The Space Between Us(71)

Libman and Carmichael

Attorneys at Law

Carmichael? I dropped the pen and looked up at Mr. Libman. I’m sure I looked panicked, because he looked like a deer in headlights. My gaze drifted to Reeve and she looked nothing but guilty.

“Carmichael?” I asked her.

“Charlie, just sign the papers and we can go,” she said softly. That was all I needed to confirm what my gut had already told me was the truth. My eyes went wide and wild, desperately looking around, trying to ground myself in a room that now held a whole new meaning and feeling. I grabbed the pen and frantically scrawled my name along the line that begged for my signature.

I picked up my purse and nearly sprinted for the door to the conference room. ‘Stay calm. He’s not here. You won’t see him. Everything’s fine’. Those were the things I was repeating to myself to try and not freak out. I was tricked, tricked into coming here, tricked into thinking about someone I had tried not to think about for so long. I swung the door open and rushed towards the exit. I saw the receptionist stand as I ran past her, frantically trying to get to someplace with more air, someplace not closing up on me. I made it outside, anxious for a wide open space. What I found, instead, was Asher.

My eyes found every tall, dark haired man in a crowd for thirteen years. I searched him out, praying I’d find him but afraid of what would happen when I did. My mind hated him, with good reason, but I’d never fully convinced my heart. With every miniscule and tiny part of myself, I was afraid of what would happen if I ever saw him again. And now, here I was, looking right at him. I saw shock on his face. I saw remorse. I saw panic.

“Shit,” I heard Reeve mutter from behind me.

“Charlie,” he said quietly. I hated that he used my real name. I hated that I hated it. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He said it like it hurt him. Like being near me hurt him.

“We had to reschedule,” Reeve supplied. I turned to her, anger surging through my veins.

“You knew about this? About him?”

“We were just trying to make this as easy on you as possible, Charlie. We didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you’re already hurting,” she answered. Instantly I felt alone, but I was used to it by now. I closed my eyes, trying to control my feelings, trying not to feel, to block it all out. Even with my eyes closed I could still see Asher standing before me: his hair a little longer than I remember it being, his freckles still dark and distinct, his shoulders and arms filling out the three-piece suit I’d never seen him in. For just a fraction of a moment I was proud of him for becoming what he’d always dreamt of, what he’d always wanted. In spite of everything, he was able to achieve his ultimate goal. I guess I was glad one of us achieved something. I opened my eyes again, feigning resolve, masking my complete and utter brokenness, and turned, walking towards the parking lot.

The headlights of my rental car blinked as I pressed the unlock button on the key fob.

“Charlie, wait.” His voice cut through me. I hadn’t heard his voice in years and it still sliced right down into me, cutting me open. I didn’t stop walking. “Charlie, please, let’s talk. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please let me explain.” He sounded desperate, but not as desperate as I was to get away. Reeve ran up beside me and placed her hand on my arm.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” she said, a little out of breath.

“You need to find another way home.” I got into the car and drove away, fully aware of the fact that I was leaving everyone behind. Again.





Chapter Six


Asher


“Fuck!” I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow. I watched her car drive away and my mind raced with things I could possibly do to fix the situation. “Where is she staying?” I asked Reeve.

“I don’t know. She picked me up.”

I sprinted back to my car and peeled out of the driveway, hoping she’d been caught at a light and I could still find her. I wove in between cars hoping to catch up with her, hoping that I was observant enough and correct when I thought her car was black. I stopped at a red light and my open fist slammed into my steering wheel. “Ahhhh!” My frustration was no match for the wheel firmly attached to the dash and the palm of my hand stung from the impact. But that was ok. I welcomed that. I didn’t see any black cars around, but I did see one soccer mom staring at me from the lane over. That’s ok. Let her witness my breakdown. How could this have happened? Why didn’t Phil call to tell me the meeting had been rescheduled? I ran a hand through my hair and gave it a slight tug, wishing I had stayed home for the entire day instead of trying to dodge her. That was a lie. I wouldn’t take back seeing her again for anything. I just wished she hadn’t seen me. To see her, up close, to see the color of her eyes, the way her long hair fell around her shoulders; it was a sight I would likely take with me to the grave and cherish just as long. This had to be the longest red light in the history of traffic. The light finally changed and I continued to pass slow-moving cars to try and find the one that might hold her.

An hour later and I still hadn’t found her. I thought about stopping at every hotel and motel in town, but the only thing that stopped me was the knowledge she didn’t want to be found. She didn’t want to see me. She wanted to run from me, to hide from me. Didn’t I owe her at least that? To be left alone? The idea of letting her go again, of letting her live more of her life without telling her everything I’d kept bottled up inside, well, it would surely eat me alive. But if there was one thing I was convinced I didn’t deserve, it was her or anything she had to give me, including forgiveness. I pointed my car back towards the office and began to feel the gnawing of regret eating away at me.