Charlotte looked shocked for a brief moment, but then her knowing eyes roamed over my face as silence settled between us. "But it's not just as you planned, is it? Nothing is as you planned. And that scares you very, very much." Charlotte approached me and reached out her hand. I took it and she squeezed mine between both of her own, the comforting scent of her—baked goods and talcum powder—causing my breathing to calm. "Ah, my boy, you've fallen very hard, haven't you?"
"Fallen?" I took my hand from Charlotte's. "Fallen where?"
Charlotte smiled gently at me. "In love of course. With Kira. With your wife."
I swallowed heavily and turned toward the window. "I'm not in love with Kira," I insisted, but the words felt flimsy, as if they didn't hold any weight and might simply float away.
Charlotte sighed. "For the love of all things holy, you're both so stubborn. You two probably deserve no less than to be shackled to each other for life. It's a wonder watching you together hasn't driven me to drink."
I snorted. I was not in love with the little witch. Was I? No, I couldn't be—my emotions for her were too turbulent, too out of control, too . . . terrifying. Maybe I was obsessed with her, enchanted, beguiled. But love? No, not love. "She makes me crazy," I said, turning back to Charlotte. "When we're together, we act like out-of-control children half the time." And the other times like desperate lovers, unable to keep our hands off each other . . .
Charlotte made a clicking sound in the back of her mouth and nodded her head. "We should all be children when it comes to love—open and vulnerable." She paused. "I don't know everything there is to know about Kira's past, but I know you have good reason to guard your heart. And good reason to want to choose someone who doesn't inspire such passion, such intensity, and such fear. But, Gray, those feelings mean you love her. And for those who have been hurt as you've been, and as I suspect Kira's been too, true love is a scary prospect. True love is the greatest leap of faith there is."
I ran my hand through my hair. This was all too much and I didn't even know where to start, what to focus on. I was all twisted up inside, angry with Kira one minute, wanting her desperately the next . . .
"I think a good place to start," Charlotte said as if reading my mind, "is to talk to your brother and Vanessa. And listen to them, not with your hurt, but with your heart." She grasped my hand again. "And bear this in mind; love is not always smooth and easy. Love can be piercing. Love means exposing yourself—all of yourself, every tender part—to being hurt. Because true love is not only the flower, true love is also the thorns."
"Right," I said. "Sharp and painful."
Charlotte's laugh was a warm tinkling sound, like bells in a cathedral. She squeezed my hand tightly. "Sharp, yes, piercing yes. But not always painful. It's meant to strip you bare in order to heal. Be brave enough not to fight it. Surrender, my boy. Let go. For just once, have the courage to let go." She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek and I bent slightly to let her. Then she smiled warmly, turned and left my room.
Love is not always smooth and easy. Was that why I had chosen Vanessa once upon a time? Because my feelings for her were lukewarm? As soon as I posed the question to myself, I knew in my heart the answer was yes. Shane and I had grown up with Vanessa. She'd always been a friend—beautiful and sweet—and I’d noticed the way Shane had looked at her and the way she’d looked back at him, hoping he'd make a move. Neither one realized the other had feelings for them. But I knew, and I asked Vanessa out anyway, knowing Shane would step back for me. Shame filled my heart and I looked down.
I'd wanted her because I’d felt perfectly in control of my feelings where she was concerned and that sort of calm, that lack of risk, the absence of thorns, was something I craved after the deep hurt I'd experienced growing up. After the humiliating grasping for love never returned, the loneliness of hoping for joy. I didn't want to grasp anymore. I didn't care to hope any longer. It hurt too much. And so I chose someone who didn't inspire any of that in me. Vanessa had been too sweet to say no. And somewhere inside, I'd felt a certain satisfaction taking something I knew rightfully belonged to Shane. I'd given all my life, made sure he never suffered the way I'd had to. I’d deserved to step ahead of him where Vanessa had been concerned. Jesus. He was my brother and I'd betrayed him—even if he didn't know it. And I hadn't even thought of her either. Would my tepid feelings have ever been enough for her in the long run? Of course not. I had been wandering into a permanent state of cold detachment, and it was only Kira who had been able to beckon me back with her warmth and exuberance. Vanessa and I would have never made each other happy. I'd told myself there was never a need to confide my secrets to her because she knew my family dynamics, but the truth was, I hadn't wanted to. I'd never wanted to share all of myself with her and so I never had. And if I'd loved her, it had only been as a . . . friend.
She'd told me she wanted to save herself for marriage, and after all the women I'd already been with by the time we started dating, that had seemed right. That I should wait for my wife. Likely, she'd been saving herself for Shane more so than marriage—whether she’d realized it at the time or not. But now . . . thank God I'd never made love to my brother's wife. The things we had done suddenly felt incestuous and one hundred percent unappealing.