In the Stars

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Someone Like You

Charlotte sat at the window in the bedroom. The sun had risen ten minutes earlier, bathing the bedroom in peach-gold light. She watched as this light crept up the walls, stealing the darkness as it went.

Owen hadn't come back. She had no idea where he was. If someone wanted to knock down her door, she had no way to stop them. She never felt more alone.

Yet, she held this feeling close. It was reliable. It clung to her with assurance. Anything else was too fleeting to trust.

Could he really love me? The thought did not fail to amaze her.

Ethan had chosen a job over her. They'd had something so special, so pure and true in her eyes, and he'd given it up in a heartbeat. It was hard to believe something so remarkable could survive after that.

What she felt for Owen was immense. It felt heavy in her chest, but the weight kept her there, grounded and whole. She couldn't say she'd felt more sure of anything else.

Would she let him give up his eternity for her? No matter what she felt for him, she wasn't sure she could live with herself if he got hurt. Or worse.

She shook her head at the thought. There was no way. No way.

Outside on the street, a couple people walked down the sidewalk. Each one had a purposeful walk, like they knew where they were going. They were dressed for work: two in suits, one in a uniform. Charlotte missed the monotony of a weekday.

Would they be able to continue? Was this too big to surmount? Maybe she should let James take over.

Just then, she heard a sound at the front door. Her heart leaped in her chest. Pulling her silk robe around her body, she moved into the sitting room.

As the door handle turned, she debated whether to pick up the iron candlestick from the side table. When Owen came through the door, she breathed a sigh of relief. No need to pull out her defense class moves.

Then she remembered why he was coming in so early, with a determined look on his face. His eyes were slightly blood-shot. A shadow of facial hair dusted his cheeks, giving him an air of indifference.

She gulped around a lump in her throat.

"Where have you been?"

He met her eyes for a second before looking out the window. "I was out. Obviously."

Irritation barked at her. She closed her eyes, counted to five. "I was worried."

"You were fine. I made sure to charm the rooms."

"That's not what I meant." She opened her eyes now, focused on his.

They were scared. It was clear as day. He had laid his heart out- maybe for the first time- and she had stomped on it. Her heart twisted in anguish.

"I, uh...," she fumbled for words, looked down as she tied her sash tighter, "I was worried about you."

"Why?"

She forced her eyes back up. His posture was suspenseful, on tenterhooks. The tension in his muscles was like a hum in the air.

Fight or flee.