Charlotte Henson

I wake up fully dressed and have a splitting headache. I hear a soft knock on the door before it opens, revealing Braxton's unshaven face. Surprised, I sit up way too quickly and grab my aching head. "I thought you might be in rough shape today, here's some Tylenol and a glass of juice." He offers, handing me the glass and the pills.

"Thanks." Is all I can manage to say. What the heck happened last night? I groan trying to get my mind to work. I rub the back on my hands on my eyes when it all flashes back. I asked him how big his penis was!

"I'm so sorry!" I yell, looking up at him.

He looks momentarily confused before a smile splits his face. "I had an amazing time."

I shake my head, "I can't believe what I said." I moan, embarrassed.

He chuckles, "Don't worry about it. Breakfast is ready if you want to eat."

"Is my grandfather still here?"

He nods. "He's waiting for you to join us."

Moving seems like an impossible task but I want to face him, now rather than later. On the way to the dining room I notice his clothes. "Did you stay here last night?"

He nods, "I figured you'd want to confront, Peter. Now you don't have to do it alone."

I'm a little stunned that he'd think of me. I'm not going to lie I could use his support right now. "You didn't need to do that."

He seems to contemplate his response. "Did you want to speak to him alone?"

I shake my head, "Not really. I'm not going to say anything that you couldn't hear, if thats what you're asking."

We walk the rest of the way in silence. Me trying to collect my thoughts and Braxton, letting me.

Entering the elegant dinning room I go directly to my grandfather and kiss his cheek out of habit. Plus, even through all this, I love him. As misguided as his intentions are, he has a heart of gold.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" He asks, amused.

"I time traveled. I literally have no idea how I got home and in bed." I joke.

"I think we can safely say who took care of you." He responds, fondly.

I nod, "Yes. Thank you, Braxton."

"My pleasure." He replies, as we are served our breakfast. My grandfather is old fashioned and keeps a fully staffed house. Chef Gary is one of the best, but should be retiring soon. I move my food around my plate not really hungry after thinking about yesterday.

"I'm mad. What you're doing is wrong." I tell him, not wanting to seem like I'm condoning what he's done by my presence here today.

"I know." He replies, with a smile.

"I still don't understand it. Have I done something that caused this?" I question, hurt.

"Of course not."

"But you don't think I can't take care of myself? I've never asked you for anything, ever. I moved in here because I thought you needed company and someone to look after you, but you do this to me?" I ask, confused and angry.

"You don't understand."

"So, explain it." I beg.

"Its not that I don't trust you to take care of yourself. I just don't want you to end up alone, like me. You have so much to offer and you lock yourself up. I can't have that, I won't have that. Not for you. You're kind, loving and smart but you use your independence as a shield to keep everyone away. You don't see your value and you certainly don't see the need to share your life with anyone." His brutal honesty has me shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"Its my life. And we" I say, pointing at Braxton and I, "Are not marionettes to be played with. What you're doing is not right, you have to see that." I practically yell, feeling all control of my life leaving.

"What I see is inconsequential." He shrugs. "You decided-"

"I decided? You didn't give me a choice!" I yell, in frustration. "

"I gave you and an out! So, the thought of marrying Braxton can't be all that distasteful to you."

"Of course not." I say, hoping that Braxton never took offense to me saying that I don't want to marry him. "He's a decent man, that you trapped in this little scheme of yours." I accuse.

"Trapped." He replies, smiling. "He had choices too." He argues.

"To screw us over. Which he refused to do." I point out.

He raises his glass, "Yes, and that's the kind of man you should marry." He states, looking at me. I drop my fork and sit back in my chair. I should've known, there is literally nothing I could say that would change his mind.

"He cares about this family, about this business and you. Can you honestly tell me that you're happy with the life you're living right now? You're in a rut, you haven't moved past what happened to you."

"That's where you're wrong." I say, with conviction. "It may have been hard for me to move past certain things, but what happened then isn't affecting me now."

"Maybe its not." He agrees, "But why haven't you dated? Why don't you socialize?"

"Because, I don't want to. I don't have much in common with the people I work with, beside our job. And I don't date because I haven't met anyone I like. Unlike you, I want to meet someone naturally and let our relationship unfold organically." I stress.

He scoffs, loudly, "You would close up and retreat the moment you found anyone to care for you. You're scared to let anyone close to you for fear you'll end up hurt. You don't realize that there are no certainties in life but some chances are worth taking. Braxton isn't a risk, that's the best I can do to accommodate your irrational fears."

"You have no idea-"

"I do know! You're me! I understand you perfectly!" He argues.

    I turn to him, really seeing him for the first time. It never occurred to me that I was anything like him, but he's right. I'm as emotionally stunted as he is, never opening up to anyone, always alone, never taking relationships deeper than the surface. Do I really want to die alone? Without ever knowing what it feels like to love or be loved? Am I even capable of loving or trusting someone? The concept of having a loving adult relationship seems impossible, indirectly telling me just how damaged I am.