Lindsay sank into the sun-warmed leather seats and Charles hurried to the other side of the car and opened the door, quickly seating himself facing her. His face and eyes held a questioning look. She wondered at this, realizing (perhaps for the first time) that Charles was also caught up in the whirlwind, that he too would have to face Stuart and even his own duplicity. Knowing Charles, Lindsay began to understand that Charles was perhaps the most confused and frightened of any of them.
She was still shaking imperceptibly, and she drew in her breath with a quavering gasp that simultaneously betrayed her emotions (of this she was unconcerned) and seemed to further release her plunging heart, allowing her to slowly calm her heart and thoughts.
Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Only now she noticed he was wearing white?uncommon for him. He usually clad himself in dark. Now, his outfit seemed blaringly calamitous and inopportune.
?Things have changed, Charles, since you and I first met each other,? she began. She felt unsure of how to say what rippled just under the surface. Sometimes it was almost as if she was party to a secret knowledge, like the old alchemists in their dark laboratories. Yet how had they told the world? She felt even if she knew what to say, it would not matter because the rest of the world did not have what she had. The outside, the dark was the unknown and unknowing, and they could never learn her art, no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much she told them. She knew the secret arts and formulas and yet could only write them and speak them in a language of one, lost to the world and unable to be taught. She remembered her secret life inside, and continued.
?There?s more that Stuart doesn?t know; even you have no idea. I don?t know what you think about us, but I have never been more unsure of anything in my life. Charles, where do we go from here? How can we repair the great mistakes of our lives, our love??
Charles opened his mouth as if to speak but stopped himself. He let her continue.
?Have you ever stayed awake all night just to see the sunrise?? she asked, and felt tears welling up. Charles nodded his head. ?Do you know how many sunrises I have seen since arriving here?? She shook her head and brusquely wiped her eyes. ?My last night in Chicago, before Stuart picked me up, I stayed awake, knowing it would be my last in America for a while. I told myself stories of what I imagined life was like over here. I even prayed once, very quietly, thinking perhaps it couldn?t hurt. I was anxious, Charles, anxious and afraid of us. I haven?t been able to stop thinking of us. You changed my life when we met and then again when you left me.?
?We were never together Lin,? said Charles. ?It was always you and Stuart, you know this. Ever since you met it had been decided.?
?We had something,? Lindsay leaned forward, emphatic. ?You and I?we could have been something.?
?What else was there to do?? said Charles.
?Instead you let go. Were you too afraid? Were you ashamed??
?You know this, Lindsay. Don?t you remember that night you and I almost got caught? I told you my feelings then. It doesn?t matter what we once had, because it was only temporary, a shot in the dark. After that it was always inevitable. You blinded yourself if you can?t understand that.? Charles took Lindsay?s hand and held it gently.
?If you never give up, then you can never be forgiven.?
Lindsay stared down at her hand. She now knew that Charles? intentions were to disincline himself from any further engagements with her. She sighed and closed her eyes, clenching them against the light and tears that threatened to evacuate again. She felt wearied by the fighting, the constant battle to understand their history and future. Perhaps it was his ambiguity and mystery that both incited her to love him and provoked her fatigue. It was a constant tension between knowing the mind he allowed her to see and feeling the emptiness of the gulf?his deep.
?Charles, I have?there is something which I must tell you. I have delayed telling you because I also would have had to tell Stuart as well, and that wasn?t something I was in any condition to do. I have?? she stopped, hanging her head.
?Dear God, please don?t say what I think you?re going to say,? he drew back, dropping her hand.
?I am not pregnant,? Lindsay said, and burst into tears. He breathed thankfully, and she wished he had not been so callous. She felt the burden still upon her, yet knowing his mind, found her thoughts tending toward anger and violence. How easily he betrayed his own weaknesses, she thought, and wondered if she was wrong about him. No, she had not traded openness for secrets, had not despised fortune to adore a man who had no thought but for himself; she knew him better, but still that sting hurt, and she realized it was the first time she had truly felt injured by something he said.
?I must return to Chicago,? she finally said, tears partially obscuring her speech. ?I have purchased a return ticket from Calais to Dover.?
?What? You cannot be serious. Stuart will kill you, you know this!? he said.
?I have already made arrangements.?
?And when do you depart?? Charles asked, searching her face for some betraying glance.
?A week from tomorrow,? she looked longingly at his confused face, wishing he could understand what she felt in her heart. ?Come with me,? she said. ?We can begin again. There is nothing here but sadness and death.?
?Can you tell me why you would do this?? he asked. She remained quiet for a few moments, thinking, imagining her inner-self answering confidently something she would never know. Her quiet self shrank because she knew she was unsure in every respect.
?I need to feel alive again,? she said quietly.