Chapter 3: Years On, Novo Amor

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Hello! We're here! I hope you've been enjoying Charlotte and Danny so far. As you've likely noticed, it's a dual point of view story and I really you hope you'll love Charlotte and Danny as much as I do. Do vote if you're here and let me know in the comments what you think.

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It hurts to see Danny retreat like he did. But I can't blame him. What he doesn't know is that it's the first time that it happens since Tom died. Even at times when I desperately needed to heal and ease the pain, I couldn't do it on myself. I no longer could do it on anything, let alone other people. Back when I started to develop this ability to heal others, I was told it was a gift. But this gift also makes me a freak that terrorise the man I want to be with.

I don't know what to do. Part of me wants to give him space. But the rest of me is screaming from the pain of his rejection.

The cat on his bed is staring at me. I know she can see it: the colourful haze around me. Because for the first time in for ever, I notice she's a soft red. And it scares me. It feels like allowing myself to be vulnerable with Lisa earlier, to let out all the emotions I've been bottling up, has also let in all the rest.

Against my better judgment, I knock on Danny's bathroom door and plead: 'Danny? Dan... please,'

He yanks the door open, faces me, clearly fuming.

'Leave me alone!'

'Dan... you're upset because you're fighting it.'

'Fighting what?'

'You were holding on to it. Your pain. It only happened because you were ready to let go.'

You sound insane! I hear his voice in my head so painfully clearly. He would never say that to my face, and it doesn't help that I know he's thinking it anyway. It's hard. Because if I don't have him and his support, then what am I doing here?

I considered skipping mum's funeral. I had good reasons to. No one would have blamed me. Even dad isn't coming. They were separated but they never divorced. That must mean something. I refuse to believe that my parents were cynical to the point of staying married for the administrative and financial benefits of it. Besides, I know he still loved her. And in her own twisted way, mum loved him too.

Her death gave me the perfect excuse to come back. I don't intend to stay, but I know that deep down, I've always wanted to come back for him. For Danny. But it had always felt like that ship had long sailed. And maybe even deeper down I've been hoping that there would still be hope for us. So here I am.

He's also conflicted. It's subtle, but I can see it in his eyes. The love he feels for me, that he confessed earlier. And the fear. The inability to make sense of this thing that's happened.

I want to tell him I too have never stopped loving him. That's all I can think about when I stand here facing him.

'Don't ever do it again without asking me.'

He's less angry. Still looks confused.

'I don't always control it. But I'll try,' I promise.

'Then you've got to learn to control it, Charlie!'

Don't yell at me, please.

But he's also right. It was the plan. Before the accident. Before there no longer was a gift to learn to control. I don't think it's a coincidence that it's resurfacing now. Here. I love Oslo. I was born there. Spent the first couple years of my life in Norway, and then we moved to England. I've never felt the same when I'm over there, though. I can't explain it. Sometimes it's a vague feeling that I belong in London. And most of the time, particularly after Danny and I met, the feeling sharpens, and I know it's because I belong with him.

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