Ch. 9

Braxton Greco

Peter excuses himself saying he's tired, I can see the strain fighting with Charlotte is putting on him. Charlotte doesn't look any better as she watches him leave worried and upset.

"What are you doing today?" I ask, she doesn't respond just stares at the empty doorway. "I'm meeting-"

"He looks awful." She comments, sadly.

"He does." I agree.

"What should I do?" She asks, her eyes earnest.

"I think the question is, What can you do? I don't think theres much to do for him at this point."

She nods, blinking back tears. "I can't lose him, he's all I have."

I clench my jaw tightly, until I can respond without anger. "You have me. I think that's the point of all this."

Tears start streaming down her face and she giggles, surprising me. "He really is the sweetest man. Completely irrational, but sweet, loving and kind."

"He is." I agree, handing her a clean napkin. She dries her face and wipes her eyes. I'm careful in regards to touching her, knowing she can feel uncomfortable around me at times. And if shes feeling vulnerable, now isn't the time, no matter how innocent the touch.

"I'd like to meet with his doctors get some more information." She says, more to herself than to me.

"I don't think thats going to happen." I reply, honestly. "He wants to make decisions about his health by himself."

I can see she doesn't want to accept that and I don't expect her to, but I also know she won't hound Peter about it because he looks so weak and fragile. "Do you work today?" I ask.

"No, I took a leave of absence. I want to take care of him." She answers, distracted by her own thoughts. I'm surprised she would leave her work, it seems to be the only thing she enjoys doing. Honestly, I can't see her doing that for anyone else. Would she do that for me? I study her face, showing what the emotional rollercoaster over the last 24 hours has done to her. Eventually, she'd do that for me.

"You need a distraction." I say, standing up. "Go, take a shower and we'll get out of here"

She looks at me like I lost me mind. "You don't have to work?"

"I do, but it can wait."

"I don't want you to get behind because of me." She states, sounding guilty.

"Then you better hurry." I tease, pulling out her chair. Too stunned she gets up and does as I requested. I ask for a lunch picnic to be made and wait for her at the table, going through countless emails and forwarded documents. When I see her come into the room I stand up, asking if she's ready. She nods uncomfortably, and I shake off the disappointment of her reaction.

Just as I open the door there are shouts and frantic running as I hear, "Call 911!" Charlotte and I race to Peters room.

From the looks of the situation he fell out of bed, or they laid him on the ground. The housekeeper is on the phone with 911 and his Butler Tim is trying to wake him up. Charlotte runs to Peter checking for a pulse and starts administering CPR. She's calm and collected as she keeps working on Peter until the EMT's show up. She stands up, shaking her head, her hair a mess as she watches the scene play out in front of her. The Paramedics get Peter on a stretcher, and start to leave. I see her despair, knowing instantly that he's gone.

Charlotte Henson

    I sit on my bed listening to to clock tick away. I haven't slept for two days straight and now all I feel is hallow. I know I'm here, I just can't seem to connect yet. I haven't cried or let myself feel the loss. Brynn comes in the room and sees me just as she left me earlier. I know shes frustrated, but I just don't care.

"Put this on." She orders, laying a dress next to me. "Your coat is on the chair next to the door." She says, before she walks out.

Today is the day of the funeral. A fatal heart attack took my grandfather. His already weak heart couldn't take the stress of the cancer spreading over his body and it quit. I close my eyes as I start to feel the sadness overwhelm me again. Taking deep breathes I listen to the clock. A soft knock on the door and Keith's voice tells me its time to go. I stand up and put on my long black peacoat before I leave the room.

Braxton takes my arm as I walk into the hall and leads me out the front door to the waiting cars. I slide in the backseat, my movements on autopilot. Braxton gets in on the other side, moments later the car starts to move. He doesn't speak to me and I'm glad. There's nothing to say at the moment anyway. After we get through today maybe I'll be ready to talk, but for now its an impossible task.

The car turns off and the door opens, I climb out standing just outside the door until Braxton takes my arm in his and walks us to the wide front doors of the funeral home. I pull back from him just outside the doors, the air suddenly leaving my lungs. I can't do this, I feel myself start to breathe erratically. Braxton moves us off to the side. When his arms wrap around me, I can't stop the tears. All at once this all became real. I don't want to see, I don't want to know. My knees are weak and shaking, Braxton holds me up as I breakdown. I don't know how long it takes to get inside the funeral home, but as we find our seats, sitting in the front. I stare at the floor refusing to look up.

    By the time I get home I have nothing left, I sit on my bed as Braxton slides off my shoes and unbuttons my coat for me. When he pulls at the sleeves I shift my body, trying to help him so I can be left alone. Once the coat is off I hear his sharp intake of breath. I look up at him momentary, before pulling back the covers and climbing under the sheets. He watches me intently and uses his hand to brush the hair out of my face as I lay on the pillow.

"I'll be across the hall if you need me." He says, bending down to kiss the top of my head before he leaves. I watch him walk to the door, noticing the black dress at the end of the bed. It enters my mind that I was supposed to be wearing that dress, apparently, I didn't.

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