The Nearest To My Heart -John Lennon Fan Fiction - Paul McCartney Fan Fiction - Beatles Fan Fiction

Chapter Twenty Six - Curtain Call

"I let you in. We'll both regret it," said Charlie, feeling her defenses weaken as she spoke the truth.

John grinned mischievously, sensing that he could push a little harder to get his way. "I'm not really a cripple. It's just an act, like a magician's trick," he explained, leaning forward to demonstrate. He had a habit of exaggerating physical deformities to entertain himself and others.

John raised his hands, twisting his fingers into awkward positions, and contorted his face. Just as swiftly, he straightened up. 

Both John and Charlie were emotionally crippled, but Charlie wanted to believe that John was worse. She had a sinking suspicion that the blame was on her.

She stepped back and allowed him to enter her hotel room. John hadn't expected it to be so easy, and the uncertainty of the moment and the rush it caused had already started to fade.

Charlie moved closer to him, and her smile was too sweet to be genuine. He was reminded of a moment at the Ashers New Year's Eve party when she had put him down in a way that no one else had noticed.

"We'll keep in touch through writing, phone, and visits when possible," she said in a patronizing tone. John knew he was being deceived. "You'll leave your wife then, won't you? If we're going to be together," she stated matter-of-factly.

John didn't like facing the reality of the situation, but Charlie had made it impossible to ignore. As a young man who prided himself on his sharp wit, John was left speechless.

"I never expected it to be more than what it was between us. What did you think would happen? What do you want?" She asked, no longer avoiding the conversation.

John wanted what 'the kids' had. It had been easy for George and Annette to get together, and from his perspective, they hadn't had any problems. He felt silly for wanting that with Charlie. She wouldn't be interested in holding hands and walking through Hyde Park.

What was he even doing there? He had a wife at home, a woman who loved him, but he was consumed with a woman he felt didn't like him. "She loves me," he suddenly stated, not wanting to hurt Charlie but needing to hear it said out loud. He needed it to sink in with him.

"Then why are you here?" It was a valid question, asked genuinely. Charlie assumed that John's wife loved him. For her, their relationship hadn't been that serious. It could have been more, but she hadn't allowed it.

Charlie was grateful that she hadn't. She didn't know what John felt he needed from her, but she did know that whatever he thought he needed, she couldn't give it to him.

"If I wasn't married --"

"But you are," she countered firmly, unwilling to give him false hope.

"If I wasn't married," John repeated himself; he needed to be lied to for his self-worth.

Charlie sighed, growing frustrated with the back and forth. "I don't do hypotheticals."

John sneered, finding her tone dismissive, but more importantly, hurtful. She wouldn't even entertain the idea for a moment and tell him that if circumstances were different, she'd have him.

"You need to go," her voice steady, resistant to feeling bad for a married man who'd carried on with her.

"If I don't?" he smirked, thinking of making himself comfortable. An image of lounging in one of the twin beds and ordering excessive room service entered his mind. It was a juvenile thought that amused him greatly. It wouldn't even be one of the most outlandish things he'd done that day.

"Why would you want to spend your time with someone who doesn't want anything to do with you?" She asked maliciously.

There was a moment of silence; the tension heavy in the room. John stiffened hearing her spiteful words. She'd made it clear to him that, married or not, she wanted nothing to do with him.