Page 62 of What He Doesn't Know

She looked like my Charlie.

“I brought Jane.” She shrugged, her shoulders falling heavily back into place in the saddest sign of defeat.

I wanted to kiss her so bad it hurt.

But I just laughed instead, pushing the screen door open to take the cage from her hand.

“A tadpole and a bird, just what I ordered. Come on, let’s get you both warm.”

It was just a normal Monday. Until it wasn’t.

Charlie

I knew the entire drive over to Reese’s house that it was a bad idea to go.

Part of me knew it before I’d even started getting dressed, before I’d moved Jane to her travel cage, before I put the car in drive. When he’d asked me to come over earlier that morning, it was the absolute last thing I wanted. But then I got home, and just like Reese had said, Cameron wasn’t there. He worked all day and went immediately to the Penguins game after.

I thought maybe he would come home. Maybe just this once, for one night, he’d sell his tickets and come home. He’d been the one to find Edward that morning, after all. I knew they weren’thisbirds, but was he not hurting?

If anything, did he not realize how much I was?

Between him forgetting our anniversary and Edward passing away, I was a complete mess. I hadn’t been able to keep myself under control all day at school, which affected my kids’ moods, too. My eyes were puffy and red from the constant crying, and all I wanted was a little relief from the pain.

So, even though I knew it was a bad idea, I’d gotten in the car and driven to Reese’s house, anyway. And now I was here, and Reese was placing Jane’s cage on top of his coffee table while I peeled off my coat, hat, and scarf.

“I’m sorry I just showed up,” I said, looking around for somewhere to put my coat. Reese crossed the room to take it from me, hanging it over the back of his sofa. “I should have called.”

“You didn’t need to call. I invited you, remember?”

“Yes, but I never said I was coming.” I eyed his pajama pants, simple navy sweats that hung low on his hips.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

That had been the first thing I’d noticed when he opened the door.

His chest and stomach were so familiar to me, even now with the new patches of hair below his belly button and in the center of his pecs. I’d seen Reese shirtless so many times growing up, back when it was just normal for a teenage boy to be without a shirt in the summer or in the comfort of his own home where my best friend lived.

He had a moon-shaped scar underneath the right side of his ribcage from a bottle rocket fight he and my brother got into when they were sixteen.

I’d always loved that scar.

“You didn’t have to,” Reese said, running a hand through his long, disheveled hair. He watched me for a moment like he couldn’t believe I was in his house, like he had no idea what to do next. “I was drinking beer earlier, but I can open up one of those bottles of wine I told you about? If you want.”

“Wine would be nice.”

I followed Reese into his kitchen, taking in his home as we walked through it. It was a modest bachelor pad, a few unpacked boxes still lining the back wall of his living room and absolutely nothing hanging on the walls. His furniture was neutral, simple and cohesive, and his kitchen housed only the necessities from what I could see. He had a coffee pot that I assumed was the most-used appliance he owned, and there was a chair and an empty box flipped upside down near his sliding glass door.

Reese followed my eyes to that spot as he pulled a bottle of red wine from a rack on his counter. I wondered who’d bought that wine rack for him, because I knew he wouldn’t have bought it himself.

“Isn’t my little smoking corner so sophisticated?” he asked, corking the bottle. “Sure as hell beats freezing my balls off on the back porch.”

“You know, the easier solution would be to stop smoking,” I challenged, setting the bag of tacos I’d brought on the kitchen island. He handed me a fresh glass of wine, and I had a feeling none of those tacos were going to be eaten.

It was a liquid dinner kind of night.

“Nah. Sounds healthy and smart. Not my style.” Once he had a glass filled for himself, he lifted it in the air toward me. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”