Page 271 of The Grand Duel
Mason’s name flashes on my phone screen, and I stare at it, knowing I should answer but not having the energy.
He calls me every day at six p.m., like clockwork. He asks me how I am, if I need anything, and then tells me that Charlie’s fine, that he’ll be travelling back to the UK soon.
What that’s supposed to mean to me, I have no idea.
He didn’t show up at the office on Monday morning, but Edna quickly informed me she’d had a phone call to “explain everything.”
I went to my office and cried after she told me that.
Because why couldn’t he pick up the phone and call me?
Why can’t he explain it to me?
When he failed show up on Tuesday, I took my laptop back to the cottage and worked from the sofa with the dogs curled up around me, not wanting anyone to see how much of a mess I was.
It’s now Wednesday night, and after a day in the office with Edna acting like I’m made of glass, I’m sat on the sofa again, the dogs by the fire, leaving me feeling pathetically alone in the silence.
I let Mason’s call ring out and then switch my phone onto Do Not Disturb, not wanting to speak to anyone.
I pick at the blanket, my eyes burning as I think about all the nights I’ve spent on this sofa with Charlie. The way he’d wrap me up and talk to me all night long about anything and everything.
I probably should have known it was too good to be true.
That the way I felt with him, in his home, wasn’t something I should bet my heart on.
I snap my eyes towards Luna when she bolts upright, her little eyes trained on the door. My heart jars at the sound of keys twisting in the lock a moment later and sit up in the seat.
Is he…has he come back?
He’s the only other person with a key.
It builds in me, emotion on emotion on emotion. That feeling of them coming home. That feeling of knowing it’s not just me anymore. Hope, want, need, sadness—burning, aching sadness.
I swallow, clenching the blanket in my hands, my eyes welling at the relief.
But then my sister walks in through the archway with Willow in her arms, Charlie at her back with bags clutched in both hands, and my world stops spinning completely.
“Jove?” I whisper in disbelief, standing and rounding the sofa.
My gaze goes between them all, settling eventually on Charlie as my head tries to catch up with my racing heart.
Guilt. It’s what he feels at his core. I can see it. Beneath heavy shoulders, red, tired eyes, and days of no sleep. He stands with his guilt pouring out of him.
And I hate how much I need him to not feel that way. How much it hurts to see him so broken.
He doesn’t hold my gaze, not managing more than a couple of seconds of the sight of me before he places down the bags and turns to walk out of the house.
His house.
Our home.
I watch him leave, the tears sliding down my cheeks burning into my skin.
My baby sister’s arms wrap around me, hugging me in a way only she ever could, and I fall apart in the safety of them.
Charlie
I kick off my shoes with Ave held in my arms, her sleepy body warm against my chest. I settle back into the nook, my eyes drifting closed as I let the weight of the precious life in my arms comfort me.