On a Tuesday (One Week 1)

I expected her to say no, but she nodded and put on her coat. She didn’t take my hand, though. She only motioned for me to lead the way.

We stepped onto the trail that led into Central Park and I resisted the urge to pull her against my side.

“Did you watch the Super Bowl?” I asked.

“No. I read about it the next day, though.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure why her saying that cut deep, but I didn’t let it show. “Should I assume that you don’t go to any of the games as well?”

“Yes.” She looked up at me. “Football was one of the other things I started to lose love for over the years.”

Silence.

I stopped in front of a park bench and waited for her to sit down. I brushed off all the hostile words she’d said and faced her. “Are you a professional artist now?”

“I am.”

“Did you ever go to law school?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Because—” She forced a smile. “Because the man I thought I was in love with at the time helped me to see that my heart belonged in art. My art is in all the Rosy-gan cafes.” She continued. “And I own a few art galleries in this city. What about you? Did you ever go into the NFL?” She let out a fake laugh. “I’m kidding.”

“I’m aware.” I was resisting the urge to close the gap between us. "I didn't sleep with anyone for an entire year after you left me, Charlotte.”

Her eyes immediately met mine.

“I didn’t sleep with those models you mentioned either,” I said. “They were staged photo ops. I wanted people to think I was off-limits when I joined the league so I wouldn’t have any distractions. But also—” I mocked her tone. “Because I thought the woman I was in love with at the time was bound to come back to me or sooner or later.”

“She tried to.”

“You never called me once.”

“I called you plenty of times.” Her face turned red. “I called you every day for weeks and you never answered.” She shook her head. “You didn’t answer one time, Grayson.”

“Charlotte, that’s not true." I was confused. "I never got any calls from you."

“I always knew you would say that.” Tears fell down her face. “You’ve probably painted me as a bitch who just disappeared so you could play the sympathy card, huh? I bet doing that made you feel better about all the pain you put me through, and I bet you took pleasure in ignoring all one hundred and seventy-two of my calls and sixty-five of my text messages. Yes, I counted. And yes, seven years later or not, I will never, ever forgive you for that. Never, Grayson.”

She began to cry, leaving me speechless.

I had no idea what calls and texts she was talking about, but I didn’t question her memory. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest.

She didn’t say anything to me for the rest of the day, and when Central Park’s lampposts turned on, I pulled her up and walked her to my car. I didn’t bother peppering her with questions during the short drive, I simply helped up her brownstone’s steps and told her I’d like to see her again next Tuesday. Not a month from now.

“I’ll try,” she said, not looking at me.

It took everything in me not to go inside with her, but I made sure she locked her door and rushed back to my car.

“Call Kyle Stanton, please," I commanded my system once I pulled off onto the street.

“This better be important.” He answered with a groan. “It’s late.”

“I need you to confirm that I’m not crazy.” I switched lanes. “Like, as my best friend, you would’ve told me if I was a long time ago, right?”

“You’re beyond crazy and I did tell you that.” He laughed. “Multiple times.”

"I'm serious, Kyle."

“No, you’re not crazy.” He cleared his throat. “But if this call is about Charlotte Taylor, I’m not drunk enough to deal with that right now. Try me tomorrow night.”

“Something isn’t adding up,” I said. “Charlotte is claiming that she called me for months. And that I was the one ignoring her, not vice versa.”

“Right...So, on a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that you can just let her go at this point?” he asked. “He said vs. she said never ends well for anyone, especially when one person is lying. She’s lying to you, man.”

“She’s not lying.” I knew she wasn’t by the way she’d acted today, and I knew I needed to figure this out before she changed her mind about us meeting again. “Walk me through everything I told you about the end of our senior year again.”

“Right now, Grayson?”

“Right now.”

CHARLOTTE: THEN

Seven years ago

Pittsburgh

SUBJECT: HEY.

Did you forget about our date today?