Page 24 of Threads That Bind Us
“Hey, it’s not his fault—” I start, but Charlie cuts meoff.
“No, it’s okay, you’re allowed to be upset.” He unrolls his silverware from the napkin, and it feels like he’s trying to find something to do with his hands. “I’m sorry we haven’t met earlier. Gwen made it clear that she wouldn’t bring anyone into your life that wasn’t serious about her, and I didn’t do a good enough job of convincing her I was.” His eyes flash to me with a quick smile before turning back to Ana. “That’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what's more shocking, the way the lies slip from him so easily, or the sincerity with which he says them. I guess I can’t really be upset—I’m deceiving Ana just as much as he is. But it’s still hard to school my features.
Ana takes a beat, staring at Charlie with a contemplative frown.
“So you didn’t decide to clue me in so you can help the charity case?”
“Is that what you thought?” I grab Ana’s hand. I hate how close to reality she’s hitting without knowing it. Even more, I hate that she sees herself like that. Despite my grip on her, she keeps her eyes locked on Charlie. It feels like she’s assessing him, reading for a weakness or a lie.
“No, I guarantee you that’s not what’s happening. I care about your sister, and I want to be a part of your lives.”
My stomach is churning. I feel like I’m sinking, like I’m failing her.
But like a light switch, the atmosphere changes as Ana pulls her hand from mine, picks up her menu, and starts browsing the brunch options.
“All right, I believe you,” she says, and Charlie’s fighting a grin as he mirrors her.
I’m staring open-mouthed at both of them.
“Ana, I promise I didn’t—” I start, but again I’m interrupted, this time by her.
“I didn’t think it was you, don’t worry. Just wanted to make sure GQ over here wasn’t looking to get on your good side by pretending to care about the cancer kid.”
“Why would you even think that?” I ask, picking up my sticky plastic menu without looking at it.
“Because men are gross,” Charlie answers, and Ana looks over the top of her menu with her brows raised. “I know saying it doesn’t win me points.”
He can’t see, but behind the menu, a small smile takes over her face before she neutralizes it.
“Correct.”
We spend the rest of lunch talking and, to my genuine surprise, laughing. Ana badgers Charlie with questions about his work, his family, his tattoos. I’m learning just as much as she is about him, which is both comforting and disorienting.
He hates orange juice. As a kid, he was terrified of snakes, but got the tattoo on his right hand when he overcame the fear. He’s the Chief Operations Officer at his family’s foundation, which helps victims of human trafficking resettle, either back in their homes or here in safe havens and shelters. A lawyer by training, he went to the University of Chicago for law school.
I have no idea how much of this is true, and seeing how easily he lied about our relationship, I try not to put too much stock into his words. But for every question he answers, he asks one of Ana back, tossing me a few along the way.
Everything about this is so normal, and while part of me is relieved, I’m also racked with guilt. It’s all a facade, and every moment from here on out will be too. I didn’t even stop to consider the fact that it’s not just me that has to have a relationship with Charlie. Ana’s going to build trust with someone based on a lie.My lie.
Ana excuses herself to the bathroom, and I double checkthat she’s feeling okay before she heads toward the other side of the cafe. When she’s out of earshot, Charlie grabs my hand.
“You doing okay?” he asks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my clammy skin.
I can tell he’s trying not to look worried, his smile a little too fake for comfort.
“Yeah, just a little hard to lie to her, you know?” I take a deep breath through my nose.
“You mean about how long we’ve been together? I thought we agreed on that?” His question seems genuine enough, and I shrug, downing half my glass of water with my free hand.
“And all the stuff about your personal life. I think it’s just hard for me to imagine her getting to know someone and it not be one hundred percent real, you know?” I’m staring toward the bathroom, still worried that maybe she’s in pain or nervous about tomorrow, when a squeeze of my hand brings me back to Charlie.
“None of that was fake, Gwen,” he says, the crease between his eyes deepening with concern. “There are things we can’t tell her, of course. But I really do hate orange juice, and I’m allergic to blueberries, and I think Revenge of the Sith is criminally underrated.” He grins a little, like he’s encouraging me to do the same, and I roll my eyes in response. “We’re in this for the long haul, right? Partners, hopefully friends. That means being as honest with Ana as I can, and hoping both of you can trust me to take care of you.”
It hits me then just how sincere he was yesterday. He meant it when he saidfriends and partners.
A little piece of me I didn’t know was out of alignment settles. Sure, I was worried about turning into Isabelle, about marrying a man who doesn’t care about me just for what he can provide. But I had no idea how something as simple as true, earnest friendship would settle that fear.