Being Alive [Charlie Barber]

Chapter 14 : Alone

Charlie Barber was the first person to ever buy you flowers.

    You cried every time you saw them.

    The day after Charlie had been too busy meeting with his family's new counselor to come over and see you, the day you received the flowers, you took off work.

You sent a quick text to Charlie that morning. It was straight to the point and professional, telling him that you woke up not feeling well and you'd have to stay home.

At first, he replied just as politely, thank you for letting him know and to feel better.

    A few hours later, after Charlie arrived at work and knew that there was no chance that anyone would be potentially reading his messages, he sent you six more:

9:42 AM - I'm so sorry I couldn't make it over last night.

10:12 AM- We can talk about it tomorrow

11:33 AM - Are you feeling better? Do you need anything? I can stop by your place during lunch if you want.

1:45 PM - Remind me to tell you what Frank did this morning. It was hilarious. You'll love it.

2:30 PM - Did you get my flowers?

5:02 PM - I'm going home now. Don't reply.

You didn't reply to any of them. You weren't sure what to say.

If you went through with what you promised, ending things with Charlie, what did that mean for you? He was your boss. He was always so sweet to you and so protective but how would he react if you burned him? Would he fire you? Would you even want to work with him if he wasn't fucking you on your fifteen-minute breaks?

Being Henry's babysitter wasn't going to be easy either now, regardless of if you continued sneaking around with Charlie. Looking into his son's eyes felt so wrong knowing that you were tearing his family apart.

You backed yourself into a corner. Your entire life in New York revolved around Charlie. Your job, your connections, your happiness... All Charlie.

You weren't sure where that left you.

The day that you stayed home from work, Charlie was a mess. Yes, he missed you but it wasn't that, you had hardly been apart. It was the fact that not having you around allowed his guilt to truly hit him. When he was physically with you, he could let his happiness override the sick feeling he had deep down. When he went home at night, he could still ride that high knowing that he would see you the next day and that happiness would be back.

But with you not around, all he was left with was the reminder that he was cheating on his wife with his intern.

He felt disgusting.

Charlie knew he was making a fool out of himself with the number of texts he sent you, looking down at the words on his screen he could see that each message he sent sounded more and more desperate, begging for you to respond.

Charlie was desperate.

For what? He wasn't sure. He was desperate for that feeling you gave him. The feeling of being alive, having something to look forward to, something to occupy his mind. It had been so long since he'd felt this way. He went so long just existing and tolerating.

He was desperate for the blissfully ignorant state that your smile and laugh and eyes gave him daily. No matter how wrong the situation between the two of you was, it always felt so fucking right because it was you.