Page 28 of What He Doesn't Know

“Show me.”

Her eyes were wet and wide with confusion as she looked up at me, the lights from Pittsburgh shining in their gloss. “What?”

“Your stretch marks. Show me.”

Charlie’s brows bent together, her hands hesitant as they moved to her stomach. She opened my coat she wore first, then unbuttoned her own beneath it. Her hands finally found her thin blouse and she yanked it from where it was tucked into her jeans, lifting it along with the tank top she wore underneath.

Chills broke against the pale skin of her bare midriff, and I dropped to my knees, leaning in closer to find the shiny pink marks that ran across that white skin like tiny roads on a map. I pulled one glove off, reaching forward with warm fingertips that made her shudder when I pressed them against those marks. My fingers skated the lines, the thick bottoms of them that faded off into thin tips. A tear fell from where Charlie watched above me, hitting my wrist, and I cast my gaze upward to find hers.

“Charlie, they’re beautiful.”

And then, she broke.

Charlie’s face warped, emotion taking over her, and she collapsed into me. Her arms wrapped around my head, pulling me into her bare stomach, and I wrapped my own around her, too. I caught her as her knees gave out, as tears ripped through her. Her tiny shoulders shook and small cries left her lips in sounds I knew would haunt me forever.

My little tadpole, no longer innocent, no longer untouched by the cruelty of life.

I waited until her sobs had subsided, all the while holding her tighter and tighter, letting her know I was there to bear the weight she could no longer hold. Then, when she was quiet, I stood, lifting her chin with me so her eyes would find mine.

“You are an amazing mother already, Charlie, and I know you will make your future children happier than you can even imagine now.”

Her face warped again, but she fought against it, nodding into my hand that had found her cheek.

“And you are the best teacher I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. You are touching lives daily, Jeremiah’s included. Those marks on your stomach, while they are forever a part of you, they do not define you. They are not a sign of your weakness or of your failure.” I smiled then, rubbing the pad of my thumb along her cheek. “They are a reminder of your strength, of your love, and of the miracle of life.”

Charlie choked out a laugh, and a smile broke on her face, her eyes still glistening in the soft light of the city. She nodded, and then without even a second of hesitation, she pressed a kiss into my palm.

At that, both of our smiles fell.

She watched me, her eyes flicking between mine before they fell to my lips, and damn if that didn’t send a jolt of electricity right between my legs. I stepped into her, thumb still brushing her cheek, her jaw, and when she lifted her eyes to mine again, a new kind of presence fell over us.

“Why didn’t you kiss me that night?” she asked, her voice a broken whisper.

I swallowed, my free hand coming to her waist, pulling her into me. Charlie lifted onto her toes, and my fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, capturing her fallen hair between our skin. If we had lit a match in that moment, the entire Duquesne Incline would have gone up in flames, along with every shred of morality we both tried so desperately to hold onto.

“You were sixteen, Charlie. I was leaving.”

“So, then, why would it have mattered? Why not just kiss me?”

She was so small in my hands, but so largely present in every other part of me. She always had been.

“For the same reason you don’t hold your hand in a fire just because it’s warm,” I answered. “Because it burns.”

Her eyes were still on my lips, as if she were watching each word I said leave them in finely written script. Charlie’s chest hit my ribs as she stepped farther into me, and I bent to meet her forehead with mine. We both took a breath, long and deep, inhaled in a moment of torture and longing, and then Charlie let it go with the sigh of reality.

“I can’t drive,” she said, her fists tightening in my sweater. “Can you… will you take me home?”

She pulled back then, and I let her go, squeezing my eyes shut tight until I knew she could see them again.

“Of course, Tadpole. Whatever you need.”

On the way back down the Incline, Charlie’s eyes watched the city again, and just like before, mine watched her.

But it was a completely new woman I saw this time.

A beautiful, strong, broken shell of a woman.

A beautiful, strong, broken shell of a woman whom I wanted so desperately to save.