Chapter 11 - Charlie.

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"Henry, could you please help Jessica pick up the mess you made?" Charlie spoke from the dining table, phone perched between his ear and shoulder while his fingers typed at his computer set out in front of him.

Jessica, a seventeen year old girl with blonde hair and blue eyes – who also happened to be Henry's new nanny– spoke up, batting her long eye lashes at the older man.

"How many times have I told you Mr. Barber, call me Jess." The young girl spoke, a grin curled on her red-painted lips.

Charlie tried not to roll his eyes at the girl. He wasn't sure how he hadn't grown sick of her yet, or worse, fired her. She was like a leech— always following him and batting those excessively long eyelashes at him, trying to flirt and seduce him poorly.

She was almost unbearable at times even, always finding some excuse to brush up against him in the kitchen or bend over as he passed to pick up a toy Henry had left on the ground. But he tolerated it, for having someone there to watch Henry was better then having nobody.

But even Henry had grown to be just as irritable and on-edge as his father, always having tantrums and picking fights with Charlie, Nicole, and even Jessica. And it all tied into one reason, and one reason alone — you.

Charlie didn't think about you as much anymore. Ever since he left that money on the counter and you disappeared– which he had asked you to do– his life had turned upside down. He was rarely home, always stuck at the theatre or somewhere else, his home had grown to be a mess, and his bed cold.

   It wasn't that his heart wasn't still hung up on you, being ringed and wrenched for every last drop it had, but that he used his busy and chaotic life to distract him, to help him cope with pushing you away.

   And he tried, he really did, to not think about you, your voice, how you smelled so good, how your skin was so soft, but at the end of the day when he had to return to his once-again empty bed, the reminder would just stab in the heart once more.

   Nicole asked questions, Henry asked questions, but he just gave them all the same answer, because he couldn't admit to the fact that it was his fault you left. So, he would just repeat the same sentence like a mantra until he felt like a broken record saying it;

   "She quit because she was offered a job somewhere else."

   People believed him, of course. He was director who wrote for a living, Charlie knew how to lie. Nicole was disappointed, and Henry even more, but nobody really knew what happened, only Charlie and you.

   Nobody knew about the sex, the secret kisses, the shy touches, the sweet nothings. It all happened in the little world you and Charlie once had – and now it was gone, for better or for worse.

    And it that moment, it felt like a little secret that stayed between the two of you, a forbidden love that was packed with tear-jerking and adrenaline. But now, it was a burden on Charlie's shoulders.

   "Mr. Barber, you look awfully stressed. Why don't I wash those dishes from dinner?" Jessica offers, leaning over the dining table to get Charlie's attention.

   Charlie doesn't even glance at the young girl. He'd give her props, she knew how to play the part and get men's attention, just not his. He didn't pride himself in being a man who preyed on young girls.

   "Uh, oh, yeah that would be great, thanks." Charlie mutters in response, eyes still glued to his computer screen as he typed away at his draft of notes.

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