re upset right now.” He reaches out and I hold my breath as he wipes away my tears.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Why are you sorry? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
“I don’t want to be a reason you drink.”
“You’re not. It’s just an unhealthy coping mechanism I’ve managed to pick up. I won’t drink, not ever again.”
I’m surprised by his words, not expecting the ferocity behind them. I lift my arm up over the covers and watch his eyes follow my movements carefully. I rest my hand on the side of his face and let my fingers roam through his hair again. My mind screams at me that I should stop, that I haven’t thought this through, but I ignore it. I listen to his breathing as it quickens, watch his eyes widen and feel the heat radiating from his body as he leans closer to me. I move my hand down from his hair to trail along his face and then down his neck. His eyes close and I watch goose-bumps appear everywhere I touch. I feel that his skin is hot as I flatten my hand along his shoulder, welcoming the heat.
“Zoe?” His voice sounds hoarse and his eyes open to stare at me in question.
I ignore the voice in my head saying that this is wrong; ignore the issues that lie between us and just focus on what I want. What I want is to be in Charlie’s arms, so I move forward.
“Hold me,” I demand, surprising myself with how forceful I sound. He slowly complies, almost as if he’s expecting me to change my mind at any second. Maybe I should. “Kiss me.”
“Are you—”
I don’t let him finish. I push my lips against his and let his taste overwhelm me. I allow myself to get lost in his embrace and relax against his body. I lose myself completely in this kiss, not acknowledging anything to myself other than how good Charlie can kiss and how much I want to never stop doing this.
It’s only when he pulls away that I feel the tears mixing in with our kiss. Only now that I realize I have a steady stream falling down from my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Zoe.” Charlie holds my face in his hands and using just his thumbs, he wipes away my tears only to have more replace them.
“I want to forgive you. I just need some time, I think,” I admit, feeling some clarity in this moment.
“Okay.” He looks deeply into my eyes.
I smile, rubbing my fingers over his stubble. “I’m not sure I like this very much.” My mouth feels like it’s been scratched.
“I’ll get rid of it tomorrow.”
“Do you like it like this?” I ask, not sure I want him to do something he doesn’t want just because of me.
“Not particularly. I just haven’t thought about it.”
He moves a hand away from my face to rest it under the covers and over my hip, his other hand still cradling my side. His upper arm is exposed where the blanket has moved away from us and I’m reminded of the scar I saw there this morning.
“How did you do this?”
Charlie’s eyes follow my hand as I trace the scar and he smiles faintly at it. “A guy accidently shot a nail into me. Bled like crazy.”
“Ouch.” I wince, imaging that pain.
“Yeah, it wasn’t fun. Not as bad as you’d think, though.”
“Have you got any other scars?” I ask curiously.
“I have a chicken pox scar on my leg from when I got them when I was eight. One on my shin where I cut myself on a fence while playing basketball when I was fifteen or sixteen. That one hurt.” Charlie’s eyes drift away as he tries to think of any other ones.
“How long have you played basketball for?” I recall his skill at being able to never miss a basket back at The Windmill.
“I started when I was seven, played all the way through ‘til high school. Hurt my knee and decided I didn’t want to push it anymore.”
“Do you miss playing it?”
“I do. I used to sometimes just go and shoot some hoops after work or on weekends back home. Last time I touched a basketball was at The Windmill.”
“Yes, when you beat Rose and me.”
“To be fair, Rose did let me get the ball off her.” He grins at me.
“I knew it!” I say in mock outrage. “I should have had Will on my side.”
“Do you think that would have improved your odds?” He raises his eyebrow at me, his grin still in place.
“No, I guess not.” I snort, remembering how bad Will had been. Almost as bad as me.
“You never played any sport at school?”
“No, I was hopeless,” I admit easily.
“I might have guessed that from watching you try to shoot.”
“Hey, I almost got the ball in… once… sort of.”
“True, you’re almost a natural,” he jokes.
I feel tired, yet I don’t want to end this moment with Charlie. I want to know everything about him.
“Do you have a big family, or is it only you and your dad?”
“Mostly just me and Dad. He has a sister, but she lives in South America. I’ve only met her twice. My grandma passed away before I was born and my grandpa passed when I was only a few years old. My mom didn’t have any family.”
“What was she like?” I wonder if this is something he doesn’t like to talk about.
“I don’t really know. She was beautiful, and I know she loved me. I remember playing games with her and that she took me to the zoo a lot. She’d always buy me ice cream when we went out. I don’t really remember her being sad. I guess I couldn’t see it, being so young.”
“Are you mad at her?”
“I haven’t really thought about it for a long time. I suppose I was mad for a while, more so when I was old enough to see other kids with their mom’s. I hated Mother’s Day for a long time. I still don’t really like it.”
I let his words soak in, my mind drifting to Dad. “I think deep down I’m still angry at my dad for leaving Mom and me. He’s the reason my mom is the way she is.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Dad left us, Mom was stuck having to support me on her own. She got a full time job at a publishing house and that’s when Frank really stepped in. My mom fell completely in love with him and they were so happy. He died when I was eleven from a heart attack, and she’s never been able to get over it. I don’t think she’s ever worked less than sixty hours a week since then. If Dad hadn’t left, then maybe she wouldn’t have become such a workaholic, and she wouldn’t have been so hurt losing Frank.”
“How old were you when your dad left?”
“Five.” I can still recall that entire day as though I’d only just lived it.
“We both lost a parent around the same age.” He moves his thumb around in small circles along my hip and I feel it distracting me. “You really should attempt to get some sleep.”
I nod and try not to feel too disappointed when he moves his hand away from the side of my face. I’m relieved when he only moves it so he can take my hand that is still resting over the scar on his shoulder. He intertwines his fingers with mine, holding my hand against
his chest. His other hand still sits protectively over my hip.
“Good night, Charlie,” I murmur, closing my eyes and taking another deep breath, letting his scent lull me further towards sleep.
“Night, Zoe.” Charlie’s hand squeezes mine and I let my head move off the pillow to lean on his shoulder. His hand moves from my hip and snakes around me, holding me close against him.
***
My eyes open to find an overcast day shining light into our room. For some reason we have yet to close the curtains once. I’ve managed to move closer to Charlie in my sleep and my hand is no longer in his. He is flat on his back with my arm resting over his torso and I’m half lying on top of him. I hear slight snoring from him and I know he’s still in a deep sleep.
I think back over yesterday and everything that happened between us. I liked that we got to talk last night. Remembering the kiss we shared makes me smile and I move my fingers and touch my lips. My mouth still feels tender from his unshaven face. That definitely has to go.
I’m not sure what this means. We kissed and we slept in each other’s arms. Does that mean I’m really willing to do this? I’m going to forgive him and move on? Do I keep this between us when all I really want is this right here?
Since I’ve been around him, my pain over Dana doesn’t feel so present. It’s continued to be there, yet it’s as though his presence soothes me. I can breathe when he’s around. If I look past how much I’m attracted to him, I know there would still be something there. Charlie can make me laugh and smile even when I’m upset. He listens and understands me. He’s become my friend. I don’t want to lose that between us, almost as much as I don’t want to lose him.
I stay in his arms and drift off back to sleep.
I open my eyes and I’m sure I’ve entered a future dream. I relax, not feeling the usual dread present inside me and glance at my surroundings. I’ve been hoping for a glimpse of my future for months. I’m not going to miss a thing.
I look around and find myself in a bedroom I don’t recognize. I look closely at the picture frames hanging on the wall and see various photos of Charlie and me. Most look like they were taken at gatherings, some with people I don’t recognize and many are only of Charlie and me. I notice one with bright lights behind us and I can easily guess we’re in Vegas. I even spot a photo of us with Rose and Dean.
I look more closely at the rest of the room and know this must be a place where Charlie and I live together. I jump when I see myself rushing past me. Usually when I dream of the future, I’m me in the dream. The only unusual dream I’ve had is when I saw Will attacked and felt invisible. This one is different again and I’ve never had a dream where I can view myself. It’s weird and creepy to see me without it simply being a reflection. Almost like this imposter is stealing my life. I wonder if this is real and something that’ll happen in the future, or if it’s fake.
“Zoe?” Charlie’s voice rings through my ears loudly as he calls out from a different room. I want to leave and explore this place we obviously live in together, but I can’t make my legs move any further than this room.
“In here.” I watch myself madly throwing clothes out of the dresser and onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” Charlie questions her, leaning on the door frame, one hand behind his back.
“I want to wear that blue top you like to dinner. I haven’t been able to find it in ages. Where did I put it?”
“You know I like you in whatever you wear, or whatever you don’t wear.” Charlie walks into the room and I see that behind his back he is hiding a bouquet of flowers.
“Very funny. If I didn’t put it in here, then maybe I accidently put it in one of your draws?” I hear her mumble, completely distracted and not noticing Charlie’s hidden present.
“Why can’t you wear what you’ve got on now?”
“This? I wore this all day at work.”
“I think it looks fine.”
“No, I want the blue one.” She pulls out half of Charlie’s clothes before she looks like she’s going to give up. I watch her move to the closet.
“When did you last wear it?” Charlie sounds patient as he smiles at her.
“I don’t know.”
“The last time I saw you wear it was the night we spent in California for Leo’s first birthday.”
“Oh right, has it really been three months since I wore it?”
“Come on, any of these will be fine.” Charlie points to the pile of clothes spread out over the ground.
“No, it has to be the blue one.”
“Well, did you bring it home from California?”
“Umm…” She stops searching the closet and turns around to face Charlie, her mind obviously focusing on his question.
“Didn’t you spill wine all the way down it?” he prompts.
“Oh...” Her checks redden.
“And I seem to recall Leo pulled on a thread and we lost half the shirt, right?”
“That was that shirt?” She appears defeated as she sits down on the ground, looking upset.
“I think it was. Why does it matter if you wear the blue one?” Charlie’s voice softens.
“Because tonight is our anniversary…”she cries.
I lean in, suddenly very interested in this conversation. Our anniversary? How far into the future are we? What do you take our anniversary from? The day we met? Our first kiss? Or us being reunited right here and now? “…and on our first official date I wore that shirt. You loved that shirt.”
“Zoe, I only loved that shirt because of the woman wearing it. If you can recall, I usually couldn’t wait to get you out of that shirt.” Charlie sits down on the floor in front of her and places his hands over hers. I’m struck by how much in love they look, by how adoringly Charlie gazes at her.
“I just thought I could wear it. I can’t believe I forgot that it got destroyed.” Tears fall down her face and I’m surprised by how upset she is. I’m not that emotional, am I?
“What is this really about? I’ll buy you another blue shirt. Hell, I’ll search everywhere until I find that exact shirt, if you want me to.” He wraps an arm around her and she leans her head on his shoulder. They look comfortable together.
“It won’t matter. Dana bought me that shirt,” she whispers and I only barely catch her words. My heart sinks as soon as her words set in. Dana has never bought me clothing before, and especially not a blue shirt. This can’t be real.
“I’m sorry.”
“How did I forget that it was destroyed?” she asks angrily.
“Well, baby brain can do that to you, right? Last week you forgot to take your keys out of the front door.”
Baby brain? What? My jaw drops to the ground and I forget how to breathe.
“Will you still love me when I get fat? When I can’t even fit through the door?” her voice whines.
“I’ll love you forever, Zoe. Nothing can change that and especially not you forgetting that next week is our anniversary.”
“Next week? But I thought we have reservations for tonight?”
“We do, but they were just for dinner to say I love you. For our anniversary, I’ve arranged something special.”
“Really? What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You can’t do that to me, please?” she pleads as she crawls forward and pushes Charlie down onto his back, leaning over him. “I’m sure I could get it out of you some way.”
Charlie laughs and then lifts his arm up and fumbles his hand around the bed until they wrap around the flowers he has left there.
“You wouldn’t do anything untoward to a man who just brought you flowers, would you?” Charlie brings them under her arm and pops them in-between them. I watch her face light up as she sees them. Already the sadness ebbs away and she leans back to get a better look at them.
“What are these for?”
“They are for the funeral of your blue shirt. Now come on, we’re going to miss our rese
rvation.”
I watch her smile at him before everything starts to fade away.
My eyes open abruptly. My heart is hammering away in my chest and I can’t catch my breath. What was that? It didn’t feel like a regular dream. It felt too real for that, but it can’t be real. In that dream Charlie and I looked like a normal couple. We had a home, a room full of photos of friends, vacations, and I was pregnant. There is no way any of that could be real, because if it is, then it means we get away from P.A.G.E. and are free to live our lives. It means that Charlie and I get a happy ending.
Hope flares inside me, and even though the thought that I was pregnant in that dream terrifies me, I still want that dream. I want that future with Charlie. If that dream is real, then maybe there is a way out of this. Perhaps P.A.G.E. can be defeated.
“Are you okay?” Charlie’s voice jolts me back to the present and I focus my eyes on him. He’s lying on his side, leaning over me, looking worried.
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a few minutes, where did you go?”
I shrug because I have no idea how to answer that.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He continues staring at me and I know he doesn’t believe me. “Is this about Dana? Did you dream about her death again?”
His words crush the hope that has been building inside me. It reminds me of my words in the dream. The ones where the other me had spoken of a blue shirt that Dana got her. Dana has never given me clothing before. Not ever.
“We should get up.” I throw the covers off me and climb out. I ignore the chilled air and rush over to the bathroom, not looking back at Charlie once as I close the door. I lean back on it, trying to catch my breath.
That must have been a normal dream. It merely felt more real because I wanted it to be real. That has to be it.
I step in front of the basin and run the water before splashing my face several times. I take deep breaths and try to push the dream out of my mind. I have bigger issues to face today, like what the hell happened last night with Charlie and what does it mean? And why do I have a nagging feeling that things are going to be taking a turn for the worst soon?
Taken By Force (Taken Trilogy Book 2) Page 18