Reckless In Love(53)

"If something else has to go, then it will, because I'm not giving up my classes."

"I'm sorry." A tremor ran through him, and she hated feeling as though  she'd just ripped his heart to shreds. "I'm so damned sorry," he  whispered.

"No," she told him. "Don't be sorry. Not for one single thing. Not for one single moment. I know I'm not."

He breathed in deeply, flexing his fingers under hers. He was a helper.  He fixed things. He took care of people. When he couldn't do that, he  was lost. But knowing that didn't make the desolation on his face any  easier to take. His pain ground her insides to mincemeat.

But she knew what they both needed. Time. To take a breath. To think  clearly again. "I need to see my mom. Alone this time. And I think it  would be a good idea if I spent tonight at my place. That way I can  focus on my class syllabus."

An ache that came from deep inside threatened to pull her apart...but  she still made herself walk away, out of the workshop, on legs that felt  like they'd collapse with every step. She wasn't walking away because  he'd done anything wrong. On the contrary, when the dark clouds  appeared, when the shadows crept closer, she hadn't put the brakes on.  Instead, she'd let that first bit of adoration and celebrity turn her  head. She'd let the promise of financial security turn her work in a  direction in which she should never have let it go.

She had a lot of things to unravel. Maybe she couldn't sort them all out  tonight. But she could at least make a start. Tomorrow, she hoped she  would be one step closer to being the real Charlie Ballard again.

But would Sebastian be able to love that woman, without all the glitter and all the fame to go along with her?





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


The workshop was too damned quiet. Too big. All wrong without Charlie.

Sebastian hadn't moved since she'd left him. He'd barely been able to  think, to process a damned thing when he already missed her so badly his  whole body felt cleaved in two.

The four horses-closer to looking like real, living creatures now, and  brilliantly, beautifully executed beyond anything his imagination had  conjured-stared at him mercilessly from across the space. And they  judged him harshly.

She really loved you. And you screwed it up, hurt her in the worst way  possible. The woman who always created from her soul and heart actually  stopped enjoying her work. She stopped loving us.

The last word seemed to hiss in the air, condemning him.

All these years, Sebastian had been so sure, so certain, that he'd  eradicated his old demons. But he'd been lying to himself. His father's  voice still shouted inside him every single day. He wanted to climb onto  that chariot and let the wild horses drag him through the streets until  all of it was gone. His father's cruel laughter. The pain of his  childhood. And worst of all, the hole in his heart where Charlie should  have been.

If something else has to go, then it will.

Charlie's words played over and over in Sebastian's head. And he knew. His worst fears had just come true.

Because that something was him.

He couldn't blame her for leaving. Everything she said was true. The  first night at the Regent might have been fun for her-new, different,  exciting. But after that, he'd forced his vision on her, believing it  would solve all her problems. All his problems. It would make her a  star. She'd have the fame, all the work she could possibly want, and all  the money to take care of her mom. That was his vision. Just as she'd  said, he'd tried to make her into a glittering celebrity. But no matter  what she thought, she hadn't just fit, she'd conquered. She wasn't the  ugly duckling-or a Zanti Misfit-she was the gorgeous swan. She was  bright, intelligent, and talented, and she fit his world perfectly in  every way.

Except that she didn't want it, didn't love it. And that was the most  important thing of all-that she loved what she did with her life.

Charlie wanted a normal life, wanted to build animals out of junk in her  workshop just for fun. He'd been pressuring her in directions she  didn't want to go. He should have seen it when she didn't want the  dress, when she wouldn't accept his money. The signs had all been there.

He'd wanted to make her happy, but she'd been so much happier before  he'd pushed her, before he'd run her ragged. He'd brought her to this,  had pushed her to the point where she'd said, I can't even create  anymore.         

     



 

Charlie's lifeblood, her truest joy, came from her art. If she lost her  art, her joy would be gone too. He'd never forgive himself for taking  that away from her. Never.

He wanted Charlie happy. He wanted her laughing. Instead, all he'd done was cause her pain.

Susan had tried to tell him he pushed too hard, but he just wouldn't  listen. Not when he thought he knew best. Not when he was so busy  keeping all the lines straight.

Except that Charlie wasn't a straight line. She was elephants and  dragons and dinosaurs and Zanti Misfits. She was magic, his unexpected.

And he was her toxic other half.

Everything inside of Sebastian went still and freezing cold.

He hadn't wanted to imagine a world in which he and Charlie could ever  be toxic to each other-or worse, where he was toxic to her. But that was  exactly what he was-the worst thing for Charlie. Just like his dad had  been toxic for his mom. Like Whitney was for Evan.

You could love someone to death-and that was what he was doing to  Charlie, crushing her spirit and her independence. Crushing her joy.

Just like his mom and dad. On her own, Mom might have gotten clean, but  his dad was always the one who said, "Come on, honey, let's have some  fun tonight. We can stay home tomorrow if you want."

His father had been drawn like a moth to the party flame...and though  Sebastian's parties were shinier and prettier, they were still noise and  distraction and the buzz of always being surrounded by people, their  voices and laughter drowning out everything else.

Like his father, Sebastian thrived on his events. That's where he made  his contacts, did his business, lived his life, all in the public eye.  And that had been fine until he'd become driven by the relentless need  to sell Charlie's magnificence, to sell her art.

The stark realization that he might be more like his father than he'd  ever thought possible made everything painfully clear for Sebastian.  He'd vowed he would stop screwing up, and yet he kept on doing it, kept  on driving Charlie, deciding what was best for her. And he couldn't  stop, despite all his promises, because he didn't know how.

Charlie deserved all the happiness and all the joy in the world.  Sebastian couldn't stand the thought of seeing her destroyed by his  choices or his desires. And yet that was exactly what he was doing,  dragging her into his world and tearing her apart. But it was his world,  it was how he lived. He didn't know any other way. For her sake, for  the sake of her art-because Charlie lived and breathed her art-he had to  walk away. He couldn't get down on his knees and beg her to come back  to him. He couldn't let her see his heart break open and his guts bleed  for her.

He'd thought it had been hard to leave his parents, but this would be  light years worse. No wonder his father had never cut his mother loose,  though he had to know he was destroying her. Just as Sebastian had come  close to destroying Charlie, forcing her from party to party, one after  the other, sometimes even on the same day, and supplanting her art in  the process.

Cutting Charlie loose was the very last thing he ever wanted to do, and  the hardest. But he would not be like his parents, damn it. He would not  be like Whitney and Evan. He would own up to the painful truth that he  was the worst thing for Charlie, the toxic component of their  relationship that drained all her inspiration and her creativity.

She had all the new commissions. She'd do great on her own. When the  chariot was unveiled, she would become the talk of the art world. The  critics would love her, and art patrons would wallow at her feet. He  would die a little more every day without her. But she would thrive,  would pick and choose her commissions, take only what she wanted. And  she would never again have to worry about Francine.

Don't be sorry. Not for one single thing. Not for one single moment. I know I'm not.

Lord...he was so damned sorry. He'd never wished so badly that he could  rewind time and get it right, that he could have torn off the blinders  before it was too late, before he'd pushed Charlie so far in directions  she'd never wanted to go.

Even if he could do those impossible things, there was only one way he  could be absolutely sure to keep Charlie safe and happy, full of her  vision and creativity. Though it would kill everything inside him, he  would do it.

He would set her free.





CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO


"Honey, what's wrong?" Her mom's face creased with worry, and she held out her hands.

Charlie had barely set foot inside the room, but her mother knew her so  well. It had been at least twenty years since Charlie had run into her  mom's arms, but she went down on her knees in what felt like the only  safe place left in the world.