As Miss Glass ushered the girls back toward the house, their little voices receding as they walked, Nathanial stepped toward Charlaine, his legs carrying him up the small slope.
His gaze swept over her as he approached, noting the same strength and vivaciousness in her dark eyes he knew well. Still, there was something different about her. Something tense in the way her chest rose and fell, her breathing slightly faster than he would have expected. She seemed vulnerable somehow for her gaze would move from his every so often as though wishing to hide something she did not want him to know.
Indeed, it would seem the day at the lake had changed how she saw him. Although she did not appear angry at all, the simple ease that had always been between them had grown into something far more complicated. Unspoken words hung between them, and Nathanial wondered if they would ever make it back to the friendship that had all but given him back his life.
“I see you’ve returned,” Charlaine greeted him with a bit of a hesitant smile as he came to stand in front of her.
Nathanial nodded. “I have.” His gaze swept over her features, warmth and longing filling his chest at the mere sight of her as though years had passed since he had last been able to do so. “Will you yell at me then?”
A small smile teased her lips. “I do not believe it necessary for you appear to have learned your lesson. Or am I wrong?”
“You’re not.” In truth, Nathanial could not say what lesson he had learned. All he knew was that he would never again dare risk what they had. He needed her as much as his next breath. He needed those dark eyes looking into his own. He needed that light laughter of hers tickling his ears. He needed her warmth and kindness, her frankness as well as her courage.
Indeed, the world was a darker place without her.
As though to agree with him, the clouds overhead parted in that moment, allowing a ray of sunshine to pass through, its soft light glittering in Charlaine’s raven-black hair.
She was radiant, and Nathanial felt the sudden urge to reach for her, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her as he had before.
That day at the lake.
“Is something wrong?” Charlaine asked, her dark eyes searching his as she stepped closer. “You look…out of sorts.”
A sarcastic chuckle rumbled in his throat. “I admit our time apart was most trying for me. I missed you terribly.” There! He had said it! He had spoken the truth. If only he dared be more explicit.
For a long moment, Charlaine looked at him before her lips suddenly pressed together and she blinked her eyes rapidly as though trying to fight off tears. “I missed you as well,” she whispered hesitantly, but then moved closer, her arms snaking around his neck as her head came to rest upon his shoulder.
Nathanial stilled, overwhelmed to feel her lean into him. He was even more surprised when she did not pull away, but remained where she was, one hand coming to rest over his own thundering heart while the other slipped down the side of his neck, the tips of her fingers no more than a feathery touch upon his skin.
His chin came to rest on the top of her head as though they had been made for each other, and he could feel her breathe in deeply, her chest rising and falling in tandem with his own. She felt warm and soft as she had that day by the lake.
Nathanial’s arms folded over her, holding her close, as the memory of her lips upon his, vivid and tempting, resurfaced. Oh, dear God, he wanted to kiss her!
Charlaine would not want him to, though, for they were friends and nothing more. Nathanial would simply have to make his peace with it. Cherish what he had, and not long for something unattainable.
Still, the thought of such an imbalance in their relationship gave him pause. Could he be her friend when, in truth, he wished for more than that? Would it not be torture to pretend? Dishonest as well? However, the thought of losing her from his life cut deep and was one Nathanial could not bring himself to contemplate.
Perhaps it would be better like this.
After all, was a friendship not more permanent in nature? Friends were not tied to each other by a contract. They could be lost, that threat looming overhead at all times. Was that why friendships were rarely taken for granted? Why one cherished them more?
With Abigail, everything had gone wrong after they had moved beyond their initial friendship. After Nathanial had proposed, she had felt trapped. Had it simply been because of her father? Because she had felt pressured into a life without choice?
In the end, it did not matter. Charlaine saw him as a friend, and Nathanial knew he would not risk losing what they had. He loved that she spoke without restraint, that she shared all that lived in her heart, that she told him when he was being a fool or when she found him utterly irritating. He also loved that he could do the same and, at the end of the day, they would still laugh together and know that there was another who understood.
That was friendship.
It would be enough.
“Are you well?” Nathanial asked as he forced his arms to loosen their hold on her.
Her head rose and she looked up at him, her face still temptingly close. “I am,” she whispered and her gaze held his in a way that made him wish he was a man who could be reckless, who dared to risk it all, who would throw caution to the wind and act on impulse.
But he was not.
Gritting his teeth, Nathanial took a step back, his hands falling away. “You look…a bit out of sorts as well,” he observed, almost desperate to change the topic.
Charlaine’s gaze narrowed before she lifted a finger, pointing it at him. “That muscle in your jaw is twitching again,” she remarked. “It only ever does that when I tease you or when you’re upset with me or…” Her voice rose, demanding an answer.
Nathanial knew why it was twitching. But he could not share his inner turmoil with her. This was something she could never know. “A lot has happened,” he said instead, then took a deep breath. “Abigail is here.”
Her gaze fell from his before her eyes rose again. “Your fiancée?”
Nathanial tensed. “She was my fiancée.”
“She is not anymore?” Her arms crossed over her chest. “Or again?”
Nathanial frowned. “What do you mean?”
Shaking her head, Charlaine straightened. “What brings her here then?”
“She came to apologize for all that happened,” Nathanial told her, still surprised by this curious turn of events. “I never would have expected her to, but I suppose I knew her less than I thought I did.”
“You accepted her apology?”
Nathanial nodded. “I did. Nothing good comes from holding on to past grievances. I know that now.” He smiled at her. “You taught me that.” A deep sigh left his lips. “You taught me something else as well.”
Her features softened, and she stepped closer, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. “Walk with me.” They proceeded a few steps down the slope before she looked up at him again. “What did I teach you? How to dance?” She grinned. “No, that was you. How to walk barefoot?” A frown creased her forehead. “I’m not certain it should be considered a skill, but—”
“How to be a friend,” Nathanial replied, seeking her gaze. “You stood with me when I needed you even though there was no reason for you to do so. You saw that I needed someone and you helped me because you could.” His hand closed over hers. “You’re a good person, and the world is a better place because of you.”