Page 32 of Made for Wilde

"I like the quiet," I finally say. "After I retired, after..." After Vanessa. After the life I thought I was building crumbled to dust. "After everything fell apart, I needed space."

"It must get lonely sometimes."

I look at her then. Her face is open, curious. No judgment, just genuine interest. That's the thing about Charlotte, she's always been real. Never playing games, never hiding behind pretense.

"I prefer it." The words come out harsher than intended. I soften them with a half-smile. "Most people talk too much anyway."

She laughs, the sound bright against the drumming of rain on the roof.

"So I should shut up then?"

"Not you." I chuckle. "You can talk all you want."

Charlotte's smile turns softer, more thoughtful.

"Have you always lived alone?"

The question catches me off guard. My hand stills on the wooden spoon I'm using to stir the sauce.

"Not always," I say carefully. "I lived with a woman once. A few years back."

I can feel her attention sharpen, though she doesn't push. That's another thing about Charlotte, she knows when to wait.

I keep my eyes on the pan, watching the sauce bubble.

"What happened?" she asks quietly.

The words stick in my throat for a moment. I haven't talked about this with anyone except Dana and Jason. And even then, only once. But something about the storm, about the intimacy of this moment, loosens my tongue.

"She got pregnant." I swallow hard. "I was over the moon. Started planning everything, bought all the baby gear. The whole nine yards."

I pause, the old anger and hurt threatening to surface. I push it down, keep my voice level.

"But then five months in, I found out the baby wasn't mine."

The silence that follows is heavy. I risk a glance at Charlotte and find her watching me with wide eyes, her hand pressed to her chest.

"Koda," she breathes. "I'm so sorry. That's... ugh, I can't even imagine."

The sympathy in her voice is genuine, unguarded. No pity, just honest compassion. It makes my chest ache in a different way.

"It's fine," I say, forcing a casual shrug. "It’s ancient history now. She moved out, moved on. Married the guy, actually."

"That doesn't make it fine," Charlotte says softly. "That kind of betrayal... it's not something you just get over."

I turn back to the stove, adjusting the heat under the pasta water even though it doesn't need adjusting.

"You learn to live with it. People make choices. Sometimes those choices hurt like hell, but you survive them."

Another silence, but this one feels different. Understanding, maybe.

"Is that why you built this place so far from town?" Charlotte asks. "To survive it?"

I nod slowly.

"Something like that. Needed to start over somewhere no one knew the story. Somewhere I could just... be."

"Well," she says, and I hear the smile in her voice before I turn to see it, "I think you picked a pretty good spot."