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When he woke up, Nick was already gone. Charlie groaned and put an arm over his eyes. Last night had been exhausting. And painful. And confusing.
He groaned again and removed his arm from his eyes to grab his alarm clock, bringing it in front of his eyes. It was 8 a.m. Charlie blinked in surprise. He must have been really exhausted. Normally he would be awake as soon as Nick’s alarm went off, if not sooner. He couldn’t believe that he had slept through Nick getting ready for school.
He placed the alarm clock back on the bedside table. Then he just stared at the ceiling.
What the hell had happened last night? They weren’t strangers when it came to hurting each other, but the confusion and heartbreak of last night had been on a whole new level. Charlie’s eyes filled with tears when he remembered Nick crouching down on the floor like a wounded animal that had just received the final, lethal blow.
I knew it was me.
Charlie pressed his eyes shut. He was still so angry. Angry that Nick hadn’t told him, hadn’t trusted him. Had condemned him to years of self doubt, of agony and guilt, just because he didn’t have the guts to tell him.
And the worst thing was, Charlie completely understood.
He understood the hurt and the confusion. He understood the fear and the reluctance. And he most certainly understood the self doubt.
What he didn’t want to understand, though, was the lack of trust Nick had shown him. And that was exactly why he could not let go of his own anger, his own hurt and confusion.
He sighed deeply and finally heaved himself from the bed that held so many wonderful and heartbreaking memories.
Sorry, I’m really tired.
Sorry, I’m just not in the mood.
I promise, it has nothing to do with you.
How many times had Nick flat out lied to him? How many times had he proven that he no longer trusted Charlie to be a part of his life, to hold him in good times and in bad times, as they both had promised each other so long ago on a far away beach, the beautiful sunset behind them?
Tears started forming in his eyes. He brushed them away impatiently as he threw on some clothes and headed down to make himself some breakfast.
It would have to be seen if he would be able to eat it.
When he entered the kitchen, the first thing he saw was his travel mug on the kitchen table. Leaning against it was a small piece of paper, a note of some sort.
A sob escaped Charlie’s lips.
How often had they left each other notes with confessions of love, playful banter or just funny one liners?
When had that become a lie? Had it perhaps always been a lie?
The memories fueled his anger again, and he was just about to toss the note unread into the bin. Just like Nick had thrown their life into the bin. But in the furthest back of Charlie’s mind there was still this voice. This hated voice that reminded him again and again against his will that he had thrown it in the bin, too.
He wasn’t innocent in this.
Neither was Nick.
If they were both guilty, could they perhaps find a way to make amends together?
Slowly he stepped over to the table and with trembling fingers reached for the note that was written in Nick’s familiar, elegant writing.
Charlie,
I left some coffee for you in your travel mug, I thought you might need one. I spoke to Tara and Darcy, and I can stay with them tonight if you would prefer that. Just let me know.
I’m sorry.
Nick
Charlie breathed heavily as he read the words over and over again.
Apart from everything else, when had they unlearned how to talk to each other?
He sat in front of his still untouched toast. Untouched was not completely correct. He had broken it into smaller and smaller pieces, trying to get himself to eat. But it hadn’t worked so far. He was already on his second coffee, but he couldn’t get himself to eat even a tiny bit of toast. He sighed deeply. His thoughts returned to last night.
Where was your trust in me when you hid your relapse from me?
Trust, however, wasn’t the issue, at least not on that front. Charlie knew, as he had always known, that he could trust Nick completely when it came to his mental health struggles.
Then why didn’t you tell him?
Charlie sighed deeply and pushed the plate away from him. The toast would have to wait. Again.
He stared at it with burning eyes, and slowly the tears came.
He knew he should think about that question, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that right now. He was scared of the answer that he already half knew.
Instead, his mind returned to another question: Why didn’t you tell me? His eyes found the note again, lying there beside his plate with his unfinished toast, waiting patiently for Charlie to act.
But what could he do?
What was he supposed to do with all this mess they were in, all these feelings that made his head spin?
Still, the note waited. And Charlie took out his phone. No matter how mad he was at Nick, he knew it would drive Nick insane if he didn’t hear from Charlie at all.
Hey
Come home. We need to talk.
When Nick got home, he found Charlie in the living room, intently reading something on his phone.
Careful, as if he was scared to mess up the apparent truce between them, he crossed the room and sat down in an armchair.
Charlie didn’t look up, he just kept on reading.
“So,” Nick said tentatively.
“‘Connect to your partner.’” Charlie read aloud.
Nick was startled. “What?”
“Says here. ‘Do not retreat into silence’. But that’s exactly what you did.”
“I know,” Nick admitted flatly. “I …”
Charlie looked up and studied Nick for a while.
“So, you’re reading up on it?” Nick asked.
“Of course I am.”
“Is it helping?”
“Yeah. Did you? I mean, research is kind of your thing, always was.”
Nick sighed and looked devastated. “Of course I did. But I didn’t think what I learned applied to me.”
“Hmmm,” Charlie mused, then went back to his reading. “Apparently it’s more common than you’d think. And every page says that it is no one’s fault.”
Nick snorted. “Yeah, I read that.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I have the feeling it’s got to be my fault somehow.”
“Why?”
“Well, if it’s not, then …”
“It would be my fault?”
Nick didn’t reply to that, just looked at Charlie with red brimmed eyes and nodded.
Charlie sighed. “You didn’t want to put the blame on me, so you took the whole blame on yourself - just like you always do,” he said flatly.
“Charlie …,” Nick said imploringly.
Charlie jumped up. “No! It’s what you always do! Don’t you see? You always take the blame on yourself, you always try to fix things on your own without for one single minute considering me! And that fucking hurts, Nick!”
Nick just sat there, head hanging, shoulders slouched as if Charlie had just hit him.
Charlie groaned. “Would you fucking look at me, please?” he said impatiently to mask all his hurt and confusion. Nick slowly looked up and met Charlie’s angry gaze. “It’s killing me, Nick, because it’s killing you. You shut me out, you’ve done so for a really long time. I was knocking for such a long time, begging you to let me in. Now I’m not even sure I still want to be let in.”
There was a long, heavy silence between them. Charlie fell back onto the couch and picked up his phone again. But he only pretended to read. Secretly he was waiting for Nick to take the next step.
“You said ‘partner’,” Nick mused after a while.
“What?”
Nick looked up and held Charlie’s gaze. “You said ‘connect to your partner.’ Are we still partners?”
Charlie blinked. He hadn’t considered this. Now he needed a moment to come up with an answer. “That is a complicated question,” he finally admitted.
Nick huffed out a bitter laugh. “Isn’t it just?”
Charlie considered his next words carefully. “It’s really complicated, because I don’t know. We hurt each other so much over and over again, and I’m still angry, and confused, and I do know that we can’t go on like this.”
Nick nodded, then got up as if to leave. Charlie looked at him, then got up, too, crossed the space between them and took Nick’s hand.
Nick looked at Charlie’s hand in surprise, then squeezed gently, as if he was afraid to spook Charlie.
Charlie looked intently at Nick and tried to make his voice as soft as he could in order to soften the blow. “Nick, I think deep down we both know that we haven’t been partners in a long, long time.”
Nick looked hurt and close to tears, but he nodded as he reluctantly let go of Charlie’s hand and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that my condition fucked us up this badly.”
Charlie rolled his eyes impatiently. “See? You’re doing it again,” he said with barely contained anger. “It’s not your problem that fucked us up. It’s your refusal to talk to me.” He took a deep breath. “And my own refusal to talk to you, I suppose.”
“Charlie, no, this is not your fault.”
“But it is,” Charlie replied tiredly. “There doesn’t have to be only one guilty party. You don’t have to take all the credit for that,” he smirked sadly.
Nick coughed. “You said last night that it didn’t work. The trying. So this is it?” he asked anxiously.
“I know what I said,” Charlie retorted. “But I didn’t have all the facts, did I?” he went on, the anger surfacing again.
“And now that you have them? Does that change anything?” Nick asked bitterly.
“Yes and no,” came the reply. “No, it doesn’t change the fact that our relationship is in serious trouble. And I don’t know if we’ll be able to fix it. I only know that I can’t stay here while we try to figure this out.”
“You’re moving out?” Nick asked hastily.
Charlie nodded. “We chose this house because it is close to your school, so it makes sense for you to stay here. I work remotely, I can just as well do it from Tori’s for the time being, until I’ve found something else.”
“So this is permanent?” Nick asked, his voice breaking.
Charlie looked at him and tilted his head to the side. With a sad smile he said, “I’m not filing for divorce or anything, not before we have talked about all of this in more detail.” He turned and started towards the front door. Nick had completely overlooked the packed bag Charlie had deposited there earlier.
“Do you remember the day we signed the contract for this house?” Nick reminisced sadly. “We were so excited for this new part of our life.”
Charlie stood stock still. “Yes, I remember. You bought me flowers and put them in a vase on the kitchen floor.” He suddenly burst out laughing. “They looked so ridiculous in that empty room, and I absolutely loved it!” He turned around with tears in his eyes. “Nick, we had so many wonderful times here, and before that, too. I haven't forgotten, nor will I ever forget how much I loved you.” He turned again and started to leave.
“And the yes?” Nick suddenly asked.
“What?”
“When I asked you if it helped you said yes and no. You explained the no. What about the yes?” Nick pleaded.
Charlie sighed deeply. “It helped because I understand it all better now. And although I’m still angry and hurt, I also understand why you didn’t talk to me. But that hurts, too.” He turned around and looked at Nick. “I really want you to talk to someone, a doctor maybe.”
Nick gave him a sad, crooked grin. “You’re not playing fair, Char.”
Charlie grinned sadly. “I know. Whether or not we can salvage our marriage, I’ll be there to help you anyway I can. You just have to let me this time. The question is, can you do that?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and left.
Nick stared after him for a long time, rooted to the spot, the tears slowly rolling down his face.