“And I was a broken prick who broke her heart.”
“Well, those are strong words, but I’ll take them,” she says with a laugh. “I don’t think you’re a prick, Simon. I think you fell truly in love for the first time too, and maybe you didn’t know exactly what to do with it.”
“That’s a simple, and accurate, way to phrase it.”
She nods, and the pain in her eyes is blinding.
“What happened to you, love?”
She just shrugs and smiles through the tears. I have a feeling she’s been doing that for a very long time.
“I’ve had my own hurt. And Charly watched that, too.” She looks up at me now and swallows hard. “Sometimes love is disguised as something evil. Something horrible.”
“Yes. It is.”
“So when you find true love, that makes your heart swell and comforts you, that makes you feel safe and protected, you fight for it, Simon. You fight.”
“She said she needs time to think.”
“Give it to her, but then you go after her and you fight for her. Nothing in this world will be more worth it.”
“I know.” I lean in and kiss her cheek and pull her in for a tight hug. “Thank you, Savannah.”
She nods, wipes her eyes, and stands to leave. When she reaches the door, she looks back at me. “Daddy would have liked you.”
And with that, she walks out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
~Charly~
It’s been a long day. Maybe the longest day of my life. I’ve finally just got home from work, and it’s almost midnight. I didn’t go to Beau’s because I need to think this all through on my own. The one person I would normally go to about these things is gone.
My dad would know what to say. God, how I wish I could talk to him, just one more time.
But I can’t.
I’m exhausted. I spent all day deep in thought. I was so preoccupied that I finally had to call Linda in to help me because I had to ask customers to repeat themselves two, sometimes three times. So I went into the back and spent the day placing new orders, balancing the books, and looking at real estate in Miami to keep my mind occupied.
I undress and flop into bed. I wonder if Simon is asleep, and then shake my head. What does it matter? I’m not going to call him over, and I’m not going to show up at his place. I wanted to ask him to stay so badly this morning. Seeing him, feeling his touch, almost made the last month of agony disappear.
Almost.
I thought about him all day today, and I still don’t know what to do. I want to be with him, but I knew from the beginning that he wasn’t my forever, even though I’d started to hope that I was wrong. He was much more than a Mr. Right Now. And then the way he ended things just hurt so badly, how do I trust that he won’t do it again? He says he won’t, but I don’t trust words. I barely trust actions. But I always believe in patterns, and he jumped to conclusions before.
I don’t know what to do. I yawn again and turn onto my side, enjoying my soft bed after so many nights on Beau’s couch. I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to sleep.
“The fish sure don’t seem to want to bite today.”
“We’re even using the good bait,” I reply and grin at my dad. I really don’t care if the fish bite, I just like being out on the river with him. This is our alone time, when the other kids don’t get to come along. He does this with all of us.
“I guess we won’t have any fish for dinner,” he replies and winks at me. “But that’s okay. It’s a nice day to be on the boat.”
“Yep,” I reply and set my pole in the holder thingie, then stretch my legs out so they can get some sun while I sip on a Coke.
“How are you doing, baby girl?”
“I’m doing just fine,” I reply. “School is hard, but it’s almost summer.”
“Time sure flies,” he says and sets his pole aside as well so he can turn and look at me. He takes a package of peanut butter cups out of the cooler and hands me one, then munches on his. My dad is a big man. Super tall. I think my brothers will probably be tall like him. “Tell me about your Simon.”
And suddenly, I’m not a child anymore. I’m a woman, and the poles are gone. But my dad still looks young and full of life, and my heart bursts with love for him.
“He’s not the one for me,” I reply with a shrug. “I should have known better from the beginning.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it wasn’t love at first sight.”
“So?”
“What do you mean so?” I ask. “You’re the one who always told me to wait for the love at first sight and happily ever after.”
“You were a child, Charlotte,” he replies with a soft smile. “Of course I would say that to a little girl.”
“I was waiting for a love like yours and Mama’s. I wanted the perfect love.”
“Love is never perfect,” he replies and narrows his eyes on me. “Your mother and I loved each other to distraction. I still love her, and while I’m anxious to have her with me again, I’m content to sit in this boat and wait for her to finish what she needs to do with you and the others. But Charly, there was many a day that your mama wanted to beat me over the head with her cast iron pan.”
“You were wonderful together. You never fought.”
He tips his head back and laughs. “Oh, darlin’, of course we did. But we tried not to in front of you kids. Maybe that was a disservice to you.” He rubs his hand over his mouth. “There were some hard years in there, especially when the babies were small and I had to work, or chose to work, more than I should have. We fought a lot, and she threatened to leave me.”