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“When I left the EMT took one of my neighbors. They were awake and talking, but I think they broke something in the fall.”
Holy shit.
“Anyways,” Violet said, shaking her head. “Davis obviously doesn’t want me staying with him, so he can go.”
“Hang on,” Liv said. “We can’t have you here because all the wedding gifts arrived early, and my sister is flying in and out over the next three weeks for the wedding. Micah is moving right. So, your options are Charlie or your mom.”
Violet stared at her best friend. “I have my car.”
“Hang on,” Charlie asked incredulously. “Between me and your mother, your best option is your car?”
“Violet,” Liv said firmly. “You said you were friends. After the wedding, you can stay here, but I’m trying to prevent you from sleeping in your car.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s obvious he isn’t going to let me.”
Lewis shook his head, looking frustrated. He knew how Charlie felt about his house. He didn’t let people come over. He didn’t even let Lauren stay.
Most people didn’t like his home. It was old, original, and a family heirloom. Lauren had spent years picking it apart and telling him to sell it. Over time, he simply stopped talking about it.
“I’ll do it,” Charlie said anyways.
Everyone in the room turned to him.
“What?” Lewis asked.
“I said I’ll do it.”
Lewis only stared.
“I-it’s fine,” Violet said. “A hotel will open up eventually, I can-“
“I have a whole floor you can stay on,” Charlie said. “We don’t even have to see each other.”
“I can’t ask this-“
“You didn’t ask,” Liv interrupted. “I did. It’s best and safest option. You’ll go insane if you stay with your mom and someone could hurt you if you’re in your car.” And as far as Charlie was concerned - that wasn’t an option. No one got to hurt her. “I promise you can stay here when the wedding is over.”
Violet looked torn between crying and yelling, but she turned to him. Her expression turned nervous and hopeful.
Charlie would regret this decision in two days when they were back to fighting but at that moment, it was the best decision of his life.
“Okay," she said, quietly. “Thank you. Text me the address.”
“I … don’t have your phone number," Charlie said.
“Right," Violet said. She pulled her phone out of a pocket of her dress and tried to unlock it.
Nothing happened.
“It’s dead. Great!” She snapped. She looked so frustrated, but her eyes were still watery.
“Just … follow me back," Charlie said, her anger feeling off when it wasn’t directed at him. “I’ll lead you there.”
“Fine," Violet said. “I’ll need to shower.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Violet glared at him, as if she took what he had said as an insult. He didn’t mean it as one. She did look objectively awful, or as close as she could get to it anyways.
