Gerard was staring off down the terminal, stroking the back of my hand with his fingertips. A look of concern was etched across his face.

“I wish I could come with you,” he said for the umpteenth time. He turned to glance over at me.

“I know. I haven’t exactly told my parents that I’m dating you yet. Besides, you have your family to see, too,” I tried to convince myself this was a good thing. He just kept sitting there, bouncing his leg impatiently. “I really should go through security now. I only have like twenty minutes until I board.”

Gerard stood up with me, pulling me in for a long kiss. I was going to miss these. “It’s only for a few weeks. And I’ll be here the day before you so I’ll be waiting right on this bench when you get off that plane. Okay?” He lifted my chin up to look at him with his fingers. I nodded. “Kiss me again.”

He walked up to the security gate with me, pulling me in for another kiss. I was going to miss my flight if he kept this up. “Remember that I love you.”

“I love you too, Gerard,” I whispered. He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length for one last glance.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

I just shook my head. “I have to go though! I’m going to be late.”

“Call me when you land, please,” he begged, kissing my cheek. “I love you.”

I tore myself from him, his fingers giving my shoulders one last squeeze. He waited the whole time I walked through the security gate, and gave me a big smile and wave when I made it through the machines before turning down the terminal walkway.

I was really not looking forward to living with my parents for almost a month. I was excited to see Jordin, but my parents had been tense as of late. And I was already freaked out about still not having a job, and my savings were dwindling. I hadn’t told Gerard anything about my financial situation, because I didn’t want him to try and intervene or anything of the sort, as I assumed he would. But it was all I was thinking about-besides him-as the plane took off from the tarmac.

Jordin and my dad were waiting by the baggage claim when I landed, holding a sign with Charley Barley scrawled across it in pink highlighter. They pulled me into a tight hug.

“You guys are adorable,” I grumbled. My dad laughed as he took my duffel bag from my shoulders.

“How was the flight?” He asked, guiding me towards the parking lot with his hand on my back.

“Uneventful, which is never a bad thing.” I said as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if Gerard had texted me. Three texts popped up from him when I switched my phone off of airplane mode.

“We waited to put the decorations on the tree until tonight because we know how much you love it,” Jordin teased, elbowing my arm. I groaned. My mom always made a big deal of Jordin and I decorating the tree, making us pose for pictures wrapped up in lights with stars on our head and ornaments dangling from our fingertips.

“Oh joy,” I said.

“Joy to the world, I think you mean,” my dad quipped. They laughed. It was good to be back around the Dad Jokes.

There were no Christmas lights on the trim of our house when we pulled up, and I asked my dad why. He shrugged. “I didn’t have the time or energy to really nail any up this year.” All of the lights in the house were off when he jiggled the key in the lock of the front door.

“Is mom not home?” I asked, peering through the front window. Jordin and dad didn’t answer immediately.

“I’ll go throw this up in your room,” Jordin grabbed my suitcase and hurried up the stairs. Dad just shuffled me inside the entryway, closing the heavy front door behind us.

“Where’s mom?” I asked again, frowning. My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the couch on the left of the entryway.

“Charlie, there’s something I have to tell you. I couldn’t bring myself to do it over the phone.” My mind was going a million thoughts a minute. Holy shit was my mom dead? WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME MY MOM DIED. “Your mom moved out a few months ago.”

“Months?” I stuttered, my breathing quickening. “Months ago? And you’re just now telling me? What happened? Why did nobody think this was important to let me know?” My face was growing hot and tears were pooling in the corners of my eyes. My dad looked stricken, holding his hands up.

“Look, honey, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to come home to, but it is what it is. We’re going through a separation. I’m sorry. I really am,” he reached out to stroke my arm, and I let him. I couldn’t move. My blood felt like it had turned to molten lead, making me sweat and feel exhausted at the same time. I couldn’t believe this. “If you want to be alone for a while, that’s fine, just know that Jordin and I are here for you.” He got up to give me a hug, then moved to the kitchen to probably make some hot chocolate.

I didn’t notice Jordin sit down next to me.

“How you doing?” He said quietly, glancing over at me. I just threw my head back onto the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling. Truth be told, I didn’t know how I was doing. I didn’t feel like I knew anything anymore. It was all I could do to shake me head ‘no’. “I’m sorry, Charlotte.”

“You’re sorry?! I’m sorry. You’ve been at home dealing with this alone, and you didn’t even feel like you could tell me. I’m such a shitty older sister-” I began to say, my voice rising in volume.

“We were just worried about how you would react, given your...you know,” his voice trailed off, making my blood boil.

“No, Jordin, I don’t know? My what? My problems? Afraid I’m going to go and kill myself?” I shot at him. He just looked ahead at the fireplace, lifting his feet to rest on the coffee table while he rode out my outburst.

“Basically,” he admitted, his annoyance apparent. I couldn’t be around people. I got up, storming up the stairs to my room. Suddenly, I was no longer twenty-two. I was eight, mad at my parents for letting Jordin do the same things I did when I was the older sibling. I was nine, mad at Jordin for getting gum in my hair on my birthday. I was eleven, kicking and screaming all the way to my room when I found out my Hogwarts letter never came. I was fourteen, locking myself in the bathroom to try and pierce my ears. I was sixteen, hiding in my room after my mom found a condom wrapper in my backpack. I was eighteen, swaddled in blankets with puffy red eyes while my mom brought me tea the third time Anthony broke up with me.

But this time, I was twenty-two, running from the world to dive into my childhood room because I was heartbroken that my parents were getting a divorce, had been separated, all without anybody mentioning it to me because I apparently was so damn volatile. I proved my assumptions right when I slammed the door shut behind me, causing an old picture on my wall to come crashing towards the floor.

And so my mom just wasn’t going to even show up to get me from the airport? So she wasn’t going to say anything, just leave Jordin and my dad to pick up the pieces? My phone began buzzing from my purse that Jordin had left on the edge of my bed. It was her.

“What.” I breathed into the phone, trying to cut through her with my tone.

“Well, hello to you too,” she said, as if she had no idea why I would be upset. “I heard you got in, and I just wanted to call and see how you were doing.”

“How the fuck do you think I’m doing, mom?” I spat.

“Don’t you talk to me like that. Just because you think you’re all grown up now-”

“And you obviously don’t think I am, because you can’t be bothered to, you know, keep me up to date with important things like the fact that you left my dad?” I shrieked. It felt weird to be calling him ‘my dad’ to her. It made her feel like the enemy.

“Oh, don’t you turn this on me. We all know you can’t handle yourself when anything goes wrong,” she hissed.

“Yeah mom, I guess you’re right. Guess I’ll just go grab a razor and drink myself to death. Sounds good, mom, thanks, mom.” I hung up on her. She didn’t call me back. That had been too harsh, and even I could admit that. But I wasn’t exactly feeling rational. As if it were possible, my heart sank even lower when I realized I hadn’t called Gerard since I had landed. I quickly dialed him, some of my anxiety quelling when I heard his voice exclaim my name.

“I was beginning to get worried,” he said. “I’m so happy you made it!”

“Hey, yeah, I made it. I’m sorry, some shit went down and I wasn’t able to call you sooner,” I said after clearing my throat, trying to not sound like I had just been crying.

“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” Gerard’s voice had an edge to it. I didn’t know how to answer that question, I didn’t know what to say to him. I couldn’t even really think about it without starting to cry. “Charlotte, talk to me. Say something.”

I cleared my throat again, trying to take a deep breath. “My mom...moved out,” I finally forced out of my throat, a few stray tears leaking out of my eyes.

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my god, Charlotte, I’m so sorry, I wish I was there right now-”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I’m just, I think I’m just going to go to bed early tonight.” I wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk to anybody, even Gerard, as shitty as that sounded. I could hear him sighing, struggling to formulate words.

“I just-please don’t...just be...safe,” he finally said. I could tell he was trying to avoid certain words.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” I said quietly.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I really love you,” he said desperately. “So much.”

“I know. I’m going to shower.” I said.

“Goodnight. I love you.”

I had to hang up. I could listen to him tell me that all day and all night long, and all it would do would make me sad. I threw my phone on the ground, sinking back onto my bed again. Twenty eight years. My parents had been together for twenty eight years. A soft knock on my door startled me. I didn’t say anything.

Jordin cracked my door open, letting himself in. “Did I hear you say you loved someone?” He hopped next to me on my bed, kicking his slippered feet into the air. Despite all of the shitty things I was feeling, I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s not Anthony, don’t worry,” I reassured him.

“Then who is it?” He batted his eyelashes at me like the jackass he was. I rolled over onto my own stomach, grinning into my comforter. “Oh shit, you really like him.”

“His name is Gerard. He was my art professor last year. He’s amazing,” I said, glancing at Jordin through my arms. He put a hand up to his mouth.

“Ohhhhh, girl...how old is he?”

“He’s twenty nine. He’s going to be thirty in a few months,” I groaned. “The age difference sounds so much worse when I say it out loud.”

“Is he hot?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you have any pictures?” I laughed, fishing around on the floor for my phone to show him. I had a few of Gerard; some I had taken while he wasn’t looking and drawing in his studio, others were of us on a hike, bundled up by the pier, hanging out in a bar with Frank. Jordin pointed to Frank. “Who the hell is that?”

“That’s my new art professor, Frank,” I said, eyeing Jordin. “Why?”

“He looks cool,” Jordin said, rolling his eyes with a smile.

We hung out in my room, talking for a while. I finally had to ask. “Why did mom leave?” I wanted to know whose fault it was. Everything became easier when you knew who exactly to be mad at. Jordin sighed, flipping through my pictures of Gerard and me on my phone again.

“Mom met somebody else,” he finally admitted. My heart was weighing itself down in my chest, tearing through my flesh until I felt raw on the inside.

“I can’t believe it.”

“I know.”

---

I decided to text Gerard before crawling into bed. Told him that my little brother approved of us and how I thought he had the hots for Frank. Gerard replied with a picture of him and Frank at the airport having a beer before Gerard flew off to Jersey on a red-eye. He told me he loved me.

To Gerard, 10:42 PM
If you loved me, you’d be kissing me right now </3

He sent back a picture of Frank kissing him on the cheek.

From Gerard, 10:44 PM
[IMG ATTACH, 232 KB]
I’m pretending he’s you <3

To Gerard, 10:46 PM
God dammit. Don’t leave me for Frank.

From FRANK, 10:47 PM
BACK OFF MY BF, BITCH

From Gerard, 10:48 PM
He’s drunk.

From Gerard, 10:49 PM
And I love you.

Notes