Just like the woman standing before me.
But she was there. Therefore, so was I.
“Talk to me,” I pleaded as she sat and motioned for me to do the same.
When I remained on my feet, she sat down and pulled a notepad out of a desk drawer and began writing something down.
“Mr. Reese, Rita told me your son is sick. I took the liberty of calling Patty Rouse to see if she could fit him into their schedule this week.”
Mr. Reese. My stomach sank. “I didn’t ask you out so you’d treat my kid.”
She nodded without looking up and continued writing. “I think you’ll like Dr. Rouse. Her staff is top-notch.”
Positioning myself at the corner of her desk so she couldn’t escape—or avoid me—I repeated, “I didn’t ask you out so you’d treat my kid.”
“He’ll be in good hands.” She finally looked up and smiled, and it was that same fucking smile from her picture in the lobby.
“Don’t do that,” I breathed.
She intertwined her fingers and, like a true professional, rested them on the desk in front of her.
Cold. Passive. Distant.
She was almost gone. I was losing her to the darkness. And it wasn’t one we shared. She wasn’t coming back from this one—at least, not for me.
A blast of adrenaline shot through me. “I was going to tell you about Travis at Antojitos.”
She blinked. “I have patients waiting. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Reese?”
Propping myself on both of my fists on her desk, I leaned in close. “Yes. Stop calling me Mr. Reese and talk to me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t treat children,” she said, void of all emotion. There wasn’t even a flicker of light in her eyes.
Suddenly, frustration roared in my ears. Or maybe it was the same roar of anger that had been screaming inside my head since the day I’d watched Catherine’s car land in that river. Both of my children strapped inside.
The same roar that had been deafening me on a daily basis. Only quieting when I had Hannah secured against my side, Travis on my other side, air flowing through his lungs unhindered.
And, as of a few days ago, the same roar she had unknowingly silenced with nothing more than a simple reminder that other people were merely surviving too.
No questions.
No judgments.
No faking it.
Fuck it.
I refused to let that go.
Her body turned to stone when I moved in close, curled a hand around the back of her neck, and tilted her head so she was forced to give me her eyes.
“I have no fucking idea what’s happening here, but it’s not what you think. Do not shut down on me,” I demanded.
Her gaze locked on mine. “Step away, Mr. Reese.”
“My fucking name is Porter,” I boomed, catching her chair and spinning her to face me.
Her eyes flashed with alarm, but she didn’t respond with anger the way I so desperately needed her to. Words, I could work with. Chilly despondency, I could not.
Resting my hands on the arms of her chair, I sank to a crouch and balanced in front of her on my toes. We were eye to eye, our bodies a foot apart, but a whole world of assumptions and misunderstandings dividing us.
“I’m going to be real honest here, Charlotte.”
“Honesty? From you?” She laughed. “This should be interesting.”
I shook my head. “You’re hurt. I get it. But that doesn’t change my motives. I’m here, right here, right now, for you. Not Travis.”
“Bullshit.” She suddenly rose from the chair, giving me no choice but to move out of her way. With long strides, she began to pace the length of her office, the tail of her white coat floating behind her. “You don’t know me! A few quick internet searches and you had me pegged, huh? The poor, damaged woman you assumed you could swoop in and dazzle with your good looks and ridiculous texts.” She closed her eyes and laughed. “God, I must have looked like such a fucking fool. All that shit about the darkness, and I bought it wholly and completely. Excellent play, Porter. Bravo.” She threw her hands out to the sides before slapping them against her thighs. “Seriously, I’m impressed.”
Rising to my full height, I thundered, “It wasn’t a fucking play! For fuck’s sake, Charlotte, I didn’t look you up on the internet. I just fucking liked you and wanted to have dinner with you. Sue me, my son is sick and I can’t do one goddamn thing to change that except try to get him in with the best doctors that exist. News flash: That’s you. And yes, I’ll admit it, I showed up at the hospital to bring you lunch with every intention of asking you to treat him. But, in true father-of-the-year fashion, I forgot to do it because I was so fucking consumed by you.” Now, I was the one pacing. “You, Charlotte. Not Dr. Mills. You. So say whatever you want. But I swear on my life I have no fucking clue what your deal is.” Putting my palm to my heaving chest, I took a step toward her and lowered my voice. “But I don’t have to know in order to recognize it. The inferno burns inside me too.”
She scoffed and stabbed a finger in my direction. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. We don’t share an inferno, Porter. You wouldn’t last a day in my flames.”
A malevolent snarl lifted my lips as a flash of anger ignited me. She was right; I didn’t know what I was talking about. But neither did she. I’d promised no questions. But she was about to get a whole hell of a lot of answers.
I closed the distance between us. Her eyes widened as she scrambled away, but I didn’t stop until her back hit the wall.
Dropping my elbow to the drywall beside her head, I caged her in with my body.
And then, quick, fast, and to the point, I rained a lifetime of nightmares down on her.
“My wife drove off a bridge with both of my children in the car.”
Her whole body jerked, but I kept going.
“I was in the car behind her and got to witness every single horrifying second. So trust me, Charlotte. I’m a fucking expert at the darkness.”
“It’s not the same,” she whispered defiantly.
“I’m not saying it is. All I’m trying to do is tell you why I’m here. And why I’m not walking out of this office until you believe me.”
After turning her head away, she stared at the blank wall and muttered, “Jesus Christ, say what you need to and then leave.”
Smirking, I trailed my nose up her smooth neck. Stopping at her ear, I whispered, “Oh, you’re coming with me, Charlotte.”
Her body remained stiff even as chills pebbled her skin. “Arrogance isn’t attractive on you.”
I smiled. “Who’s lying now?”
“Talk,” she snapped.
My lips fell immediately. Clearly, I hadn’t thought this through. When she was being dismissive, the truth seemed like the only way to reach her, but now, with her body touching mine, her attitude on full display, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
But, if she thought I didn’t understand her, I needed her to know exactly how wrong she was.
“Travis was eight and my baby girl was five months old at the time…and that car was sinking with my entire life inside.” I paused when the emotion lodged in my throat. “When I got to the car, she was holding Travis.” A wave of nausea threatened to knock me on my ass, but I kept talking. “At first, I thought it was protectively, but she wouldn’t give him to me. He was frantic, kicking and flailing. And she just wouldn’t let him go.”
Her gaze snapped to mine, understanding contorting her face. “I don’t want to hear this.”
I didn’t want to relive it, either. I’d told that story exactly one other time: to the police the day of the accident. But, for reasons I’d never be able to explain, it was important to me that she heard it.
I sucked in a deep breath that I swear never made it to my lungs. “My adrenaline-riddled mind couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. So I grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her and Travis out of the window and then went to work on getting Hannah out of her car seat. By the time I hit the surface, my baby’s lips were blue. I looked around for Catherine and Travis, but they weren’t there, so I had no choice but to pass her off to a stranger who had jumped in after me and went back down in search of them.”