Page 424 of The Doctors Will See You Now

I deleted that one too and settled on something a little less crazy.

Me: Sorry, my phone was on silent. I’m still on the mend, but doing okay.

Technically, I wasn’t lying. My phone was on silent, and I had rewatched the entire first season of GoT. Well, yesterday, but that’s just minor details, right?

Nick: I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was starting to worry.

Nick: I miss you. When can I see you?

I miss you. Tears swallowed my eyes, and my heart ached at his words.

Fuck, I missed him, too.

I dropped my phone onto the empty cushion beside me and buried my head in my hands.

I couldn’t stop the tears after that. Like a faucet, the liquid emotion rolled down my cheeks in a big, fat stream. I was a mess, and worst of all, I had a feeling that soon, I’d always be missing him.

It’d been the longest weekend with Lexi of my life.

Not because I didn’t like the time I’d spent with her or because she’d been any less amusing in every aspect of her day, but because I’d texted Charlotte what felt like forty-five times and only gotten five in return—quite brusque in nature, at that—and every time I’d attempted to call, she’d declined to answer.

So, as soon as I’d dropped Lexi off, I’d gone right to Moon Grill and gotten the biggest tub of chicken noodle soup they sold, and then come straight to Chinatown to the shitty apartment Charlotte was still living in, thanks to Harry and Doreen. She’d yet to work up the courage to kick them out.

I didn’t blame her. They were about the nicest people on the planet, and if I owned the house, I’d probably just wait them out until they died. Unless they made a bid to become the oldest people on the planet, it’d be within a decade.

“Charlotte,” I called, knocking on the door for the second time since I’d arrived. I could hear her moving around inside, but she’d yet to say anything—or make her way to the door—and I was officially starting to worry.

“Come on, Char. Open up, please.”

When she finally opened the door thirty seconds later, my whole world collapsed.

Tearstained and mottled red, her skin looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were swollen, their sea-blue color a muddy lake water color, and she couldn’t even look me in the eye.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, rushing inside and taking her back with me until the sound of the door slamming rang out behind me. “What happened, baby? Are you okay?”

She bit her lip, and her crying renewed, two fresh tears cutting edgy tracks down her tortured skin.

“Sweet Jesus, Char. Calm down. Tell me what I can do. Are you just sick?”

She shook her head and collapsed to the couch, so I set the soup recklessly on the coffee table and followed her down, framing her jaw with my hands until her wet eyes met mine again.

“I just…I can’t believe this is happening. Three days to think it through, and I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“This? What is this? Help me out here, sweetheart.”

She took a deep, shaky breath and shrugged my hands off her jaw. Her energy was palpable as she jumped up from the couch again and started to pace like a lion in the zoo. I followed her every move as she worked up the courage to get started.

“Oh God. I can’t believe this. I just can’t—”

“Charlotte,” I said her name in an attempt to redirect her. She was all over the place, and I really needed clear, concise answers. My mind was beginning to get the best of me, and only worst-case scenarios were filling my thoughts.

“Okay,” she proclaimed, clenching her fists and turning toward me, her every facet an absolute mess. “You know how I told you about leaving a guy at the altar?”

My eyebrows pulled together, and she snapped, “At trivia night!”

“I know,” I consoled. “I’m just confused about the direction of this conversation. But I’m sorry, go on.”

“Well, apparently, you know him. Apparently, you know him well.”