Page 92 of Stay With Me

“She did. And over time, she lost more and more of herself to him.” He releases a sarcastic laugh. “Hell, it’s like a family curse. Fitzgerald men apparently suck the spirit out of the women who love them.”

My shoulders tense as a gnawing discomfort with the direction this is going overcomes me.

“Charlie, stop it. That’s not universally true. We need to talk about the other day, but not like this.”

He’s clearly in pain and I try to infuse compassion into my tone, hoping it will be like a soothing balm to his hurt.

He doesn’t acknowledge my statement.

“It’s probably why it affected me so much when you told me you felt like you lost yourself to Teddy. I saw that with my mom, so I immediately knew what you meant and I hated the thought of that happening to you. You’re my friend and you deserve to shine and flourish, not have your light and talents diminished because of who you’re in a relationship with.”

“I’m more than your friend.”

Charlie doesn’t respond to that, either. It’s like I’m on mute and he can’t hear any of my words. He looks down at his hands, then stands and walks over to the deck railing, resting his palms on it. I watch him for several long moments until I get the courage to walk over to and join him.

Without looking at me, he says, “I care about you. But we can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to you.”

I rest my hand on his arm and try not to be hurt when he flinches in response. “Stop and let’s talk about it. I get you’re upset that I saw everything the other day, but that has nothing to do with us.”

Now he turns and fixes his sad eyes on mine. “It has everything to do with us.” He snaps, in a tone he’s never used with me before. “You heard my dad—I’m like him. You saw my anger. And you saw what being with someone like him—like me—can do to a woman.”

“You are not like that man.” My voice is low, but sounds angry, even to me. How could he even think to compare himself to the monster his father is. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. We’ve not been able to tell Trina about us yet, and I’m not relationship material.” He looks away from me and practically whispers, “You saw my rage.”

I put my hand on his forearm again and he looks down at it for several long seconds before pulling away.

“You’re not him. You’re never gonna be him. I know you wouldn’t do that to me, Charlie. You help me shine and you accept me just as I am. You’ve always seen me and made room for me to be bigger, not smaller.”

He runs his hand through his hair and grabs a fistful of it, then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and turning toward me. My heart races as I see determination and hardness settle into his hazel eyes, though it seems like he’s looking through me, not at me.

“This was… nice. But it’s not what I want anymore. I was never gonna be the man to settle down with you. I like my freedom and my space. And I only care about you as a friend.”

At first, I’m stunned, hurt, but then I see this for what it is. He’s freaking out. And I grow angry that he doesn’t trust us enough to try to talk through this.

I poke him in the chest— hard. My blood is boiling, and I guess I’m going to have to practice tough love if I’m going to snap him out of this. “You’re lying. You don’t design your home around a woman’s dreams if you only care about her as a friend. And you told me you wanted me.”

“I’m not lying. I told you before, I don’t lie to you. And the house”—he shrugs nonchalantly, like he’s not breaking up with me after the amazing few weeks we’ve had together—“I built it to your taste just because I’m a guy. I couldn’t imagine it all on my own.”

Moisture builds behind my eyes, and seconds later teardrops fall down my cheeks. “Please don’t do this, Charlie. What we have here is amazing and you’re a good man. You’re just scared you’re going to be like him. I know you want me, us. You’ve told me that.”

“There’s a difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting a relationship. In case it’s not clear, I only wanted the former. And it’s run its course.”

I’m not sure I could be more shocked and hurt if he physically slapped me across the face. I know my mouth is hanging open and I take several seconds to pull myself together.

“Go to hell,” I whisper.

He looks away, then clears his throat.

“So, listen, I’m gonna head out for a while. If you could move back to the guest bedroom before bedtime…”

When I don’t respond, he spares me a quick glance and I swear, for a split second, there’s a flash of regret in his eyes. But if it was there, it’s quickly replaced with emptiness.

* * *

CHARLIE

Walking away from Emily after I intentionally hurt her with my words and lied to her for the first time since meeting her, an overwhelming nausea hits me, causing my mouth to water, and a painful tightness grips me in the pit of my stomach.

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