Cooper wakes up to find his wife's side of the bed empty. When he goes downstairs to start the coffee, he finds a half empty pot and Charlotte's travel mug gone. It's rare that Charlotte leaves for work before Mason is on the bus to school, and Cooper figures that there must have been an emergency at the hospital. It isn't until he gets Mason out of bed and in the shower, that Cooper notices the NA chip on Charlotte's bedside table.
Ten years sober. Charlotte hasn't mentioned this anniversary to Cooper. He picks up the chip and holds it in his hand for a moment. Cooper doesn't understand much about addiction, but watching Amelia fall off the wagon this past year has given him a little more insight into how much strength it takes to stay clean. Ten years. They haven't all been easy years for his wife, and Cooper is struck by a sense of pride.
This is an accomplishment worth celebrating. Cooper knows that Charlotte would say no if he asks her, so he decides to plan a special evening for the two of them without telling Charlotte. Mason is going to a friend's house right after school, so Cooper and Charlotte will have the evening to themselves.
Cooper doesn't see much of Charlotte the whole day. Every time he finds her she rushes off, though for the life of him Cooper has no idea what is keeping his wife so busy. Cooper leaves work a little early so that he can cook a special dinner, stopping at the florist on his way to pick up a bouquet of roses. When Charlotte walks in the door at 6 o'clock, she finds the table set with the good silverware and candles lit throughout the house.
Charlotte goes into the kitchen where Cooper is busy at work. "Hey beautiful," Cooper says, turning from the pan on the stove. He picks up the flowers and hands them to Charlotte, "these are for you." Cooper gives his wife a kiss, leaves his palm cupping her neck, and pulls back to tell her, "I am so proud of you." Charlotte's eyes are suddenly wet, but it's not the happy kind of tears that Cooper was hoping for. She looks stricken.
Charlotte pulls away from Cooper's touch. It's too much. She can't have him touching her right now. It's too gentle; it feels too good.
"What's wrong?" Cooper asks. Charlotte struggles. She opens her mouth a few times, but nothing comes out. Her eyes are red, but no tears fall. "Char?" Cooper says, his concern growing by the second.
Charlotte finally forces the words from her throat. "I don't deserve this." Cooper reaches out for Charlotte again, but she shrugs his hand off. She doesn't deserve his touch. Why can't he understand? "I killed a woman Cooper!" she says, and then Cooper understands. Why hadn't he thought about that? Why hadn't he realized that this anniversary must be unbearably painful for Charlotte?
"Oh, Charlotte."
"No, I don't deserve sympathy. I killed a woman ten years ago. Her family deserves sympathy. Not me."
Cooper doesn't know what to do for his wife. She's hurting so much, and this is something he can't take away from her. He reaches out for her again, but Charlotte moves away. "Why won't you let me touch you?" Cooper asks, though he's pretty sure he knows the answer.
Charlotte relents and walks towards her husband. He wraps her up in a hug. "I love you," Cooper says, knowing that Charlotte certainly doesn't love herself right now.
He does, Charlotte knows. He loves her so much; loves her despite the horrible things she's done. Charlotte knows that life isn't fair, that you don't get what you deserve. Because there is no way in hell that she deserves the incredible family she has. She's been ridiculously blessed when she deserves nothing but a lifetime of pain. It's almost like Cooper knows what she's thinking, because he whispers to her, "You deserve to be loved Charlotte."
"I don't," Charlotte tells her husband, her face still pressed against his chest. "I am so grateful for you and for Mase, but I shouldn't get to be so happy."
"Do you know how much you've changed my life?" Cooper asks. "You're amazing Charlotte. You're an amazing wife and an amazing mother. One awful mistake doesn't take away everything good."
Charlotte lets herself cry, lets herself grieve. It's a luxury she doesn't think she should have. Why should she get to be upset over something she did? But Cooper's arms are around her, and it's a comfort, even today. And though she's sure she doesn't deserve it, Charlotte lets herself take comfort in her husband.