Page 26

ALI

The following afternoon Ali barely had a chance to lift the brass octopus-shaped knocker before the door flew open.

She hadn’t even finished the nervous inhale meant to steady herself before Charlotte was there, beautiful and barefoot, in sweatpants and a white tank top that rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of olive skin. It was effortless and unbothered in a way that had Ali’s stomach flip-flopping.

Leave it to Charlotte to somehow make lounge wear look like a runway moment.

“I need help,” Charlotte said, voice tight, pulling Ali inside before they even exchanged hellos.

Charlotte’s usual confidence and perfect poise were gone. Replaced by a frazzled energy that clung to her like static. On some level, Ali expected anxiety; but the absolute dread rolling off her spoke to how deep some of Charlotte’s wounds went.

Ali’s head swiveled this way and that, taking in every inch. It was clear Charlotte remodeled the house but managed to hold onto its Victorian soul. Restored crown molding lined the walls, contrasting with the dark relaxing blue-green paint that might have been oppressive were it not for the light streaming in from all directions. Hardwood floors glowed under warm afternoon light, complementing the scent of lavender and spices that drifted down the hall from what Ali assumed was the kitchen. Tasteful art lined the walls with wooden and gilded frames, each one carefully chosen to complement the architecture, leading the eye up the elegant staircase.

Through a pair of open french doors a grand piano sat beneath a tasteful, leaflike chandelier. Teetering heaps of sheet music sprawled across the piano’s lid, a tiny bit of chaos in otherwise curated and organized perfection. The walls were made up of bookshelves packed with ancient-looking spines made of cracked leather and faded cloth.

Before she could take in any more, Charlotte was already pulling her up the stairs. Their footsteps were muffled by a runner that did nothing to hide the creak of certain steps. But then she was surrounded by a room painted in the most soothing blue-gray that brought a hush to Ali’s whirring thoughts.

A massive bed covered in pristine white bedding and enough pillows to build an epic fort. Her breath caught… She was in Charlotte’s bedroom.

Oh boy.

Not exactly how she imagined winding up in this particular room, but she could work with it.

But Charlotte tugged her right along, releasing her in the doorway of a closet that would be the envy of many a woman. It was large enough to be considered a small boutique, with rows of clothes, shelves of shoes. A station where accessories were arranged in neat, precise displays of drawers and hooks. It was perfect, almost intimidating in its organization. And amongst the order was a Charlotte who seemed achingly human in her disarray.

She flipped through articles of clothing, each movement sharp and aggressive.

Tightness gripped Ali’s chest as she tried to sort out what Charlotte needed. She said she needed help, but standing in the face of Charlotte’s chaos… Ali felt ill-equipped to provide it as a pit opened up in her stomach.

Not knowing what else to do or say, she went with the obvious.

“Wow, I know so many women who would kill for a closet like this.”

“It’s excessive, I know,” Charlotte snapped, continuing to flip through piece after piece. Barreling ahead, providing little time for Ali to flinch at the harshness in her tone. “What does one wear to your twin’s engagement party where you’re going to be forced to play nice with your ex in public for the first time in two years?”

The tightness in her chest loosened, understanding Charlotte’s struggle.

Careful steps drew her closer.

“You’ve managed to avoid this for two years? Impressive.”

Charlotte’s aggressive yanking slowed, self-deprecation clear in her tone. “Not cowardly?”

Ali considered for a moment, knowing Victoria disrespected Charlotte’s boundaries.

“I don’t think so. She doesn’t deserve your time and you don’t owe her anything. You have every right to protect your own peace.”

Approaching from behind, Ali gripped Charlotte’s elbow, pulling her around and into a hug. She froze in Ali’s arms, spine going ramrod straight.

Had she overstepped? Just because Charlotte hugged her one time didn’t mean they were friends who hugged. But her concerns fell quiet as Charlotte sank into the embrace, arms slipping around her waist.

“It’s okay to be anxious. The first time will be the hardest. But just know, you aren’t going in there alone. I have your back.” She patted Charlotte’s back for emphasis. “You can hold my hand as much as you need.”

Tension drained from Charlotte’s form. Hurricane bright eyes seemed calmer when she pulled back, flitting back and forth. Ali felt as though she’d passed through the eye of whatever storm raged only moments ago.

Charlotte’s voice fell soft as snow as it passed her lips. “You’re an incredibly kind person, aren’t you?”

Charlotte made her feel seen. Understood in a way not many took the time to. But she supposed not many were given enough time to get close anymore.