Page 17 of Romanced By the Rat
“No, it was never that.”
“Then what?”
“It was you. The first time I saw you, I could tell you were someone special. Then, you kept coming in, and I studied you, learning more about you than you wanted anyone to know. I could never have you, and I accepted that, but when I saw Jeremy and you looked at him the way I wished you looked at me, I decided that if I couldn’t have you, I’d help him, because above everything, you deserved to be happy.”
She’s silent, stunned speechless, and for the first time since she walked through the front door of Ratcliff’s, I can’t read her. Her lips part. “So the letter, all of it was you, not Jeremy?”
“The letters were me, and yes, I helped him with his words and… actions, but he truly cares about you, and he’s a good guy. At first, this was just about you, but it slowly became about you both.” My skin heats. My words are too close to a confession.
Something washes over Charlotte’s expression—understanding. She senses my discomfort, carrying on the conversation. “So now what?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you want this to carry on?”
I chuckle. “It’s not about me; it never should have been. I thought I was helping to bring the two of you together, but I was wrong. I overstepped. I intruded on your privacy. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, but Jeremy, I think you should give him another chance.”
She nods. The weight in my heart heavies. Of course, I want her to say no, that this could work somehow, but that’s a fantasy. I was never truly part of this, and I will never be anything more. I’m a rat—vermin. I’ll stay hidden in the shadows until I die a lowly death. It’s time I come to terms with that.
“I should go.”
She nods, her eyes watery.
I don’t look back as I crawl across the floor and exit through the small crack of her ajar front door.
Chapter twelve
Charlotte
It hasn’t even been five minutes since Ramsay left when someone’s knocking on my door. For a moment, I think he could be back, but I remember he’s a rat. There’s no way he could knock on my door and actually make a sound.
When I pull it open and see Jeremy, I can’t help the warm feeling filling my stomach. I should be furious at him, which I am, but I also can’t help associating him with pleasure. I don’t greet him, just cross my arms over my chest, glaring at him. I should slam the door in his face, but after Ramsay’s apology, I can’t help that I’m softened toward the situation.
A normal person, in a normal town, would probably be sent to a mental hospital after finding out her lover had a talking rat controlling him and learning that said rat was really a man transformed into a rat, but this is Ghostlight Falls. This kind of shit is normal. I’ve only lived here a few weeks and I already know that. It doesn’t make any of this okay, though.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry.” He’s empty-handed. Although he looks his normal devastatingly handsome self, his curly locks are disheveled and his clothes are wrinkled. It’s clear to me now thedifference between Ramsay’s guidance and his absence. “Can I come in?” His expression is defeated.
I wait, making him sweat, but of course I open the door, motioning for him to enter. “Wow, it looks great in here,” he says.
“Wasn’t me.”
He freezes, studying me. “Ramsay?” A part of me wondered if they were working together for this apology. Jeremy isn’t wearing a hat, so unless they’ve come up with a different hiding spot, he’s solo. But still, this could have been rehearsed. From the genuine quizzical look on his face, I can tell that’s not the case.
“Yep.”
“Is he here?”
I plop onto the couch, my arms still over my chest. “You just missed him. I’m curious to see how you behave without your leader.”
He rushes to me, sits on the couch, and grabs my hand. “Charlotte, believe me, if I thought I could gain your affection on my own, I’d do it. It seemed like the only way.”
I scoff. “So you thought the only option was letting a rat guide you instead of, I don’t know, being yourself?”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, Jeremy, I don’t. Please explain to me why you made this choice.”
He takes a breath, turning away from me as if to gather his thoughts. “I told you I’ve never been good with my words. It’s like my brain and mouth are on two different settings. I get so nervous that I end up making the shittiest choice. I met you in a place where I was at my worst. I’m a horrible server, and there you were, looking like heaven personified, and I made an idiot of myself in front of you. When Ramsay showed up, I was freaked out, but then he gave me some tips, and it worked. I knew itwouldn’t be enough, though. I’d fuck up and you’d want nothing to do with me.”
