The Determining (24 page)

“I’ve never seen two people look so happy.” She noted the look on his grandfather’s face again and tried to imagine that look on Richard’s face. She couldn’t.

Thayer nodded, putting the photo back on the shelf. “They lived in a very different time. Now, society sees marriage as an institution, not a relationship.” He glanced down at her, his eyes serious. “We don’t get to fall in love.”

The weight of his words made her fidget. “Do your grandparents still live there?”

His eyes lingered on her for a few seconds before returning to the picture. “My family still owns the land, but my father tore down the house when my grandfather died.”

Disappointment filled Charlie at the thought of the house being destroyed. “How could he do that after your grandparents poured so much into it?”

Thayer placed the frame back on the shelf. “He’s never been a sentimental man. A small old farmhouse isn’t his idea of home.”

“What happened to your grandmother?”

“She lives with my parents in the new house. Actually, she helped raise Logan and I.” The memory had that familiar smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What about you?”

“My grandparents?” He nodded. “I never knew them. My father’s parents died years before I was born and my mother doesn’t speak to her family. It’s always just been the three of us.” Memories of holidays spent alone and birthdays forgotten assaulted Charlie.

Thayer turned, studying her when she fell silent. “How are you feeling today?” He abruptly changed the subject.

She didn’t like being reminded of her embarrassment, but tried to shoot him a small, reassuring smile. “Better than last night.”

An awkward silence formed between them. Charlie hated small talk; it made her uncomfortable. She searched her mind for something to say.

“I better go. I have work I’ve been putting off all morning.” She thought she saw disappointment flash across his face. But the expression vanished almost as soon as she noticed it.

“Of course. I’ll be in my office,” he offered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He moved to go, then paused, looking like he wanted to add something.

“Yes?” Charlie prompted.

He hesitated. “Cornelia is in town. She wanted to stop by … .” He trailed off, leaving his question unasked.

Charlie remembered Cornelia’s strange behavior at the coffee shop. She still didn’t know what to make of it, but seeing Cornelia might help her puzzle it out. “When is she coming?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“What happened to laying low until I’m healed?”

“Cornelia is like family,” he evaded.

“So you told her?” Charlie crossed her arms, allowing irritation to play across her face.

His expression was apologetic. “My brother has a big mouth. If you don’t want her to come over, I understand.”

She shrugged. “If she already knows, I see no reason for her to stay away.”

A smile lightened his face. “I’ll let you get to work.” He disappeared before she could say anything else.

She hurried back to her room, intending to start writing her paper. But all productivity escaped her as she sat down at the desk.

Staring at the city beyond her window, her mind wandered. She replayed the conversation with Thayer.
We don’t get to fall in love.
These words in particular bounced around her head over and over. The truth in them bothered her. The more they echoed in her mind, the more she thought of Drew.
He loved me and look what happened.

She might not like having Cornelia see her so beat up, but her presence might provide the distraction she’d been searching for.

At the sound of Cornelia’s arrival the next evening, Charlie emerged from her room and walked down the stairs with caution. The distraction of a visitor was welcome, but she wasn’t sure what to expect. Astonishment struck Charlie when Cornelia came into view. The woman standing next to Thayer bore little resemblance to the woman Charlie remembered from her coming-out.

Rather than leave her gorgeous blonde hair down, Cornelia had pulled it back into a haphazard ponytail. She wore no makeup and sported a pair of chic black glasses. Fitted jeans clung to her hips while a loose sweater hung off one shoulder. Charlie couldn’t believe Cornelia still managed to look stunning in such a normal ensemble.

Cornelia’s smile froze when Charlie appeared. She took in the yellowing bruises and scabbed cuts that marred Charlie’s face, but didn’t comment on them.

“It’s good to see you again, Charlotte.” Cornelia pulled her into a hug. Like she had in the coffee shop, Cornelia kissed her on each cheek.

Charlie took the familiar gesture in stride. “Likewise.” She stepped out of the embrace, putting space between them. Looking between Thayer and Cornelia, she waited for one of them to take over the conversation.

“I’ll get us something to drink. Charlotte, could you show Cornelia to the living room?” Thayer asked.

“Sure.” She led the way as Thayer headed to the kitchen. Cornelia was familiar with the apartment, but Charlie appreciated Thayer’s obvious attempt to make her feel more like the hostess rather than the guest.

Cornelia took a seat on the leather couch. “How are classes going?”

“As well as can be expected. Business isn’t my forte. But I’m sure I’ll grow into it.” Charlie did nothing to mask the skepticism in her voice.

“So the incident at your coming-out was accurate. You don’t agree with your Determining.”

Charlie stiffened. She didn’t know this woman well enough to have such an intimate conversation. “How is your production going?”

Cornelia allowed the topic change. “It’s hard work, but I love every minute of it. That’s actually why I’m in Portestas. The company is performing here for the season.”

Charlie leaned forward, genuinely interested in Cornelia’s job. “What show are you working on now?”

Cornelia picked up on Charlie’s interest and started speaking animatedly. “It’s called
Obedience.
Have you seen it?”

She flashed back to that day, her father’s sneer, the sting of her cheek.
Obedience, Charlotte.
“I’ve never seen anything performed live,” she admitted.

“That’s such a shame. There’s nothing like live theater.” A mischievous grin spread across Cornelia’s face. “You should come. I can get you tickets.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“No imposition at all. Thayer is always in and out of the city for business. It’s the perfect opportunity for a date night.” Cornelia winked, causing a blush to heat Charlie’s cheeks.

“What are you going on about?” Thayer appeared with three bottles of beer balanced in one hand and a bowl of chips and salsa in the other.

“Charlotte’s never seen a live production.” Cornelia accepted a beer from Thayer. “I’m going to reserve you two tickets for the premiere. It’s in a month, will that work?”

“I think I could plan a business trip around that. What do you say, Charlotte?” Thayer asked, handing her a bottle. His eyes searched her face, trying to read her expression.

She’d always wanted to go to the theater, but both Richard and Margaret were too busy to take her. Drew couldn’t afford the exorbitant ticket prices and refused to let her pay. Ruth always went with her family and Charlie never wanted to impose. Now, Cornelia sat there literally handing her the opportunity. Only Thayer made her hesitate to accept.

How did a person make a life with a complete stranger? How did she break past the awkward silences and uncomfortable stares to build a true friendship? She knew she needed to spend more time with him, but, despite all his apparent concern and care, she didn’t fully trust him.

“That sounds wonderful.” She reached out, taking a chip.

The corner of Thayer’s mouth pulled up.

Cornelia clapped her hands. “You will love it. I think it may be my favorite production of this season.”

“What other shows are you performing?” Thayer asked, taking a sip of beer.

With that, Cornelia launched into an in-depth explanation of each of the company’s three productions. As she regaled them with tales of life in the theater, Charlie sat back and observed the scene. Thayer, who’d taken the space next to Charlie on the couch, listened politely, but kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye. If Cornelia noticed, she didn’t let on. Her gaze bounced between Charlie and Thayer, but lingered on Charlie.

Cornelia and Thayer were completely comfortable with one another. But something felt off. Both seemed too intent on her, to the point that their attention made her squirm. Charlie couldn’t begin to guess why she seemed so fascinating. She fiddled with her ring nervously.

“It sounds like the season will be busy.” Thayer spoke when Cornelia paused to take a breath. His voice broke into Charlie’s thoughts, pulling her back to the conversation.

Cornelia nodded. “It will, but I’m looking forward to spending time here in the city. I don’t get to come back as often as I’d like. Being here for the season will give me the opportunity to catch up with a few close friends. And maybe make a few new ones while I’m at it.” She smiled confidently in Charlie’s direction.

The conversation ebbed and flowed for the rest of the night. By the time Cornelia declared she needed to leave or risk falling asleep during morning rehearsals, Charlie felt like she and Cornelia might become friends. The end of her friendship with Ruth had left an emptiness inside her that ached whenever Charlie thought of her old friend. Knowing Cornelia could potentially fill that void felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I have a few hours to myself later next week. Do you mind if I stop by again?” Cornelia asked, pulling on her bright red peacoat.

“You know you can come over anytime.” Thayer glanced at Charlie, who nodded in agreement.

“Great. I’ll see you later, then.” Cornelia leaned in toward Thayer, giving him a friendly hug.

“Thanks for coming, Nelia.” Thayer kissed her on the cheek.

Cornelia turned to Charlie, wrapping her in a tight squeeze that made Charlie’s ribs ache in protest. “I had a great time.”

“Me, too.” Charlie patted her back awkwardly. “We’ll see you soon.”

They exchanged a goodbye and Cornelia left. In her absence, silence echoed through the apartment.

He leaned back against the door, studying Charlie. “Did you really have a good time?” he asked her, a serious look on his face.

“Cornelia is a little more … passionate than I’m used to, but yes, I did,” she admitted.

The tension in his face faded a little. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t read you.” He declared, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh?” Charlie said, surprised.

“Your expressions are so subtle. Watching you react to Cornelia, I couldn’t begin to guess what you were thinking.” His eyes wandered over her, concentration pulling his brows together.

“I can’t read you either,” she admitted in a whisper.

“I guess we both have to learn.” His face remained serious but his eyes sparkled.

“I guess so.”

The night after Cornelia’s visit, Charlie woke with a start. She tried to slow her breathing.
It’s just a dream. It’s not real.
Despite the effort, her pulse continued to race.

The images penetrated her mind whenever she closed her eyes, always the same as that first awful night. Only four days had passed since the nightmares started, but it felt like weeks. Luckily, she hadn’t woken to the sensation of blood running down her throat, but the illusion of choking still ripped her from the nightmare every time. The persistent dreams frayed her nerves, making her skittish.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. A little past midnight. Sighing, she flung the blankets off and shuffled to the bathroom. In the mirror, she examined the puffy skin under her tired eyes with irritation. Though she healed a little more with each passing day, dark circles under her eyes had replaced the deep purple bruises.

Charlie knew she wasn’t a great beauty, but she missed the way she used to look. It felt like ages since her skin had been unmarked by cuts or bruises. The memory of her father’s fists connecting with her face made her cringe. But then she thought of Mr. Ross’ interference.
I hope Richard is still aching from that day, too.

Leaving the bathroom, she gazed back to the bed. The soft pillow and warm sheets called to her, but she wouldn’t lie back down. Not when the nightmares lurked behind her eyelids, ready to torment her. Lamenting another sleepless night, she trudged out of the room in search of caffeine.

The light over the stove bathed the kitchen in a soft, warm glow. Charlie walked straight to the coffee pot. It sat clean and empty. She mentally thanked Thayer for teaching her how to work the machine. With a fresh pot brewing, she leaned against the counter and waited for the delicious liquid energy.

“Can’t sleep?”

Charlie jumped and whirled around. It took her a moment to spot Thayer seated at the counter. Like the night he’d burst into her room, he wore only a pair of plaid pajama pants.

“No, you?” She waited for her heart to stop pounding.

“I haven’t gone to bed yet.” He tilted his head. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Behind her, the coffee pot gave a final sputter. She grabbed a clean mug and filled it to the top. After almost a week in the apartment, Charlie had grown used to Thayer’s presence. Sitting with him over a cup of coffee had become a morning routine. They never exchanged more than a few words, but as the days wore on, the silence transitioned from uncomfortable to amiable. It might not be morning, but she took her mug and settled into her usual stool anyway.

Charlie didn’t think she had the energy to hold any sort of conversation, so she just sipped from her mug. When it sat empty, she leaned her head against her hands and closed her eyes. She knew the gesture would beg Thayer to ask her if she was okay, but she didn’t have the energy to care if she appeared weak or not. Despite the caffeine she’d just consumed, sleep pressed in around her. It threatened to pull her back into the nightmare.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he stated.

She shrugged. Her heavy eyelids stayed closed. “You could say that.”