Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

The Winner Takes It All

Neither of you spoke of the invitation for the rest of the day. After Charlie had taken the RSVP from you, you could tell he was doing everything he could not to lose it for Henry's sake. You'd never seen him that angry. His whole body shook as he stared down at the card on the counter, his fingers gripping the granite so forcefully you were almost certain it would split and crack into a million pieces. His face was red, his hair in his eyes as he came to terms with everything. You cautiously laid a hand on the middle of his back causing him to tense up before he turned you to and pulled you into his arms. It was the tightest he had ever held you. 

Like he thought he might lose you. 

Like he was so afraid something so stupid would tear you apart. 

But it wasn't really stupid, was it?

You surmised was just one minute example of how she must have made him feel while they were together. The act, in itself, spoke volumes. With the stroke of a pen, she had not only invalidated you as a person, but also your relationship, who you were to Charlie, and the role you played in Henry's life. Someone who thought so little of Charlie really shouldn't have ever had that kind of power...and yet she did.

It wasn't until you were in bed, Henry fast asleep, that he even broached the subject. He was cuddled close, spooning you. His arm hemmed and hawed like he wondered if you even still wanted him before you made a move to pull it over your stomach. He had been holding his breath. The air escaped his lungs as you touched him, bringing his fingers to rest atop your navel.

"I'm not going," he whispered softly. "Not without you."

You turned over to face him, his hand never daring to leave your body."I know neither of us really want to be there, maybe me more than you, but it really isn't fair to you."

"Think of what it says if you don't go."
"Think of what it says if I do."

You furrowed your brow, trying to see things from his point of view.

"If I don't go--what? She'll talk about me? Like she hasn't already? And...and if I do, what does that say?  He sighed. "If I go, I'll be in a room alone surrounded by people I used to call family who won't so much as hug me anymore."

He moved away and threw back the covers, getting out of bed and walking over to pluck his pajama pants off of the dresser. He turned to you, pulling them on.

"What about Henry?"

"Don't bring Henry into this."  His tone took you aback. You'd apparently peeled back the bandage on an old wound. Charlie took a moment to collect his thoughts. "What does it say about us if I go?"

"I don't know that it says anything."
"Exactly."
"What do you mean?"

He wiped over his mouth with his hand, holding it there for a moment as he put together a thought.

"If I go without you, she wins."
"It's not a game, Charlie."

"Isn't it? All I've---" He scoffs and remembers to watch his volume so he doesn't wake Henry. "All I've ever done is tried to give her what she wants, no matter what it is, and she takes and takes and takes until she bleeds me dry. Even with the divorce. It wasn't enough that I wasn't her husband anymore and that she had her freedom. She needed to hurt me and she still does. It's why I don't have real joint custody of Henry. It wasn't enough that I gave up everything to move out here for a little while to be with him. That I put my life on hold to fit her schedule to see him--which you're witnessing right now--and I do it every fucking time because I don't have a choice."