I close the door behind me.
52
I’m almost at the elevator bank when I hear his voice.
“Alice. Stop.” I turn around to find Charlie in his doorway.
We are at opposite ends of the hallway, but even from this distance I can see how lovely his eyes are. My chest tightens at the hope I find in them.
“I opened the envelope.”
“Oh?”
There were seven photos inside. Some color. Some black and white. Some were taken with my digital camera. Some I developed myself.
Six are of Charlie. Charlie holding a chocolate cake, glitter on his cheeks, a tiara on his head, staring at me as he sings “Happy Birthday” off-key. Charlie floating on the Pegasus-unicorn. Charlie and Nan chatting that first day, she in pearls, him in a bathing suit. Charlie making pickles. Charlie at the foot of the tree house at Percy and Sam’s party. Charlie in the yellow boat. In each of them, he looks directly at the camera, through the lens, and right at me.
The seventh is the photo he took of the two of us on the dock at the restaurant the day we went with Bennett, Heather, and Nan. And while the image isn’t perfectly focused, it’s so clear.
Charlie walks toward me, and I meet him halfway.
“Just this morning,” he says. “All of them. I tried to look before, but I couldn’t.”
“Why?” The question comes out as a whisper.
Charlie brushes a curl away from my temple. “Are you sure you want to know, Alice? Are you really sure?” There’s more vulnerability in his gaze than I’ve ever seen. “Because I’ve been trying to do something right. I want better for you than me. I want you to have a life full of freedom and joy and glitter and art. An endless bucket list.”
He stares into my eyes, and it’s the look from the photos. The look artists write songs and poems and books about. It’s the look I saw that day in the darkroom.
“Tell me what you saw in the photos, Charlie,” I say.
His gaze sweeps across my face, and when his eyes find mine, there’s something new there. A solid, unrelenting focus that roots me in place.
“I saw a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off you. A man who hasn’t looked so happy in a very long time. I saw a man who finally found the kind of person he always wanted for himself. A best friend. A smart-ass. A brilliant, talented, caring woman, who deserves so much more than me.”
Charlie’s eyes glide over my face like a gentle caress, and he takes my hand. We stare at each other.
I want what happens next, I want so many moments with Charlie, but standing on the precipice with him right now, about to take a leap together, is one of the most wondrous experiences of my life.
“I saw something else in those photos,” Charlie says.
And then he goes for it.
“I saw myself falling in love with you.”
My heart is racing and my throat is too tight to speak.
“I’m in love with you, Alice,” he says. “I knew the day you crashed John’s boat that you were going to be trouble for me. I should have kept my distance, but I couldn’t stay away. And the more I got to know you, the more beautiful and terrifying it became. Until I knew I’d finally found the person I’ve been waiting for.” He puts his forehead on mine and closes his eyes.
“But I thought that asking you to be with me was too selfish, even for me. I thought I could give you what you wanted—friendship and sex—and leave it at that. I would care for you, and you would care for me, and we’d hang out and kiss all summer and that would be enough. And one day, when you found someone who could guarantee the happy ending you deserve, I’d learn to be happy for you.”
My vision of him blurs with tears.
“When you told me you had feelings for me…I’m so sorry, Alice. I’m so sorry for everything I said. I just—”
I put my hand over his mouth. “Let’s leave the groveling for when you have more energy, and back up to the part that came before.”
Charlie smiles beneath my fingers. “The part where I tell you I love you?”
