Page 20 of Going for Three

She smiled widely then nodded. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

I scooped her up then spun her in a circle. When I placed her back on her feet, I led her over to breakfast waiting for us. Once she was seated on one of the bar stools, I took her plate to the microwave to warm it up.

“I have to get footage of this!” Charm squealed before hopping up from her seat.

I shook my head, expecting nothing less. That camera was her life, even if she hated to be in front of it at times. By the time she came back, I was walking around the counter with her food. I switched her plate with mine while I listened to her ramble on to her vlog about my surprise. When I came around the corner, the second time she rushed me.

“Yeah, hos! My man can be romantic,” she teased.

I chuckled. “Damn right, I can be, especially for you.” I set down my plate then wrapped my arms around her waist. “You’re stuck with me now. You know that?”

She melted before my eyes. “I don’t mind. You’re stuck with me, too.”

I kissed her quickly then we sat down to eat.

The image of her scars were still so fresh in my mind that I couldn’t fight the urge to bring it up.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I questioned after a few minutes of silence.

She glanced at me while cutting into a piece of French toast. “Of course.”

I placed down my fork then turned toward her. “I couldn’t help but notice the scars on your wrist.”

She tensed beside me as her chewing slowed.

“I’m not judging you or nothing like that, but I wanted you to know that I see you.”

She returned to eating her food like she hadn’t heard anything I said.

“Charm…”

A heaviness filled the once joyful space. I couldn’t rightfully say that I wanted to be her man and not bring this up. She was carrying my baby, and it broke my heart to know she was in pain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally snapped, dropping her fork on the plate.

“Yes, you do,” I replied gently.

Reaching for her arms, I turned her wrists toward me. She tried to pull away, but I forced her to stand still.

“Don’t hide from me, Charm. This one is new,” I whispered. I rubbed a finger over the raw flesh, making her hiss. “I’m only bringing it up because I want you to know I’m here for you. There’s nothing you can’t share with me. I didn’t ask you to be my girl just for shits and giggles. I want to be a man you can trust and depend on, Charmony. I have your back no matter what.”

She shot to her feet. Her head shook back and forth. “I can’t do this.”

I released her as she turned and sprinted for the bedroom. My chin dropped to my chest as I beat myself up for ruining themoment. I figured she was probably getting dressed to leave, but after a few minutes of silence, I became curious.

I walked toward the bedroom to find the door closed. I eased it open and stuck my head inside. Charm laid in the middle of the bed, crying softly while hugging a pillow. My pulse began to race as I gulped down a mouthful of air that dried everything in sight. I debated on what to do. I could leave her alone to process her emotions on her own, but something was urging me to join her so that’s what I did.

I climbed on the bed and eased up behind her. I placed a kiss on her shoulder then her neck then her cheek. She continued to cry silently, but at least she didn’t push me away.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I wanted you to know I cared.”

She sniffled. “I know. That’s why I didn’t leave. Well, that and your covers smell like vanilla. I realized you’re who I want to be around, even if I’m in my feelings.” She paused for a second, and I felt the quickening of her heart’s pace. “You’re probably wondering why a girl who has it all would do that to herself.”

I snuggled even closer to her. “I am curious, but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

She spun around quickly to face me. I could tell her defenses were down when she looked into my eyes and began to softly stroke my beard. Gone was the polished influencer the world loved. For the first time, I was seeing the woman struggling with the weight of being so beautiful it was all people saw.

“Even though I’m always in the media, I can’t help but feel invisible. Since I was a young girl, my mother molded me to be perfect… to look a certain way or act a certain way for attention. I started cutting…” she whispered the word almost as if she was ashamed to admit that’s what she was doing to herself. “…as a way to silence the lies, noise, and expectations. I thought no one would ever notice, but you did.”

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