Page 9 of What He Always Knew

Charlie was already rushing toward the door, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I can’t, meeting with Robin to discuss a few lesson plans. I’ll need to make a plan for when we’re out for the conference now, too.”

Something had shifted in Charlie since the beginning of lunch, likely due to her award nomination. She smiled so brightly, her cheeks rosy pink, hazelnut eyes wide and light.

I hated that I had to share her.

She seemed to read that emotion on my face, because she checked over her shoulder that we were alone, then she stepped into me, lifting up onto her toes to press a kiss to my lips.

I stiffened, eyes still open and searching behind her, but the other teachers had gone already. So, I melted into her, pulling her flush against me and sucking her bottom lip between my teeth. She grinned against my lips, sealing the kiss with one last peck, and then she pulled back, flushed.

“For the record,” I said, sweeping a fallen strand of her hair behind her ear. “I hate that you’re going home to him tonight.”

Her face crumpled. “Please… I need you to understand.”

“I do,” I assured her. “But it doesn’t make me hate it any less.”

She squeezed my hand in understanding, and I held that hand as she walked away, only letting it drop once she’d reached the doorway of the café. I watched her go, leaning against the doorframe until she disappeared around the corner of the hallway, and then I finally made my way back to my classroom.

Two months.

I shook my head, disappointed in myself that I’d thought Cameron would let her go so easily. I hated him for asking her for anything, most of all more time, but I couldn’t blame him. He was playing his last cards, whatever ones he had left.

I would have done the same.

I would have done anything to keep her.

Still, I didn’t know how I would get her alone now, how I would remind her of the way it felt to be together this weekend. Something happened in my house, in that fort, at that piano — it was like traveling back in time, but as the people we are now. I wanted to share all of my scars with her, and I wanted to heal all of hers in return.

That would be harder to do with Cameron holding on so tight.

The realization that Blake was in the picture now, too, made me curl my fists in the pockets of my slacks. I didn’t know where to start with explaining her to Charlie, and I didn’t know how to cut Blakeoutof the picture, either.

The truth was, I loved her, too. I didn’t want to hurt her.

But I didn’t want tobewith her, either.

I sighed, running a frustrated hand through my hair. The truth would have to come out — to Charlie first, and eventually, to Blake. Would Charlie hate me? Would she understand?

Would this work in Cameron’s favor?

I didn’t have any of the answers, but I knew one thing for sure.

I had to get Charlie alone before tomorrow night.

Cameron

When I was eight years old, I watched my father beat my mother to a bloody pulp — and then he went to jail for the rest of his life, and I went to live with my grandparents.

That was the sob story everyone wanted from me. Everyone. The girls who slept with me, the sports psychiatrist for the hockey team at Garrick, the coach who didn’t understand why I didn’t try to go pro — they all wanted the story. They wanted to solve the mystery, to know more about the man behind the mask.

Charlie was the only one who ever got it.

She was the only one who ever got the story, who ever gotallof me.

I couldn’t be sure why those memories were resurfacing as I sat on the edge of our bed Wednesday evening, watching Charlie put on her makeup in her vanity mirror. I used to follow her around when she was getting ready, back when we were younger. It’d take me all of ten minutes to be dressed and ready to go for a night out, but it always took her at least an hour.

So, I followed her around, playing music for us and talking about anything and everything.

I’d make her laugh, refill her wine, tell her she didn’t even need any of the makeup she was so carefully applying. She’d tell me about her dreams and I’d listen. I always loved to listen to her, even when I didn’t have much to say.