Page 7 of July
5
Garrett
Ishould have known it wouldn’t be that easy to win Charity’s heart back. We have too much history, baggage, and hurt feelings between us blocking our path to slipping back into a romantic relationship with each other––despite how much I would love to do precisely that.
Knowing that we have much to discuss, I suggest, “How about a walk along the river?”
“Sounds lovely,” she agrees.
Craving a physical connection with her, I put my arm around her shoulders as we walk. I bask for a moment enjoying the zinging tingle touching her creates, thrilled that she doesn’t pull away. If she’s willing to accept my embrace, she must not hate me too much. That means there’s hope for us. Even if it’s just a tiny sliver of hope, I’ll gladly accept it.
“Tell me about your son,” she suggests.
“Silas is one of my favorite topics to discuss,” I tell her honestly. As is usually the case, I can’t wipe the wide smile from my face as I tell her about my boy. “He’s funny and smart as a whip. I may be biased, but I’m quite sure he’s very advanced for his age.”
Charity is gazing over at me, giving me her full attention as I tell her about my child. Wanting to be completely honest, I add, “He’s also ornery, like his dad, but he’s so cute, he gets away with it. The other night, I went into the restroom for a moment and left him playing peacefully in his bedroom at my apartment. When I came out, he had colored himself from head to toe in blue marker.”
“What?!?” Charity bursts out, obviously unfamiliar with the antics of young children.
I nod to confirm before saying, “He looked like a Smurf.”
She begins giggling at the mental image. The sound of her laugh is just as addictive and wonderful as I remember.
After her laughter subsides, she asks me in a concerned tone, “Were you angry with him?”
“No,” I assure her quickly. “He beamed up at me with his adorable, lopsided grin, like he had just created the world’s greatest masterpiece. He’s too darn cute for me to get mad at him. I gave him two bubble baths. He came fairly clean, but I couldn’t get the blue out from under his fingernails before it was time for him to go to his mom’s. Jillian wasn’t at all thrilled with me when she saw it.”
Charity’s happy expression falls at my mention of Jillian. It would be impossible not to ever speak of my ex-wife, but I hate seeing that hurt look on Charity’s face. Hoping to gloss over that, I add, “Silas charms everyone he meets within moments. I can’t wait to introduce you to him.”
“I’m sure I would love your little boy, but I’m not sure meeting him would be a good idea,” Charity says in a sad voice.
I stop walking and turn to face her, “Charity, Silas is everything to me. If things go as well between us as I hope they will, you’re going to be a huge part of both of our lives.”
Even though I have infused my voice with sincerity, Charity is shaking her head. I reach out to swipe away the tear that escapes over her lower eyelid and trails down her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into that simple touch, obviously savoring it.
Snapping her eyes open, she glares at me as she says, “Why did you have to go and marry someone else? You took away our second chance at love when we found each other again in college. Now, you and Jillian have a child together. You’ll always be connected to her, despite the divorce.”
My lips fall open and I take an involuntary step backward at her accusatory tone. “I took away our second chance?!? What about your engagement to Brock Richardson? I only went out with Jillian at all because I saw the enormous rock he put on your finger.”
“So, you decided to get even with me by marrying Jillian?” Her eyes are firing venom in my direction.
“No,” I answer sadly. “I was trying to keep from falling apart over the devastation of losing you for good.”
“Brock and I were never really engaged. It only took a couple of dates for me to figure out that he is gay. His grandfather was in failing health, but the old man was beginning to suspect Brock’s true sexual orientation. When his old-fashioned grandfather threatened to cut him out of the will, Brock became desperate, so we hatched the fake engagement scheme to help him keep his inheritance.”
“So, you were his beard?” I mumble as I run my free hand along the back of my neck.
“Yes. It wasn’t fair of his grandfather to treat him that way just because of who he loves.”
Charity sounds defensive, so I agree, “Of course not. But why didn’t you just tell me your relationship with him was fake?”
“I tried!” she half-shouts.
At my look of utter disbelief she adds, “When I heard about your quickie engagement and planned wedding to Jillian, I came to the church to try to stop you from marrying her.”
“What?!?” My blood rushes down, leaving me feeling lightheaded from this shocking news. Bewildered, I ask, “You were at the church?”
Tears well in her eyelids and threaten to spill over as she nods her head. “I saw you looking so dashing and handsome in your tuxedo. I wanted nothing more than to rush in there and marry you myself, but you looked so… happy. You looked delighted to be marrying someone else, and I couldn’t risk ruining that for you.”
“Oh, Charity,” I whisper, reaching out to cup her cheek. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
