I’ve been gone thirty days. Not a lot of time, but it felt like an eternity. Now, I finally get to go home and face the real world again. I’m fucking nervous as hell. Anxiety has taken over because I know I have to look everyone I love in the eye and face what I’ve done. I know my family will forgive me; Sniper, too. But it’s her I’m most worried about. Can she really forgive me for the way I’ve behaved? I’ve been a colossal dick, a sentiment confirmed by Sniper more times than I care to count. I’ve spent the last month digging up the bones of my past and facing them, but behind all of the shit, I had to figure out the millions of things I had to learn to forgive myself for. The one thing I know for sure is I need her. Hell, I love her. I’ve just been too much of a chickenshit to tell her. I crave Charlotte like if she were my next breath. She’s been there in spirit the entire time, telling me, I don’t want to lose you, too. Rehab was a bitch to get through. The shakes and night sweats I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But I’d made a promise to my brother, and damn it, I intend to keep it. He deserves that much from me. I’m lucky I made it out of my self-deprecating hell. It’s a damn shame my anger has kept me away from her for this long—from accepting her for who she is. But through it all, I never stopped wanting her.
The last night I saw her, after leaving the Mercers,’ I’d been impressed. The way she restored their sense of calm was nothing short of a miracle. As if their pain was healed instantaneously. Later that night, when she’d climbed in my lap and kissed me, I knew there was no way I could ever let her go. But in that moment, there was no way I could keep her either. I was a fucking mess; barely clean and just coming out of a quasi-relationship with a woman I had no fucking business seeing. Charlotte deserves better than that, but for some reason, she loves me. She wants to be with me, or at least she did. And to give her the best, my very best anyway, I had to go and fix me before I started anything with her.
My father has just picked me up and is driving me home from rehab, making mindless small talk along the way, but my mind is stuck on her. How is she? Where is she?
“How’s Charlotte?” I interrupt him; unable to hold it in any longer. My father smiles, but never takes his eyes off the road.
“She’s well, I believe. Why do you ask?” And the way he’s smirking I know he knows why I’m asking.
“You know why, Dad,” I mumble.
Picking up his stainless steel travel mug, he takes a long sip before saying, “She’s a great girl, George. I hope you can convince her to stay.”
My fingers instantly intertwine, full of tension as I squeeze them until the tips turn white. “Is she talking about leaving?” I ask tentatively, my throat growing tight at the thought. I couldn’t blame her if she is. It’s not like I’ve given her much of a reason to stay. And fuck me if I don’t want her to.
“Her mother and father were just down here for a week or so. Word was they begged her to go, but she refused.” I let out an audible breath, full of relief. She stayed. Maybe, just maybe, I have a chance. My father continues talking, and I have to fight to pay attention. “The trial for Casey Purcell’s killer is in a week or two. She said she’d at least stay until after the trial.”
“Where is she now?” My nerves are on edge, and I shake my right leg, the anticipation burning a hole inside me.
He cuts me a sideways glance and smirks, his eyes twinkling with mirth at my expense. “She’s at our house, waiting to welcome you home.”
Rubbing my chin as I grin briefly, I quickly wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I take a deep breath and prepare myself.
Don’t fuck this up, George.
“Cameron, if you eat one more of those ham biscuits I will strangle you!” Beverly yells as Cameron flees the dining room, where a meal fit for kings is spread out on the McDermotts’ large table.
Sniper, Anna, and I chuckle as Cameron shoves another biscuit in his mouth as he rushes by us.
“I’ll be back for the cookies,” he mumbles around the food in his mouth, although it’s barely audible.
“They are bloody good,” Sniper says. “Beverly used to send Ike care packages with them. Greedy bastard would only give me one or two.”
“Are you nervous?” Anna whispers as she loops her arm with mine. Since the night Roger and George fought, Sniper has kept her abreast of my gift and all the events that transpired between Ike, George, and I. She accepted it rather easily, and we’ve become very close since.
“Extremely,” I answer honestly as she leads me onto the front porch. I’ve waited for George for the past month knowing my feelings for him have not changed. I’m just not sure how he’ll react to me being here. What if he changed his mind about us while in rehab? Regardless of the butterflies in my stomach, I’m so proud of him for going to rehab, for wanting to get better. And if I’m being honest, it gave me a chance to get myself together, too. I was devastated after Ike left, and I needed some time to cope. My heart still hurts every day for Ike, but slowly, it’s getting better. My hope is George and I can move on from here. But deep inside there’s a fear that maybe he won’t feel the same. Maybe he won’t want me anymore.
“Well you look fabulous,” she says, as she bumps my shoulder with hers; bringing me out of my thoughts. Of course I do; Anna dressed me. I’m wearing a burgundy dress with three-quarter sleeves and tights with boots. Anna put my hair in a high ponytail and I’m wearing a little more makeup than I usually do. But even the cutest outfit and makeup can’t cover the dread I’m feeling inside.