Summary: MC (Charlotte) gets a surprise visitor after she returns home to Boston.
A couple weeks after leaving Hull, Charlotte lay on her couch in the apartment she shared with her sister, absentmindedly watching Food Network. Was it just her or was the network slowly being taken over by Guy Fieri? It wasn’t that she necessarily disliked him, but every time she turned on the TV it seemed like there was another marathon of his shows. Was it too much to ask that Food Network air more Choppedmarathons? Mostly because Charlotte wanted to watch more of Scott Conant.
When her phone rang, Charlotte lazily groped for it on the coffee table.
“Hello, my illustrious editor,” Charlotte said.
“How are you?” he asked
“Fine,” Charlotte said, her face partially smushed against the pillow.
“Are you watching Food Network again?”
“Maybe.”
“Why? All they do is show endless Guy Fieri shows now.”
“I’m hanging on in the vain hope they break up the programming with an episode of Chopped.”
“Ah, yes. I love Ted Allen,” Zack said. “Anyway, I called to talk to you about your book.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I finished it this morning.” Zack paused.
“And?”
He sighed. “Charlotte, you can’t end the book like that.”
“Why not?” Charlotte asked, pushing herself up to a sitting position.
“It’s depressing.”
“Ava is choosing to be on her own, that’s not depressing,” Charlotte argued. “Being single isn’t a tragedy.”
“I know it isn’t,” Zack said. “But the publishers want a happily ever after.”
“Life doesn’t always have happily ever after.”
Zack sighed again. Charlotte wondered on average how often he sighed during a single phone call with her. “Charlotte, I’m on your side here. But the higher ups don’t want to publish it with this ending.”
This time, it was Charlotte’s turn to sigh.
“Look, you’re a talented writer, and this is where your skill comes into play,” Zack continued. “Just have Ana pick one of them.” When Charlotte didn’t say anything, his voice softened. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now and I really don’t want to be the one to harass you. Frankly, I’d rather be on the couch with you, watching Food Network while we eat a bunch of junk food and judge the contestants when they try to use the ice cream machine with only two minutes left on the clock.”
“Why do they always do that?”
“Because they’re stupid.”
Just then, there was a knock on the front door.
“Someone just knocked at my door,” Charlotte said, confused.
“Did you order food?”
“No,” Charlotte said as she hauled herself off the couch. “Kaitlyn probably just forgot her keys again.”
“We should buy her one of those janitor key rings that attaches to her belt for Christmas.”
“Agreed,” Charlotte said as she headed for the door. She turned the lock and opened the door, but instead of Kaitlyn, there was someone else standing on the other side. Charlotte stared in disbelief.
“Charlotte?” Zack asked through the phone. “Was it Kaitlyn or are you about to be murdered? Or both?”
“Hey,” Zig said as he pushed his hands into his jean pockets.
“Zack, I have to call you back,” Charlotte said into the phone, still staring at Zig.
“Do I need to call the cops?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll call you later.” She hung up over Zack’s protestations.
“What are you doing here?” Charlotte finally asked.
“You didn’t say goodbye,” Zig said simply.
“I …” Charlotte coughed. “I couldn’t find you so I wrote you a letter.”
Zig reached into his back pocket and pulled out the letter, the papers worn from having been read over and over and over again. Charlotte felt like she was having an out of body experience as she stared at him. It didn’t seem real that he was standing there on her front porch, her confession letter in his hand.
“So … can I come in?”
“Yes, god, sorry,” Charlotte said, stepping aside to let him in. She led him into the apartment’s small kitchen and gestured for him to take a seat at the table. “Do you want anything to drink? We have water or …” Charlotte opened the fridge. “Water.”
“I’m okay, thanks.” Zig said as he sat down and set the letter on the table. Charlotte sat across from him and leaned her elbows onto the table, crossing her arms. They were quiet for a moment before a thought occurred to her.
“How did you know where I live?” she asked. “I didn’t write it in the letter, did I?”
“Your sister didn’t tell you?” he asked slowly.
“Didn’t my sister tell me what?”
“After I read your letter and realized you were gone, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me so I found your sister on Facespace and sent her a message. She said it would be okay if I came down here so she gave me your address. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to figure out my shifts at work first.”
God dammit, Kaitlyn, Charlotte thought as she sat back in her chair.
“… is it okay that I’m here?” Zig asked.
“Yes, of course,” Charlotte quickly reassured him. “Kaitlyn didn’t say anything to me so I’m just surprised.” She leaned forward again and carefully picked up the folded notebook pages. “So, you read my letter.” Zig nodded. “I wouldn’t have expected you to show up after reading that.”
“Why?”
Charlotte was about to reply when she heard a key in the front door. They both turned to watch as Kaitlyn burst through the door, barely holding onto multiple grocery bags.
“Made it one trip!” she announced triumphantly as she dropped the bags in a heap on the counters. “Hey, Zig! Totally forgot you were coming today, but good timing getting here on grocery day.”
“Yes, I think you also forgot to mention that Zig was arriving at all,” Charlotte said, narrowing her eyes at her twin.
“Did I?” Kaitlyn asked innocently as she began to unpack the bags. “Huh. My bad.”
Charlotte desperately wanted to throw something at her sister, but the only thing she had at hand was the letter. Plus, with Zig there, that meant there’d be a witness.
“Come on,” Charlotte said to Zig as she stood up. She motioned for him to follow her to her bedroom.
“I have a gig tonight and then I’m staying at Annisa’s,” Kaitlyn called after them. “Just FYI!”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “God, I wish I was an only child,” she muttered as she led Zig into her room. She closed the door behind them and gestured for him to sit down on her bed.
“Do you mind if I take off my shoes?” Zig asked. “I don’t want to put my shoes on your sheets.”
Charlotte nodded and Zig kicked off his Converse before sitting on her bed, crossing his legs.
“I forgot how good your posture is,” she said as she sat down, leaning back against her pillows.
“One of the last holdouts from my dancing days,” Zig said. The conversation faltered there and they fell into silence again. Charlotte fingered the hem of her shirt, running her nail along the underside of the stitching. When she looked up, she saw Zig watching her.
“Why are you here?” Charlotte asked quietly. She was pretty sure he hadn’t come to yell at her because four hours was a long time to drive just to shout at someone. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why else he would have come to Boston.
“Because I read your letter,” Zig said.
“I would think that would tell you all the reasons why you shouldn’t have come.”
“The opposite, actually.”
Charlotte felt herself squirm slightly under his direct eye contact, but she said nothing.
“Charlotte,” Zig said, “I don’t know what you expected me to think when I read your letter, but I’m not mad at you or anything like that.”
“You’re not?”
“No. Do I love that you were being jerked around by your married ex-boyfriend for over a year? Not really, but I’m not mad at you.”
“You don’t think I’m a total garbage person for getting involved with someone who was engaged? Because I do.”
“No, I don’t,” Zig said. “And you’re not a garbage person. You’re just a person who’s been through a lot.”
“I unnecessarily created all those problems for myself.”
“So does everyone,” Zig said with a shrug. “I don’t know, it seems like you want me to be mad at you for this, but I’m not.”
“But why?” Charlotte asked, sitting up from the pillows. “Why aren’t you completely disgusted with me?”
“Because I’m not as hard on you as you are on yourself.”
Tears sprang to Charlotte’s eyes and she looked away from his gaze, staring down at the bedspread.
“Hey,” Zig said softly as he took her hands in his. “It’s not like I was happy when I first read your letter, but then I read it again. It’s clear you’ve been beating yourself up over this for a long time and I don’t want to add to that pain.”
Charlotte sniffed. “Like time served?”
Zig laughed. “Exactly.” He scooted closer to her on the bed and took her face in his hands. “Hey, look at me.” She did and Zig gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “You’re human. It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “Good, I can’t have my good reputation ruined like that.”
Zig smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips brushing against the trail her tears had left, before he sat back in his spot.
“How long are you here for?” Charlotte asked with a sniff, trying to compose herself.
Zig shrugged. “Depends. I have the next few days off of work so I could theoretically stay here until then. Or, if you hadn’t let me in today, I would’ve gone back today.”
“I see,” Charlotte said. “Where are you staying?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Ah, there’s the catch,” Zig said. “I don’t exactly have a hotel reservation yet.”
“I mean … I guess you could stay here,” Charlotte said. “If you wanted to.”
“I dunno …” Zig teased. “I hear a garbage person lives here.” Charlotte hit him with one of her pillows and he laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Uh huh,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup,” Zig said. “Can I take you out tonight to Kaitlyn’s show?”
“Sure,” Charlotte said. “But that doesn’t start for several more hours.”
“I know I just showed up out of the blue so if you have stuff you need to do until then, I can keep myself entertained,” Zig said.
“I was just watching TV, but if you want to head out and check out the city we can do that instead.”
Zig shrugged. “Honestly, if we’re going out tonight to the show, I’m actually good with relaxing here for a bit. I’m kind of tired after the drive.”
Charlotte led him back to the living room where the TV was still playing the endless Guy Fieri marathon.
“Sweet, I love Food Network,” Zig said as he sat down. “I mean, I’m not that into Guy Fieri, but he’s watchable.”
Charlotte sat down beside him and he put a hand on her knee, squeezing it gently.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
“Me, too.”
Zig turned his attention to the TV as Charlotte picked up her phone to find several frantic text messages from Zack.
CHARLOTTE. ARE YOU DEAD. CALL ME.
WHAT IS HAPPENING
SERIOUSLY, WAS THAT CODE TO CALL THE COPS
Charlotte smiled and texted him back.
Zig showed up on my doorstep, no need for the cops
A few seconds later, a new text arrived.
OMG YES. Call me later and tell me everything
Charlotte put down her phone and tried to focus on the TV, but her mind kept drifting back to another text she’d received a few days ago, one she hadn’t been able to respond to yet.
Charlotte, please call me. I really want to talk to you about what happened. I didn’t really want to tell you this over text but I think I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you. If you’re done and want to move on, I’ll respect that. I just wanted you to know.
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