Asher drops his hold on me, and my feet meet the ground again even as it feels like my whole world has just been ripped right out from under me with the emotions displayed across Charlottes face.
She stands in the doorway. She doesn't look angry, she looks . . . drained.
Her eyes move from Asher to me, then back again.
"How long?" she asks.
My throat closes instantly. I expect her to be angry, to yell at me but she doesn't. She stands there, her face somewhere between blank and broken. Her mouth is twisted, dark hair stark against her pale face.
Asher steps slightly in front of me, protective without thinking. "Charlotte-"
"I'm not talking to you." Her voice isn't loud. It doesn't need to be.
Her gaze settles on me.
"How long, Ivy?"
I swallow. My mouth is dry. "Two months."
She nods once.
"I saw you," she says quietly. "At the rink. Weeks ago."
My stomach drops. The memory of that night flashes through my mind. The night Asher got back from his away game. The night we were almost caught at the rink.
"I didn't say anything," she continues. Her fingers curl slightly at her sides before one hand drifts up, pressing briefly to her stomach like she's steadying herself. She lowers it again.
"I told myself I'd ask about it when things settled down."
Silence hangs heavy between us.
"They just... never did."
Her voice wavers, just slightly.
"I couldn't handle another thing."
The words don't sound accusing.
They sound exhausted.
"Charlie," I whisper, stepping forward. "I didn't mean to-"
"You had weeks," she says softly. "Weeks."
"I didn't know how to tell you."
She lets out a small breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
"You didn't trust me enough to try. I even asked you-"
"That's not fair," I say quickly. "I was scared. I didn't want to hurt you."
"You don't get to decide what hurts me," she replies.
The words aren't sharp. They're simple and that's almost makes it worse.
"I would've been okay," she says. Her eyes are glossy now, but she refuses to let the tears fall. "If you'd come to me. If you'd told me."
