Page 15 of What He Doesn't Know

I tried not to think about it often, the day a crazed gunman stole my family from me. They were just standing there in the middle of Central Park, watching a musical performance behind the Met, and the next thing they knew, there were gun shots. I read every survivor’s account of what happened, listened to their interviews on how the gun shots rang out, the screams, people running or hiding or pretending like they were already dead.

But my family had been right there, front row, just enjoying an afternoon in the park. Wrong place, wrong time.

I didn’t know how long Charlie and I stood there before she spoke again, but when she did, the words flew out of her in a fit of anger and pain, and it was the most emotion she’d given me since I’d stepped foot back in town.

“I’m sorry,” she said first, her voice cracking. “I’m so,sosorry, Reese. I didn’t keep in touch with Mallory after you guys left. I was so angry, and sad. I didn’t understand why you guys had to go. I was still in high school, you know? I had to stay behind while everyone I cared about moved on. And when I heard the news, I still didn’t reach out to you. I didn’t want to be more of a burden, to be just another person trying to soothe you when I hadn’t been a part of your life for so long. But I was wrong for that. I should have reached out, I should have been there for you.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” I said quickly, both to comfort her and to fight against the burning in my throat.

I didn’t even have the thought in my head before my hands were reaching for her, pulling her into me for a hug. I should have hesitated, should have remembered that she belonged to another man, but it was instinctive in that moment — the urge to stop her pain.

She was so small in my arms, the faint scent of coffee fresh on her breath, a few strands of her silky hair falling loose from her bun. I rested my chin on top of her head, rubbing her back with one hand. “It’s okay. Really, it is. I don’t hold anything against you and neither did Mallory.”

“She must have hated me,” Charlie whispered.

“She didn’t. She loved you, we all did.”

I still do.

“It’s not fair the way life works out sometimes, but it’s okay, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You had your own life to live here, Tadpole, and we had our own things happening in New York. It’s okay,” I repeated, hoping she believed me.

“You don’t hate me?”

She looked up at me then, her dark eyes glossed over with unshed tears, and I just chuckled.

“I could never hate you, Charlie.”

She sniffed, a small smile finding her bright pink mouth.

And I knew I should let her go.

I’d said what needed to be said, I’d eased her worry, but still, I held her. I swallowed, and her eyes fell to my throat before they glanced at my lips, sending a familiar zing of warning through me. It was the same warning I’d felt every time she looked at me that way when she was just a teenager, when the five years between us forbid us from ever being this close.

But it was a new warning, too. One that saidshe’s married.

My hands at the small of her back tightened, and my eyes watched hers, both of our smiles fading. I wanted to ask her if she was okay, if she was happy, if Cameron was what she wanted. But I had no right to ask any of those things.

Still, I held her.

Charlie watched my lips, like she was willing me to say something. I opened my mouth to grant her unspoken wish just as her dad’s voice called from the house.

“Charlie! Cam’s here!”

She stepped away from me quickly, a bit of her coffee sloshing out of her cup as she hiccuped again. “Sorry.”

“Charlie,” I tried, but she was already making her way through the yard.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” she called behind her. “I know my parents really appreciated it. I did, too.”

I caught up to her easily, reaching for her wrist to stop her. She spun, looking up at me with flushed cheeks.

“I have to go.”

“I know,” I said softly, reaching for the half-empty cup in her hand. “I’ll take this inside for you.”

She looked at my hand on hers, her grip still tight around the mug. Slowly, she loosened it, letting me take the porcelain from her grasp. “Thank you.”

I waited until her gaze found mine again. “See you at school.”