This man and I have survived hell together. More storms will come, but every challenge only forges us stronger.
When Keaton cheated on me, there was one question that lingered in my mind.
Who is Charlie Henderson without Keaton Carr?
And you know what I found out?
That I’m just me.
A little flawed, a little broken, but far stronger than I ever believed.
I don’t need Keaton. I’ve learned that I never have.
But I choose him.
I choose us.
And I choose love.
Love and Intimacy
Charlie
KeatonandIhavebeen balancing precariously on the edge of a sexual cliff. One more sensual touch, one more heated breath, one more filthy groan from him, and I’m going to combust into a wanton mess.
In the six months since Rianna’s arrest, Keaton and I have been weaving the fragile beginnings of something new between us.
It’s strange how there’s still so much to discover about someone I’ve known nearly all of my life.
Every night, Keaton arrives with flowers, my favorite snack, and a smile that says I’m his whole world. He kisses me softly, calls me beautiful even when I’m a disaster, pours wine, and gathers me onto his lap. He listens, eyes drinking me in as if I might vanish if he looks away.
Keaton doesn’t just say he loves me. He proves it in every gentle gesture, every thoughtful act.
When the world feels too heavy, he anchors me. If I need to hide, Keaton burrows under the covers and holds me close. On his hard days, he lets me in instead of pretending everything’s fine.
Two weeks ago, I asked him to move in. It felt like leaping off a cliff. I agonized for months, talking it through with my therapist and Amelia. One clinical, one emotional, both unexpectedly supportive.
I think back on my conversation with Amelia.
“He’s changed, babe. More than I ever expected he would. Sometimes, when he doesn’t realize it, I watch him with you. I wait for any hint that he’s playing you. That he’s not actually remorseful for what he did. I wait for any sign that he’ll do it again. But I never find it, Charlie. You know what I find? A man drowning in remorse. One willing to do anything to make up for the hurt he caused. He watches you like you’re the fucking air he breathes, babe. It’s like he’d suffocate without you. I see a man so fucking in love with a woman that he’d break himself first before ever harming her again. I think this is a good move for you both. Last time, you were the one who had to start over from scratch. Moving him into your place gives you the security—the control of knowing that if something ever happens again, you won’t be the one who has to start over. You once told me that Keaton cheating on you made you feel out of control. How do you feel now?”
“As if I finally have control over my life and my relationship with Keaton.”
“Do you love him?”
“More than I ever have. It’s as if this version of Keaton is…” I pause, trying to think of how to describe him now. “It’s as if he’s more than who he was. Does that make sense?”
“And do you feel this is the right move for you?”
I take the time to think about her answer before nodding slowly. “I do. I’m ready to take this step.”
“Then you have your answer, babe. Move forward and be happy.”
Keaton’s shock was almost comical when I asked. He hadn’t expected me to be ready, but he’d wanted this for ages. With Brock, Bear, Rune, and Alek, we moved him out of his studio above the tattoo shop and into my world in just two days.
Having Keaton back in my space is a wild, beautiful chaos I never knew I missed.
Catching him fresh from the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Goddess help me. Every drop of water on his chest tempts me to follow it with my tongue. He knows exactly what he’s doing, that wicked glint and sinful smirk giving him away.
