This Is Not How It Ends(60)

“We can’t. What we’re doing . . . What we’re feeling . . . We’re all Philip has. He trusts us. You’re his best friend!”

His shoulders slumped from the force of those truths.

“This is an unforgivable betrayal.”

His hands buried themselves deep in his pockets. When he spoke, his voice was solemn and broken. “I know.”

But then he went on. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to feel something again? How I convinced myself I’d be alone the rest of my life? That my heart was buried in the ground . . . with her . . .”

Tears burned in the back of my eyes.

“. . . you, Charlotte, you made me feel again.” His voice cracked. “After Sari, I didn’t think it was possible. Love doesn’t give us many chances. It’s fate and we have to take it while we can. Let’s go to Philip. Let’s tell him what we already know.”

How easy it would have been to collapse in his arms and say yes. To give in to the temptation and feelings. To let him wrap around me until I couldn’t breathe. To hold me until I felt whole again. But the idea was fleeting, a momentary lapse. Philip would return, and our feelings would hurt him, hurt all of us.

Whether it would be the biggest mistake of my life or not, I told him no. “I can’t.”

Inside I was whispering, I love you, too, Ben. I love you, too.



I walked toward the bedroom, and he didn’t try to stop me. Sunny followed, putting a barrier between us. When I reached the door, storms raging near and far, I pretended he didn’t just profess his love to me, and I asked about the imminent storm instead.

He was slow to respond. “The wind and rains will pick up. We’ll lose power. Don’t go outside. The weather may seem calm, but it could be the eye, the most lethal part of the storm. It’ll trick you into thinking you’re safe.”

We were at my door, and he gave me the Ben face, the one that felt like hands caressing my body. “If you need me,” he said. “I’m just down the hall. And there’s a flashlight beside your bed.”

“Thanks for everything,” I said. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. And for listening. And for understanding that I can’t talk about love right now . . . It hurts too much.”

His eyes lingered longer than they should. “I’d do anything for you, Charlotte.”



Hours later, all hell broke loose. Trees banged against the exterior, their sounds like jackhammers pounding at the ceiling. The rain smacked against the rooftop, and the whistling sounds of the wind creeping off the shore woke me from a restless sleep.

The room was black, and I knew at once we’d lost power. Minutes passed before my eyes adjusted and I could see Sunny pacing back and forth on the floor. I patted the bed for him to come up. He obeyed, nuzzling into me. Ben was in the room next to mine, and I wondered if he was awake, tossing and turning, sorry for his confession. The house shook, and I pulled the covers tighter. My hands trembled, the howling a frightening spray of noise. Worst-case scenarios spiraled through my mind.

Sunny cried and nudged me with his wet nose. I knew what it meant. Shit.

Literally.

I’d die if my dog had an accident on Ben’s pristine floors. I moved close to his face and told him he had to hold it in. But that face. Those puppy-dog eyes that were no longer puppy, but full-grown dog. “Oh Sunny, you can’t do this to me, buddy. You can’t.”

My hands stroked his fur lovingly, and I listened to his panting sounds. He jumped from the bed, sniffing loudly, circling a spot on the floor. Shit. I knew I should let him do his business, and Ben would never know. I’d clean it up, flush it down the toilet, but Sunny’s eyes told me he couldn’t hold it. He knew he got in trouble from Philip when he had accidents. He’d rather hold it in and have his head pop off than endure Philip’s reprimand.

The winds quieted down, and the rain slowed to a mild drizzle. Sunny was pleading with me, and I decided I could get him outside and back if I timed it correctly. After grabbing a sweatshirt and the flashlight, I found Sunny’s leash, and we tiptoed through the dark house. I was counting the minutes between feeder bands, so I knew how much time we’d have until the next squall. The last one was about three minutes.

“Let’s make this fast,” I told Sunny as we headed out the front door. I carried an umbrella and decided to forgo the leash. It’d be quicker, I believed, if he found a spot on his own and returned. Islamorada was quiet. The trees didn’t breathe. The streetlamps were dark, and the only light was the moon, which faded in and out beneath a range of fast-moving clouds.

My instincts were on heightened alert. Every sound, every branch that cracked in the wind. “Sunny,” I called out. “Sunny, let’s go.”

I scanned the surroundings for a change in the air.

“Sunny, here boy.”

Nothing.

Slowly, I took a step down the stairs. “Sunny. Here. Now.”

Nothing.

I pulled the sweatshirt tighter and called out Sunny’s name. My heart thundered in my throat while fear gripped me in its fist. “C’mon, Sunny.”

I knew the minute I stepped on the drive that we’d made a mistake. The winds were shifting, and there was a whipping noise swirling eerily close. Sunny was pacing beneath a tree, baying at something in the branches. “C’mon boy, we’ve gotta get back inside.” I wasn’t sure he’d done his business, but I knew we had to return. I grabbed his collar and tugged. He fought me and cocked his head as though he heard something that I couldn’t.