He doesn’t push. Just shrugs. “Neither did you, a week ago, seems like.”
Fair. But unfair, too.
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
I nod.
A long pause stretches between us.
He drains his glass and sets it down on the bar. Then turns and studies me. “You think you can build something real with someone so messy?” He seems genuinely interested in knowing the answer.
I shrug. “I think everything’s complicated. It’s just a matter of whether it’s worth dealing with.”
He nods slowly. “Huh.”
I watch Annie gathering flower arrangements and throwing them in boxes while complimenting the wedding planner on tonight’s success. And I come to a conclusion.
“Maybe,” I say, more to myself than to him, “stability isn’t peace and quiet. It’s staying. It’s choosing someone. Again and again, even when it’s messy.Especiallywhen it’s messy.”
Charlie looks away. “That’s a nice idea.”
“It’s not an idea,” I say more firmly. “It’s a plan.”A tentative one, but still.
He blinks slowly. “You’re serious, then.”
“And you’re full of shit.”
He laughs, and it’s a real one. Tired and a little grateful. He raises his glass, eyes a little clearer now. “To anarchy, then,” he says.
I clink my glass against his. “And to the people who make it feel like home.”
Home. A place where I’m safe and protected and unafraid. I take a deep breath, and from this new place, the one Annie helped me find, the anarchic fortress she let me into, I decide that maybe… I should give something a shot.
“Hey,” I say, shifting awkwardly on my stool. “I never said thanks.”
He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For theHarlotsuggestion,” I admit, scratching the back of my neck. “You said I’d do well. You were right.”
His brow lifts a little higher. “You actually did it?”
I nod once. “Yeah. PhD wasn’t paying, Mom got really sick, bills started stacking up, rent was high—I needed to. But it turned out… I was good at it. Made real money. Kept it quiet. Still do.”
Charlie whistles, low and impressed. “Well shit. Must have left before you got big. Good for you, man. Proud of you.”
I huff out a laugh, surprised by the rush of relief I feel. I’m not even sure what I was expecting. Judgment? Mockery? But of course not. It’s Charlie. He’s a very, very famous porn star.
“You ever regret it?” I ask.
Charlie doesn’t react right away. He just rolls the empty glass between his palms, eyes back on May across the room. “Yeah,” he finally says. “But not for the reason you think.” He shakes his head. “Does Annie know?”
“Annie’s the only person I’ve told,” I say after a beat. “She didn’t flinch. Said I shouldn’t be ashamed of any of my choices. Should be proud of them, even.”
Charlie nods slowly. “That’s a good woman, man.”
My chest swells. Not just with love, but with something sharper and quieter beneath it. Permission. Not to change, but to stay and to grow around the things I used to hide.
“Yeah,” I agree. “She is.”
