This Is Not How It Ends(56)

It started to drizzle when Ben walked me home. We could have easily turned around and made the short trip in his car, but we had begun to rely upon our walks, the stolen time when we could share our days and worries, the in-between where we belonged to no one else.

“Someone’s deep in thought.”

The rain felt fresh and peaceful, and I was savoring the exchange with Jimmy, but what I didn’t know was that Ben was standing at the door, witness to the entire conversation.

“You have an incredible way, Charlotte. I’ve seen a big change in Jimmy when he’s around you. He’s really grown attached to you. We both have.” And when he noticed I didn’t respond right away, he added, “I don’t mean any disrespect by that. Ours is an unusual friendship. But you should know you’ve been a great help to us.”

Whenever Ben connected our dots too close, I reminded him of someone else. “How are things with Claudia?”

“I like her,” he said. “She’s easygoing. Having her in Miami simplifies things. There’s no pressure. We see each other enough without added stress . . .”

“As long as she’s good with it,” I said, pointing out how all relationships, not only Philip’s and mine, faced compromise. Playfully, I teased, “But what do you want, Ben?”

He laughed, and the rain fell harder, drenching us in a slick wet. Soon we were running toward the house, skipping through puddles, splashing each other with a thin mist. By now we were both muddied, giggling like two kids prancing on an open playground.

We climbed the steps, gasping for air, our clothes and hair soaked through. My phone beeped, and it was a text from Philip. I have a surprise for you. FaceTime me.

“Philip has a surprise for me,” I shared with Ben.

I dialed his number, his face ignited the screen, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

“Philip.” I stopped laughing. “What happened to your hair?!”

His fingers stretched across the shiny bare scalp. “Don’t you like it?”

He was smiling, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was now bald, the blue of his eyes dazzling and flirty.

Ben grabbed the phone. “You don’t look half-bad for an old man. Maybe I’ll shave mine, too.”

“I think I like it,” I heard myself say. “Kind of sexy.”

“I lost a bet,” he informed us. “But my luck might rival yours. You two look atrocious. What on earth is going on down there?”

“Rainstorm,” Ben answered. “But your princess is safely home, and your lord is on his way to his.” We laughed together. Philip loved nothing more than seeing us happy, seeing the people he loved most enjoying life.

Noting the nasty weather in the background, Philip said, “Don’t be a wanker, Goose.” Ever so endearing, our Philip. “Sleep in the guest room.”

Ben didn’t miss a beat. “Uh, I have a minor at home, Philip. Jimmy, your godson.”

“Oh right,” he quipped. “Wait for the weather to subside before heading back, Goose. I have a rare bottle of Pappy Van Winkle. It’s best to drink on a cold, rainy night. Enjoy it while you wait. You have the rainy part covered.”

The bourbon cost a fortune, and we told him he was crazy. “The bottle will be waiting for you when you get back,” I said. “We’ll have it together.”

“Good night, Philip.” We said it in unison. Then we blew him kisses, which he pretended to catch in his hand.

“I love you, Charley. I love you, Goose.”





CHAPTER 25

September 2018

The tropical disturbance in the Lesser Antilles had grown into a major hurricane. The local news predicted Kelsie’s eye could hit the Florida Keys as a Category 2 storm. As with most predictions, the cone of uncertainty was wide. The impending threat was almost as scary as my feelings for someone else.

Ben. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t stop thinking of beginnings and endings and how the cards would stack.

When Philip called that night, I was visibly shaken.

“I’m scared, Philip. I’m scared we won’t make it if you keep traveling the way you do.”

“What’s gotten into you, Charley? I’m not one of those young lads who needs a business trip merely to get away from his woman. You trust me, don’t you?”

The question burned my cheeks.

“I’ve never given you any reason to worry. I’m committed to you, only you—you know that, don’t you?”

I pursed my eyes closed and told myself to focus. The problem was with me. Not him.

“I trust you implicitly.”

“Then what is it?”

“I need more of you.”

This silenced Philip, which was rare. “I can’t quit my job, Charley.”

“I know.” I gripped the phone tighter and fought the ache forming in my throat.

“What are you suggesting, Charley? Am I supposed to choose? You or work?”

“I’d never ask you to choose . . . I don’t know what I’m asking.” But I did. Deep down I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be all in.

“Hong Kong is next week. After that I’ll be home. For a while. I told you the first day I met you that I never break my promises. And I won’t.”