“You should probably know, she’s blaming herself.”
“For what?”
“For Isla collapsing. She thinks it was her fault.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You know that, and I know that, but I think Charlotte probably needs to hear it from you.” Liam didn’t pull any punches. Something I appreciated. There’s no way I could try and untangle female riddles.
“Thanks. I might just go …”
“I’ll leave you to it.” He winked as he helped me up off the floor.
Three mouthfuls of dirty dishwater passed off as coffee, and I tossed it in the trash as I marched down the hall to find Charlotte. She was hiding from me. I know why she was keeping her distance, but it was unnecessary. I didn’t blame her for what happened. It could’ve quite as easily have been me with Isla when she’d collapsed. Or Mrs. Neal. Charlotte was just the unlucky one.
Rounding the corner, I saw her sitting behind her desk, typing frantically. She had her long hair twisted up with a pen poked through the top holding it in place, her dark glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her mouth was set in a harsh straight line. She looked like she was in the middle of something and as reluctant as I was to interrupt, I knew this was more important than whatever it was she was working on. At least I hoped she’d see it that way.
“Knock, knock,” I said as I banged on the door.
Charlotte’s head snapped up and when she saw me, her bottom lip trembled as she pushed back from her desk.
“Luke …”
“Come here,” I instructed as I strode into her office, holding my arms out to her.
“I ... I ... I …”
“You can. And you will,” I finished for her, hating her hesitation.
The moment she got close enough, I dragged her into my arms, not wanting to let go. When I breathed in her scent, I fell apart. I wasn’t proud of myself, I’d come here to reassure Charlotte and I ended up sobbing on her shoulder.
“Hey! She’ll be okay,” Charlotte attempted to reassure me as she ran her hand up and down my back.
“I’m sorry,” I cried, sniffling.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be apologizing. You asked me to take care of her and we ended up in the hospital.”
“It’s not your fault, Charlotte. You know that, right?”
She shrugged half-heartedly. She might have heard what I was saying, but that didn’t mean she was buying a word of it.
Pulling apart, Charlotte grabbed the box of tissues, handing me one.
“Wow. I didn’t mean that,” I admitted, wiping away the tears.
“You probably needed it. I mean, when she went down, I’ve never been so scared in my life. So, I can only begin to imagine what you’re going through.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked, reaching for her again.
“Nothing really. Just as her father I can only try to guess how scared you were when I called.”
“I was terrified,” I confirmed, and Charlotte tried to back away. “But do you know what helped?”
“What?”
“What made it easier was the fact I knew you were with her.”
“It did?”
