THIRTEENTH
CHARLIE
It’s another cold, chilly night, and I find myself wrapped in a blanket, staring at my laptop screen. The soft glow of the screen is the only light in the room, casting a comforting aura around me. School has been a whirlwind, with classes and assignments piling up faster than I can manage. The semester has started with a vengeance, and the days blur together in a haze of stress and exhaustion. I’ve been juggling classes, work, and my nightly chats with WarmNights, who I’ve come to rely on for a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos.
The one constant in this storm has been my late-night conversations with Alex, or rather, WarmNights. These talks have become my sanctuary, a place where I can unwind and be myself without any pretenses. There’s something about our connection that makes everything else seem distant and manageable, even on the most overwhelming days.
"Hey, Charlie," his voice comes through, warm and familiar. "How was your day?"
"Busy," I reply, rubbing my temples. "School’s been crazy, but I’m managing. How about you?"
"Same old, same old," he says with a hint of amusement. "Though I’ve been thinking a lot about our last conversation."
"Oh? What about it?" I ask, settling deeper into my blanket cocoon.
"Just about how we finally shared our real names," he says. "It’s nice to know the real you, Charlie."
"Yeah," I agree, smiling softly. "It’s been nice."
There’s a brief silence, the kind that’s comfortable and laden with unspoken words. Then, Alex’s voice drops to a more serious tone.
"Charlie, there’s something I need to tell you."
I sit up a bit straighter, my heart picking up its pace. "What is it?"
"I’ve known you for a while now," he begins, hesitating slightly. "And not just as WarmNights. I know who you are in real life."
I laugh, the absurdity of the statement hitting me. "Very funny, Alex. What, do you have a crystal ball or something?"
"I’m not joking, Charlie," he says, his voice unwavering. "I know where you live."
My laughter dies in my throat, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. "Okay, now you’re really freaking me out."
"Look outside your window," he says, his tone almost a whisper.
My heart pounds in my chest as I slowly get up and walk to the window. My fingers tremble as I pull back the curtain, peering into the darkness. And there he is—Jack, standing on the sidewalk, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlamp.
My blood runs cold. "Jack?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He looks up, meeting my eyes through the glass, and a slow, almost apologetic smile spreads across his face.
"You said your name was Alex," I manage to say, my voice shaking.
"I wasn’t lying," he replies, his voice clear and steady. "My full name is Jack Alexander."
I feel like the ground is shifting beneath me. Everything I thought I knew about Alex, about WarmNights, is suddenly in question. "Why didn’t you tell me?" I ask, my voice breaking.
"I wanted to," he says, taking a step closer to the window. "But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to scare you off."
I stare at him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Betrayal, confusion, anger, but also a strange sense of relief. At least now, I know the truth.
"How long have you known?" I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"Since the first time you came into the store," he admits. "I recognized your voice. I didn’t mean for it to go on this long without telling you. I just… I didn’t want to lose you."
I swallow hard, trying to process everything. "So all this time, you’ve been spying on me? Pretending to be someone else?"
"No," he says quickly, his eyes pleading. "I wasn’t spying. I was trying to get to know you, to understand you. And I fell for you, Charlie. The real you, not just Jessica."
The air feels thick with tension, every breath a struggle. My thoughts race, each one crashing into the next. My trust feels shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense of betrayal. "You manipulated me," I say, my voice rising with anger. "You lied."
Jack’s face crumples with regret, his eyes glistening under the streetlight. "I never meant to hurt you," he says. "I was scared. I didn't know how to approach you as myself."
"Scared?" I echo, my tone laced with incredulity. "Do you have any idea how this feels? To find out the person I confided in is the same one who’s been playing mind games with me?"
"I know," he says, his voice breaking. "And I’m sorry. I just… I couldn’t lose you."
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady my swirling emotions. This is too much, too fast. "I need time to think," I say, my voice trembling.
"I understand," he says softly. "Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere."
With that, I let the curtain fall back into place, blocking out his image. I walk back to my laptop and log off, my mind racing. Jack Alexander. The mysterious, sometimes infuriating guy from the store is also WarmNights, the person I’ve been confiding in for months.
As I crawl into bed, my thoughts refuse to settle. I don’t know what to feel, or who to trust anymore. But one thing is clear: my world has just been turned upside down, and nothing will ever be the same again.
Damn it, I thought Jack's voice in the store just sounded familiar to me, so I brushed it off!
The room is silent except for the faint hum of the heater. My mind is a chaotic storm of thoughts and emotions, each one clashing violently against the other. How could Jack do this? How could he lie to me for so long, pretend to be someone else? The trust I had in WarmNights feels shattered, replaced by a gnawing sense of betrayal.
I replay our conversations in my head, searching for clues I might have missed, signs that could have hinted at his true identity. But there were none. He played his part perfectly, blending the line between truth and deception so seamlessly that I never suspected a thing. The realization sends a shiver down my spine.
I toss and turn in bed, unable to find a comfortable position. My thoughts keep drifting back to Jack, to his apologetic smile and pleading eyes. Part of me wants to believe him, to accept his explanation and move past this. But another part of me, the part that's been hurt and lied to, refuses to let go so easily.
How do I reconcile the person I thought I knew with the person standing outside my window? Jack Alexander. The name sounds foreign, almost like a character in a novel rather than a real person. And yet, he's real. He's been there all along, hiding in plain sight.
I sit up in bed, staring into the darkness. It feels strange to think that, just a few hours ago, I was one of those voices, chatting with a person I thought I knew.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, jolting me out of my thoughts. I reach for it, my heart skipping a beat when I see Jack's name on the screen. A part of me wants to ignore it, to throw my phone across the room and forget everything. But curiosity gets the better of me, and I swipe to open the message.
"Charlie, I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. Please, let me explain. I owe you that much."
I stare at the message, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. What is there to explain? He lied to me, deceived me. But then again, he also knows me in a way few people do. Our conversations were real, our connection genuine, at least on my end. I start typing, my anger and confusion pouring into my words.
"How can I ever trust you again? Why didn't you tell me that night you recognized me?"
I hit send and wait, my heart pounding in my chest. The seconds tick by, each one stretching into an eternity. Finally, his response comes.
"I know, and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was scared, Charlie. Scared that if you knew who I really was, you’d push me away. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you."
My phone buzzes again.
"I understand if you never want to see me again. But please, give me a chance to make things right. I’ll do whatever it takes."
Goddamn, I remembered when Eddie mentioned that his older brother is a womanizer!
I take a deep breath, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
"Meet me at the coffee shop tomorrow. We need to talk."
I hit send and place my phone back on the night
stand. As I lie back down, exhaustion finally overtakes me. My mind is still a whirlwind of emotions, but there’s a sliver of clarity. Tomorrow, I’ll confront Jack. Tomorrow, I’ll get the answers I need. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to move forward.
*****