Page 44 of Shadowing Charlotte
Chapter forty-four
Alexander
H er question wrenched the air from my lungs and my mouth opened as I stared down at her.
Charlie's entire face was red from crying, the sight rendering me speechless, making my heart crack in my chest. Had I told her that I loved her?
I couldn't even remember. I'd been so upset over what had happened at the hospital that I hadn't been thinking clearly until we'd reached the driveway and I'd finally realized Charlie was upset.
"Oh, sweetheart… How could I not?" I sighed, lifting her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes.
"You've had me wrapped around your finger from the moment I first set eyes on you.
" Her lips wobbled, the corners lifting into a smile as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
"For so long, I felt like I was lost in my own life, a ship without anchor, drifting on endless seas… "
"So, I'm your anchor? A ball and chain?" she asked, her voice still thick and raspy from crying.
"No, Charlotte. You're my lighthouse, guiding me safely back to shore," I whispered, letting the words sink in before I closed the distance between our mouths and kissed her.
"I don't just love you, Charlotte. I'm in love with you.
Head over fucking heels," I confessed against her lips, relishing her joyful little sigh that followed my declaration.
Words didn't even do justice to the way I felt about Charlotte. She was an unpredictable sickness that had crept beneath my skin, infecting my blood and worming deeper still, into the very marrow of my bones. A sickness I never wanted to be cured of.
Her tears smeared between our cheeks as our kiss deepened, my tongue dancing across her bottom lip in slow strokes.
"I love you, too," she whispered against my mouth, a broken sniffle sucked in as she tried to banish her tears.
"Does this mean you're going to marry me?
" Charlie asked with a playful pout, the sadness in her eyes slowly dissipating. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Someday, princess," I answered, knowing in the depths of my soul that the answer was unequivocally yes. Charlotte and I belonged together, both of us fucked up in different ways, two sides of the same tarnished coin. Finally, she cracked a smile, her fingers toying with the neckline of my shirt.
"I really am sorry, you know,"
"I know, baby. It's alright." I couldn't stay mad at her.
Her almost-revelation had been a slip of the tongue.
One thing I was certain of was that Charlotte never did anything with the intention of hurting someone.
She may have had fucked up tendencies and made stupid decisions, but she had the purest heart of anyone I'd ever met.
Maybe that's why she'd never been afraid of me. Maybe we were simply meant to be.
We cuddled on the couch, my hands trailing over the soft skin of her back, until she told me she was hungry. Together, we made dinner and shared a few cups of wine. By the time we climbed into the shower together, the discord of the afternoon was long forgotten.
When we crawled, naked, into her bed, I didn't fuck Charlotte, I made love to her, every touch languid and full of intent. Our bodies were still sweaty and entwined when we fell asleep.