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“Are you saying I’m not way too handsome or funny? Charlie, you wound me. Here I thought I was everything to you,” he deadpanned.
I still lay on my back beside him, so I rolled my head over in his direction and gave him a sweet smile. “You are everything to me, but you’re so full of yourself sometimes.”
“Well, I’m not the only one full of me.” He stared at me after that, waiting, waiting for the joke to land, and once it did, I rolled my eyes and tried not to chuckle—but I ended up chuckling anyways.
The jerk.
“Back to the whole point of this conversation. What do you want for your birthday?”
I thought about it. “I don’t know.” When he only lifted his eyebrows in acome ongesture, I added, “I really don’t.” It wasn’t like I enjoyed going shopping at the mall or anything. I didn’t have friends I went out and hung with. I wasn’t materialistic. “I have everything I want already.”
The way Brett looked at me after I said that was case in point. I had someone who loved me, someone who’d do anything to protect me. I had a man who was willing to go to hell if it meant keeping me safe.
And not only that, but my tormentor was gone. Uncle Dave was no more, and my stalker too. I didn’t have to worry about anyone hurting me ever again. So, how could I lay there and tell Brett about all the things I wanted when, in fact, I had everything I could possibly need already?
After a while, Brett mumbled, “You are absolutely no help at all, Charlie. You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise you’d have nothing going for you.” He let out a dramatic sigh after that, as if I made things difficult on purpose.
I rolled onto my side and curled against him, smiling to myself.
I was doing a lot of that lately—smiling. Brett brought it out of me. All those feelings I’d thought I’d never feel, all those desires I’d thought I’d never have; they came flooding to the surface now that I was with him.
For the first time in my life, I was happy. Content. I wanted a long future with the man beside me. I didn’t know how we’d get there, but that didn’t matter. We’d figure it out together, one step at a time.
Chapter Twenty-Two – Charlie
Life went on, as life often did. The days blurred together. I started up my job at the indie bookstore again, and Barbara, the owner—a sixty-five-year-old woman who’d never married and never had kids of her own—was thrilled to hear that I had a boyfriend.
Not just that, but that I was happy. Even she could see the difference in me.
Weeks went by, until one morning I woke up and, instead of lugging myself out of bed and getting dressed to go to work, I lay there and let myself fall back asleep. A day off. Also my party—but that wouldn’t start until later.
Since it was my party, my mom and dad did everything. I didn’t have to help clean the house or put up decorations. The only thing I had to do that morning was shower and do my hair. I was feeling rather satisfied with my life, so I actually sat down and curled my hair.
Well, to the best of my abilities, anyway. My sister could make it look like an easy thing, but if you weren’t used to holding the iron and twirling your hair around it, let's just say the only easy thing about it was burning yourself, because ouch.
Once my hair was done, I did my best to put on some makeup. Makeup wasn’t normally my thing, but I had the time, and I wanted to look good for Brett. I wouldn’t look like a baby today. I’d look like a twenty-year-old woman who’d prettied herself up for her boyfriend.
Not saying I wanted to impress him, but… okay, no, that’s exactly what I wanted.
And, what was more, since it was the middle of June, I wouldn’t be wearing what Brett affectionately dubbed any of my grandma sweaters. I chose a pair of flowery shorts and a light blue tank top. The shorts’ fabric went well past the scars on my inner thighs, so I didn’t have to worry about flashing anyone in my family my secret.
They didn’t know I’d cut myself, and if I had my way, they never would, just like they would never know the truth about Uncle Dave.
Maybe things wouldn’t have been bad, if I’d told them the truth years ago. Maybe they would’ve believed me and treated me the same. My shame and guilt wouldn’t allow it, though, so whatever may or may not have happened would remain what-ifs in the back of my mind.
Sometime around one, Brett texted me to let me know he might run a little late, but that he’d be here and not to open any presents without him.
Ugh. That man and presents. The way he talked about presents made me think he wanted to get me some grand thing. But, honestly, I didn’t need anything expensive. I didn’t need any jewelry or anything like that. I just wanted him to be here.
I decided to be a little cheeky and message him back with:Uh-oh. I guess I’ll have to invite my backup boyfriend.
To which Brett immediately said,Backup? Whoa. Hold up. Does this mean I can have a backup girlfriend?
Sitting at my desk in my room, I rolled my eyes at the phone, as if he could see my face. Leave it to Brett to turn my joke back around on me. What a jerk.No, you’re not. I am, though. His name is Ian. Maybe you know him?
I might know him. Oh, here he is now. He’s asking if he can have a backup girlfriend.
My fingers were quick to respond with,I hate you.
