Page 35 of Shadowing Charlotte

Chapter thirty-five

Charlotte

T he rest of our meal was pleasant enough.

I didn't particularly care for Jessica's flippant personality, but I'd enjoyed conversing with Nadine.

By the end of our afternoon, I understood what Lex was trying to do.

He wanted me to meet Jessica to prove that there wasn't some kind of relationship going on between them.

"You could have warned me," I told him in the car after Jessica had squeezed me goodbye. "It would have been easier to come up with things to talk about if I had been prepared."

"I only decided on the way there." Lex flicked on the blinker at the light, the repetitive sound filling the silence of the car. "You never told me you want to be a writer," he murmured as he drove.

"I don't anymore," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn't want to talk about that. Not with Jessica, not with him, not with anyone.

"Why not?"

"I don't write anymore. Not since my mother died…" I answered softly, my lip quivering as I tried not to think about her.

"Oh…" The car went silent once more and I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, blinking back the tears that stung my eyes. "Oh, Charlie, baby, don't cry," he murmured, his hand giving my knee a reassuring squeeze. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I miss it, sometimes… having the inspiration," I admitted, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. I looked down, unable to meet his gaze, afraid of the look of pity I might find there. "I’ve tried to write, but nothing comes out. It’s like the part of me that lo ved creating is gone.

" My shoulders slumped as I sat back, the weight of the admission leaving me feeling both vulnerable and strangely relieved, as if a door I had kept locked inside me had finally been broken open.

"I'm sorry, my love," Lex whispered, his fingers dancing reassuring lines up and down my thigh. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't have wanted that." I entwined my fingers between his, any chance of response sticking in the base of my throat.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore," I managed to croak out.

"That's fine," he replied solemnly. The atmosphere in the car remained silent and uncomfortable all the way home…