Are we even reconciling? We’ve never put a label on what we’re doing. Maybe we should, but the thought terrifies me. This has been her timeline since the day I broke her trust. If she’s not ready for labels, I can live with that.
We’re taking it slow. Dates, conversations, and just living in the moment. Sometimes we talk about the past, and it gets heavy. Every day, we’re both healing, making peace with my mistakes. My infidelity will always be a scar, a reminder of how far I fell when I stopped cherishing what I had. Complacency was just as much to blame. I let our relationship grow stagnant, gave my attention elsewhere, and failed to nurture what mattered most.
Charlie fought for us until the day she found me in that pool house, betraying her. After that, she fought for herself. The battle for our relationship became mine alone, with no promise of a future together.
There are so many signs we’re moving forward that I can’t help but believe we’ll make it. I know the road ahead won’t be smooth, but I’m ready for every bump along the way.
Healing Tears and Putting on Labels
Keaton
CharlieandIsinkinto the couch, our eyes following Jinx as she darts after her favorite toy. Charlie’s nervous habit surfaces. Her finger traces her bottom lip, a silent signal that something heavy is weighing on her. I sense her gathering courage, so I stay open and patient, letting her know I’m here for whatever she needs.
But nothing prepares me for what she does next. In one fluid motion, she swings her leg over mine and settles into my lap. For a moment, I’m stunned, frozen beneath the sudden warmth of her body. My hands find her waist, gentle and tentative, as I hold her gaze.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
A bead of sweat forms on my lip as I battle my body’s raw response. She deserves more than just my hunger. I refuse to let her think I’m focused on anything but her needs. Still, it’s been ages since I’ve held her this close, and the ache is almost unbearable.
Charlie’s gaze burns into me as she lets her full weight settle against my body. She stays perfectly still, her eyes locked on mine, the air between us thick with unspoken words.
The longer our eyes meet, the more the tension coils between us. The air grows heavy, thick with a heat that begs to be fed. Every point where our skin meets crackles, daring us to give in to the fire smoldering between us.
But not yet.
That’s one step we’re not ready to take.
I offer her a gentle smile and reach up, brushing stray hair from her eyes. My fingers trace their outline, then drift down the bridge of her nose to her lips. I’ve always been captivated by how full they are—made for kissing, impossibly tempting.
I move in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. When she stays, I press my lips softly to hers. We break apart, then find each other again, and again, until the heat between us boils over and Charlie claims my mouth with hers, urgent and hungry.
I lose myself in her taste, my heart pounding so hard it leaves me dizzy, every sense consumed by her.
Or maybe it’s just the taste of Charlie.
Moments later, a chill slices through me as I feel wetness on my cheeks. I pull back to find Charlie’s face shining with tears, her pain spilling silently between us.
My own vision blurs as I witness her pain. I press my lips gently to her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears, letting her sorrow seep into me.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I whisper in a chant as I fill my veins with her pain.
Charlie shakes her head and blows out a watery breath. “Just give me a minute.”
I go to pull away, but Charlie shakes her head and tightens her hold on me.
“No. Don’t go anywhere. Just hold me and give me a chance to breathe.”
“Whatever you need,” I whisper, wrapping my arms tighter around her when she buries her head in my chest.
Time crawls as we hold onto each other, both of us feeling the weight of everything unspoken. I understand now how easily wounds can open, and how hard it is to heal them.
Shame twists in my stomach, remorse tightening around my throat.
I hate that I’ve scattered landmines in her path, each one a risk of detonating something we might never recover from.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I whisper.
“No, but it’s the only way we’re going to fully move past this.” Charlie kisses my chest before she leans back so she can look at me. “Earlier, with the simple kisses, I didn’t have time to get inside my head.”
