All This Time

37 ⦿ in which i open a door

Coming home that day, I felt reasonably confident that everything would work out with Liza. After spending a harrowing hour explaining why we felt an intervention was necessary, Liza was primped to within an inch of her life by Diana, who showed her how to use concealer, recommended a volumizing shampoo, and then dragged her out to the stores of Fifth Avenue to drastically redefine her wardrobe.

And with the friends and family discount Diana was gracious enough to bestow on us, her services didn't even break the bank. So upon waiting outside my apartment door—Wolfram's door—I'm confused by the fact that I kind of don't want to go inside. I should be happy, right? Job well done, pat on the back, rah rah go team?

Instead, I feel like the princess' lover in the Lady and the Tiger, a short story I had read in high school. It went like this: Accused of the crime of loving the princess and living in a society where he was denied a fair trial, the lover's fate would be decided by chance. With the entire court, the princess, and her father, the king, watching, the lover was given two doors to choose from. Behind one, a beautiful woman he would be forced to marry. Behind the other, a ravenous, man-eating tiger.

If I open this door, what would I find? In this moment, I feel old. Too old. And too young at the same time. At twenty-seven I feel like the last-place runner in a marathon that my peers have already won. Too young for marriage but too old to dance in circles with someone who hasn't yet figured out what he wants. Too old to not know what's going on. And definitely too old to be with someone just because he's sexy and makes me feel something that surpasses anything that any other guy has made me feel.

I feel jerked and jostled, like every step of my journey with Wolf has been me swept along by the tsunami rather than choosing to be part of it of my own volition. And now I'm here, disoriented and woozy, in front of the figurative doors, wondering if one will spell my doom.

I finally insert the key into the lock, twist, and push the door open. It's quiet inside, the lights dim and soft piano notes tinkling like chimes.

"Charlotte?" I hear Wolf call out, and I nod before I remember he can't see me.

"Yeah." I drop my keys onto the counter along with my purse, and sling my jacket over the barstool. "It's me."

I can see him sitting on the couch, glass of amber-colored liquid in his hand, his silhouette looking dark and brooding in the nonexistent lighting. From the kitchen comes the glow of his iPhone, which is playing soft notes of Mozart - soothing background music.

"Why are you in the dark?" Even as I ask, I move to flick on the light.

"Don't."

His one word stops me.

"What's going on?" I ask, tentative. My stomach flutters as I realize what his glass contains - scotch. Taking a stab in the dark—quite literally—I ask, "Did something happen at work?"

"No." He exhales, long and slow. In this light, his eyes are stormy, like the brackish color of the skies during a storm. "I think I've come to a conclusion." He seems to notice that I'm still standing, and adds, "Charlotte, please sit."

When I do so, he nervously jokes, "Don't stand on formality, seriously. I mean, this is your place now, too."

"Yeah," I echo, still not sure how I feel about that.

"You remember, um, what I said last night?" His words are as hesitant as my own.

"Yes."

"Thank you." Wolf clears his throat. "You know, for what you did."

"I didn't do anything." I pause, giving him a thoughtful glance. "Wolf, are you okay?"

"You did," he insists, and even though its dark, there's enough light coming in through the curtains that I can see his fingers clench around his glass.

Faint sirens peal through the air and an explosion of red and blue flies across his face for a split second before the sirens fade away, racing down the street below us.

"Why did you leave?" he asks.

"Staying didn't feel like an option."

"It's your room," he points out.

It doesn't feel like it. I love my room but it feels like it's just a place in his house where I sleep. It doesn't feel like home. It doesn't feel like it's mine. Just like Wolf doesn't feel like he's mine.

"Yeah, I guess I just needed a walk."

"A walk?" He raises his eyebrow, doubtful. "At night? It was pretty late, Charlotte. Not the greatest idea."

"You're not my father," I say, and I'm a little rocked to realize how much irritation is in my tone. What it really sounds like is why the hell do you care?

"No, but I'm your—" He falters, seeing where his whole argument falls apart. "Your fiancé," he finishes weakly.

I remember the feeling of holding him in my arms. My arms feel tired now, like they've been outstretched for him so many years that they ache and need a rest. I need a rest.

"You were in pain." I'm glad for the darkness now, because it lets me say things and feel things that would be impossible if I could see his face. "That's why I stayed." I take a deep breath. "But you're painful, Wolf. Painful to me. Painful for me to be around. And that's why I left."

I can feel the thumps of my own heart beating and the welling urge to apologize, to take it back, to kiss him, all flood through me. I do none of those things, because they would make my earlier words a lie.

And we both know how much Wolfram van der Waals values the truth.

Author's Note: What did you guys think of this chapter? Do you think Charlotte is making the right choice? Are you rooting for them to work things out or do you think their differences are irreconcilable?

POLL (please vote, I would love to know where you stand!):

A) Yes, I think Charlotte made the right decision for herself. Neither she nor Wolf are ready to be together, but I think they will be together in the future.

B) Yes, I think Charlotte made the right decision for herself. I think she needs to be over him once and for all and walk away from marrying him.

C) No, I think she's being too hasty in giving up on him. I think she needs to give her relationship with Wolfram a chance and she should stick to her agreement to marry him because I think it would be out of character for her to renege on a deal.

D) No, I think she's still blaming him for what happened in the Netherlands and she's blindfolded herself to a future with him by clinging on to the past. She's making things harder than they need to be.

E) Some mix of the above or a new opinion entirely?? Please share! :D