Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

25.

Rhys

Charli and I travelled in silence, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. I felt uneasy, replaying the look on Steph’s face when she saw us standing by my car. She was too shrewd not to notice how I’d been staring at Charli, like I was prepared to tear up the entire city until I found out who or what made her cry.

Steph wasn’t going to be happy about that look, considering how badly our conversation had gone the other week.

My gut sank remembering how her eyes had lit up when I’d arrived at her place. She’d obviously thought I was there to work things out; when, in reality, I’d come to do the opposite.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have some of those beers you like,” she’d offered as she’d led me into her living room.

“No. Thanks, though,” I’d said, taking a seat on the armchair while she’d lowered onto the sofa across from me.

“You look good,” Steph had said, her expression softening as her gaze ran over me.

“You, too,” I’d replied because it was true. My ex was always very well put together, even though I knew she was still reeling from our breakup.

She’d run a hand through her sleek hair. “Thanks. It’s so good to see you. It’s felt empty here without you on the weekends. I miss you staying over.”

Ah, Christ. As soon as she’d said that, I’d known the conversation was going to be rough. I’d also known by her sugary tone that she’d thought she was going to get me in her bed before our “talk” was through. I’d been with her long enough to recognise the signs, her private intentions. Also, her mentioning those sleepovers had irritated me because it had always been me coming to stay with her. Whenever I’d suggested we go to my place, she’d make up some excuse, and I’d known why.

Steph had hated my house for numerous reasons and refused to stay there. She’d said it freaked her out how old it was and that it was probably haunted. The parking situation. She didn’t like Bruce, the elderly widower who lived next door with a Jack Russell who was just a little too yappy. Had said the dog gave her headaches and that she disliked what she’d termed the “old man smell” coming from Bruce’s place when she’d pass by and the windows were open. And okay, his house wasn’t exactly fresh, but the man was pushing ninety. He didn’t have it in him anymore to keep his house spic and span, and I disliked how Steph had no empathy at all for his situation.

She only cared how it inconvenienced her.

“Listen,” I’d said, sitting forward and resting my elbows on my thighs as I’d levelled her with a sincere expression. “My reason for coming over was just to check on how you’ve been doing and to make sure you’re okay.”

“So, you don’t miss me, then?” she asked, ignoring what I’d said and fixating on how I hadn’t responded with an “I miss you, too.”

I’d exhaled heavily, glancing down at the floor before lifting my gaze. “Steph, that’s not why I’m here. I didn’t come over to reconcile. Like I said, I want to make sure you’re okay and that you aren’t putting any energy into thinking we might get back together because that’s not—”

“Oh, fuck off, Rhys,” she’d burst, standing and crossing her arms, tears suddenly filling her eyes as she’d scoffed, “You think I’m sitting around pining for you? Whatever. I’m moving on. You stole two years of my life, and I’m not wasting a single second more on you.”

Well, that obviously wasn’t true since she’d talked about missing me only a minute ago, but I hadn’t called her on it, deciding instead to let her save face. “Good. That’s good, Steph. And I’m sorry if you think I wasted your time. That was never my intention.”

“Sure, it wasn’t. You strung me along knowing full well you were never going to marry me,” she’d shot back, and I’d flinched.

“No, that’s not true. I would never string anyone along. I was going to marry you. You know I was.”

“Right, and you changed your mind just because I didn’t want your precious cousin ruining the speeches at our wedding? I mean, seriously, Rhys, get a grip.”

I’d narrowed my gaze then, anger simmering, “Ruining?” I’d seethed. “Bloody hell, you’re so wrapped up in your own wants that you can’t even hear yourself, can you?”

“I can hear myself perfectly,” she’d snapped back.

“Well, hear this, we’re over. And no, I didn’t break up with you just because of Shay. That was one of many eye wateringly red flags.”

“Screw you, Rhys. As far as I’m concerned, this breakup is the best thing that ever happened to me. Now, maybe I can finally find someone who actually appreciates me. I hear Aidan Finnegan is single and opening a new restaurant in town soon. Maybe I’ll stop by.”

I’d released a tired breath. Had she thought she could make me jealous by going after my friend? “You do that. I’m leaving.”

“Yes, go, and don’t bother coming back pretending like you care. You never cared about me!” she’d shouted. I hadn’t countered the statement because I’d known deep down she was simply hurting and lashing out.

I dragged myself from the stressful memory just as I pulled into the driveway at Padraig and Jo’s house. Charli had been uncharacteristically silent on the drive, and I knew she was probably wondering about my reaction to Steph seeing us together. How to explain to her that my ex was spiteful and was now probably going to be a nightmare for her to deal with?

I was still trying to find the right words as we emerged from my car, and Charli asked, “Why do you always meet me out in the parking lot?”

I ran a hand over the stubble on my jaw as I turned to her, conflicted. It was only fair I tell Charli the truth, though. On instinct, I motioned for her to follow me to a quiet spot around the side of the house where we could talk. If we went inside, there would be too many people listening in. Charli leaned back against the wall while I shoved my hands in my pockets.

“It’s Steph,” I answered at last. “I didn’t want her to see us together.”

She visibly stiffened. “Why not?”

“Honestly? When we were together, Steph could be a little mean to female members of staff at the hotel if I spoke to them and she thought they liked me.”

“So, she was possessive?”

“Very. And she doesn’t have any cause to be now that we aren’t together anymore, but I know how important it is for you to fit in at work. You’re also going to encounter Steph a lot since you work with Maeve. I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about you.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

Charli’s gaze was trained on the ground. “She might be upset at the thought of you spending time with another woman so soon after the breakup. It’s understandable. I’d probably feel the same.”

“Right, but not just any woman,” I said. “You were my first, Charli. We have history.”

I watched as colour rose in her cheeks. Her throat bobbed, and she swallowed. “Does she know about us?”

“I don’t think so. Or at least, she doesn’t know you’re you .”

She seemed surprised by this. “Didn’t you tell her about your past relationships?”

“I did, but not in detail. She wouldn’t know enough to realise who you are.”

Charli nodded, falling silent then. What I really wanted to know was why she’d left the hotel with her eyes red and tearful like she’d been crying. Seeing her like that awoke something deep and primal in me. I wanted to destroy whoever made her so upset.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Pardon?”

“When you came out of the hotel earlier, you’d obviously been crying.”

“Oh, that,” she sighed, her hazel eyes settling somewhere around my chin. “It’s silly really. I got a letter back from the revenue department, and it had my maiden name on it. I just … it released something in me. It felt good to see it, you know? They were happy tears.”

“Ah,” I said, my tension easing as understanding dawned. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to make anyone pay for upsetting you.” Charli blinked, her long lashes fluttering, and I had to force myself not to reach out and caress her cheek. Her skin looked so soft, and my fingers itched to touch her. “So, it feels good to have your old name back?”

She exhaled a heavy breath, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “It feels amazing, like a weight’s been lifted.”

“Was it that bad being married to him?” I knew it was a question I shouldn’t ask, but a part of me needed to know about her ex-husband. Some of the small details she’d revealed about him concerned me. They didn’t sit well.

Charli’s gaze flickered up, meeting mine for a second before returning to chin level. “Not right away. The first two years were good. I was happy. Mostly. And then …”

“And then?”

“I guess the first warning sign was when he convinced me my relationship with my mom was toxic, that the way she’d lied to me as a child made her some sort of narcissist and that she was the reason why I was on medication for depression.”

My jaw tightened as I listened to her. I’d met Charli’s mother when she came to visit at the end of her stay that summer. The woman seemed anxious and a little uptight, but she was no narcissist. “Why were you on medication?”

Charli blew out a small breath, the air of it gently hitting my face, and I leaned closer to her on instinct. “I found my first couple of months at college challenging. It was all such a big change, and with everything I’d just discovered about my parents and my family, I went through a bit of a crisis.” My hands fisted where they hung at my sides because this was the same period when I’d been in hell over Mam getting sick. Charli had been going through her own struggle, and I couldn’t help wondering if I’d just gotten my shit together and kept in touch, maybe even gone to see her, she might not have felt so lost.

“I was very down, so Mom found a therapist who I started seeing. Talking to her really helped, and the medication kept me on an even keel. Then I met Jesse, he proposed, and I felt like my life was on track, but, well, it didn’t turn out how I thought.” She laughed joylessly, her eyes faraway.

“Did he convince you to stop talking to Nuala, too?”

Charli nodded sadly. “Not just Nuala, it was my entire support network. My friends from school, Lydia and Gwyn. Jesse had a way of getting into my head. He figured out what made me tick and used it against me. It took years for me to see his manipulation for what it really was, and by that point, I’d lost so much time with the people who were truly important to me.”

The more she revealed, the more my insides hardened to stone. I knew what an abusive relationship looked like growing up in a house with my parents, but that was mostly physical violence. Yes, there was emotional manipulation going on, too, and my dad was good at getting Mam to keep his behaviour behind closed doors a secret, but he’d never tried to cut her off from her family. What Charli was describing was different, and I was filled with a kind of rage I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Is that what you fought over the day you finally left him?”

A shadow flickered behind her eyes like she was pushing down a bad memory, then she said, “Partly, yes.”

I nodded to myself, battling with the anger that was stewing and toxifying within me. I wanted to round up a few of my old legion friends, jump on a plane, find her ex-husband, and teach him a real lesson. Burying the urge, I sent her a look of respect.

“I’m proud of you for leaving.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure if you should be. My leaving came more than a decade too late.”

“Don’t do that,” I said, my voice rough.

Abusive relationships took a long time to get out of, I knew that from personal experience with Mam, how long it took to convince her to finally leave my father for good. A lot of the time it was a psychological cage rather than a physical one. What Charli just revealed to me made everything about how she’d changed make so much sense. Her anxious disposition, the panic attacks, and fretfulness.

I stood there, taking her in and battling between vicious fury and aching pride that she’d found the courage to leave and get a divorce. I couldn’t imagine the mental battle she’d gone through just to get to where she was. The relief that she was close enough I could protect her was overwhelming. Wherever her path led, I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t ever abandon her like before.

I’d make sure she was safe.

A few minutes went by, but I didn’t make any move to leave. The conversation didn’t feel over yet, and I sensed Charli had more she wanted to say.

After a few quiet moments, she spoke, “I’m not sure I would’ve survived without my mom. She never stopped calling, emailing, sending letters, reminding me she was there ready to take me in whenever I needed her. She’d even drive five, six hours to come stand outside my work just so she could lay eyes on me. When I think back to that time, how I let Jesse convince me she was a bad person, I have this overwhelming physical response. I feel like being sick, like someone’s shoved a hot poker into my gut. My betrayal of her, it was unforgiveable. But her love was boundless, it knew no end, and then, when I did finally leave him, she drove those six hours again to come get me.”

A sheen of emotion filled her eyes. Instinctively, I reached out, placing my hand softly on hers. Self-recrimination threatened to drag me under. A parent’s love was unique, but why couldn’t I have been more like her mam? Why didn’t I push through my own bullshit and realise Charli wasn’t as happy, well-adjusted, and confident when she’d set off for college as I’d let myself believe?

“I’m sorry,” I said gruffly, a rough edge to the words.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she whispered back.

Headlights lit up the driveway, announcing Derek’s arrival with his kids in the back of his car. I wanted to explain to Charli that yes, I did have something to be sorry for, but that was a long, difficult conversation, and she was already upset. It wasn’t the moment to add to it.

Derek cast us a curious glance as he emerged from his car. He must’ve sensed we were having a serious moment because he left us to it. Charli sniffled and stepped away from the wall. “We should go in.”

“If you need a few more minutes to just be out here, that’s fine.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I just …” Her eyes came to mine, all glassy and endlessly golden brown with flecks of green. “Thank you for letting me talk. Sometimes I get so scared to tell people about Jesse, fearing they’ll judge me, but you didn’t, and I’m grateful for that.”

Fuck . I hated that she felt that way, but I completely related to the instinct. It felt like another lifetime, but I remembered hiding things, feeling too insecure to tell my closest friends what my father had done to Mam and me.

I motioned for her to go first, and she walked toward the front door. When we entered the house, Charli excused herself, and I went into the kitchen, where most of the Balfes had gathered, minus Padraig.

“Was that Charli I saw with you outside?” Derek asked, lifting a beer to his mouth.

“I’ve been giving her a lift home on Fridays,” I said, not explaining what we’d been standing outside talking about. “Seemed silly not to since we’re both heading the same direction.”

I didn’t fail to notice the look he and Nuala shared, and I began to wonder if they’d been talking about me. About us . It felt like that summer all over again, being drawn to Charli more and more until we were spending almost every day together.

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Jo said. “I’m sure Charli appreciates it.”

“Did you know her ex-husband is withholding a collection of ornaments she inherited from her grandmother?” I asked, still feeling irritated about it. Last week, Charli pleaded with me to let it lie, but I was finding that difficult. She deserved to have what belonged to her returned.

“Yes, she mentioned it,” Nuala replied sadly. “God, that Jesse is such a fucking arsehole.”

“Language, Nuala,” Jo scolded.

“I’m thirty-three years old, Mam. I can swear.” A faint grin shaped her lips.

“Well, I suppose that man deserves it,” her mother allowed just as Padraig arrived home. He kissed Jo on the cheek, and they began quietly chatting about their day.

Derek’s parents’ relationship truly was something to envy. They had such an easy, caring way with one another, and a part of me yearned for the same dynamic. It had rarely been that way with Steph and me. Don’t get me wrong, there was a six-month period where I’d thought the sun shone out of her backside, but that had been short-lived. After I’d proposed, things had slowly started to change.

It had felt like no matter what I did, she’d been unsatisfied. My house hadn’t been good enough, my job hadn’t paid enough, we hadn’t taken as many holidays as her friends did during the year. And I’d bent over backwards to please her because I’d felt like I was punching above my weight, and a woman as beautiful and smart as Steph could have any man she wanted. The way she’d felt about Shay being my best man at the wedding was abhorrent to me, but there had been many warnings leading up to that until at long last I changed my mind about marrying her.

“People are allowed to change their minds,” Nuala said, and for a second, I feared she’d read my thoughts. She was frowning down at the glass of wine in her hand.

“You said you’d come,” Tristan argued. “Aidan’s expecting you.”

“But I’ve made other plans with Martin.”

“So, bring him to the opening. I’m sure Aidan won’t mind,” Tristan countered just as Charli entered the kitchen, and like always, she sucked up all my focus. She had on the same trousers and blouse she’d worn to work, but she’d let her hair down. It hung wavy and lustrous around her shoulders. Her feet were encased in a pair of pale grey slippers, and I stared at the smooth, flawless skin of her ankles for a second before forcing my gaze away.

“We’ve only been on three dates,” Nuala argued. “It’s far too early for him to meet my entire family.”

“We promise not to embarrass you, honey,” Jo said before glancing at Charli. “Oh, and that reminds me, are you still coming, darling?”

“Coming to what?” she asked, and I noticed she held a wine glass and was searching for the bottle Nuala had opened. On instinct, I took the glass from her, our fingers brushing briefly before I set it down and poured her a drink.

She quietly thanked me with a small smile as Jo explained, “The opening for Aidan’s new restaurant is tomorrow night. I mentioned it a few weeks ago, remember?”

“Oh, tomorrow night?” Charli asked, taking a sip of wine. “I’m not sure I have anything to wear.”

“You must have a dress,” Jo encouraged. “And if not, you can borrow something from Nuala.”

“Charli’s knockers aren’t going to fit into any of my dresses,” Nuala chuckled, and Charli grinned. My gaze inadvertently lowered to said knockers before I forced myself to look away. God, they were perfect, though.

“She’s right, but don’t worry. I’ll find something. It sounds like fun, and I haven’t been for a night out since I got here. I need to branch out of my comfort zone.”

Suddenly, the idea of Charli being around Aidan had me stiffening in place. He’d fancied her when we were teenagers. I’d known it by the hungry way he’d sometimes stared at her, mostly because it was similar to how I would stare at her. What was I saying? I still fucking stared at her that way and had just been doing so mere seconds ago. Thankfully, Charli was oblivious.

“Okay, can somebody set the table?” Jo asked. “The food’s just about ready.”

“On it, dear,” Padraig said, kissing her cheek before he went to gather the place settings. Nuala, Tristan, and Derek followed their father into the dining room while Jo flittered about the kitchen tending to the food. Pablo and Gigi were in the living room watching TV.

Charli sidled up to me, her voice low when she asked, “Are you going to the opening, too?”

My eyes traced the curve of her cheek and her thick, pretty eyelashes. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she burst, and I arched an eyebrow at her response, my lips curving in faint amusement.

“You seem relieved,” I stated, curious.

“I am. I … this is very embarrassing, but I haven’t been to a social event in, like, over three years. I’m ashamed to say I turned into a bit of a hermit during those final few years of my marriage. The idea of going out tomorrow night feels daunting,” she confessed, and I pressed my lips together in irritation. I was sure her controlling dickhead of a husband had loved that, not only cutting her off from her family and friends but having her tucked away at home all the time, too. Never talking to anyone except for him. It was textbook behaviour for controlling abusers.

“Anyway,” she went on, her hand coming to rest on my arm as she gently squeezed, her touch momentarily distracting me from my anger. “I hope you don’t mind, but I may need to latch onto you as a security blanket. I always feel better when you’re around, and Nuala won’t be there, so—”

“Of course. I’d be honoured to be your security blanket, Charli.” My voice was coarse as I met her gaze and saw the relief mixed with something else.

Something that got my blood pumping just that little bit faster.

I hated the idea of her being nervous to attend a restaurant opening. And at the same time, I was proud as fuck that I was the person she wanted to latch onto, the one who made her feel more comfortable. And sure, she’d only picked me because Nuala wasn’t going to be there, but still.

The sad truth was that when it came to Charli Moretti, I’d crawl on my knees to be her second, third, fourth choice. When it came to her, I’d take whatever I could get because she was the first girl to ever make my pulse race, the first girl to truly take the time to notice and understand me, and if being around her these last few weeks taught me anything, it was that no matter how much older I got, her effect on me was never going to change.