When Bass opens his front door, he feels like hell. It's cold and dark when he walks inside. He doesn't care. He shared a bottle of whiskey with Connor in town. He had looked at him, while Connor had held his glass of whiskey in his hand. He had seen a part of Emma. He had seen a part of himself. His kid has met someone and can't stop smiling like a moron when he mentions her. He has met her. It's a sweet girl.
He can see how much Connor cares about her. He's proud of his kid. He wants Connor to have a home. A family. Kids. He doesn't want an empty life for him. But Connor's happiness hurts. He knows it is pathetic. But when he looks at his kid and all the possibilities ahead of him, his old life, his parents, home, Jasper, Emma, Miles, is too damn close.
Miles had joined them. Another bottle had been opened. Charlie hadn't been there. Bass had stared at the door of the bar more than he should have, every time someone walked inside. But she hadn't joined them.
Bass has barely seen her the past couple of weeks. He knows why. He understands. He knows how much these winter months are hurting her. He knows how she is struggling to find a life that is hers after everything that has happened. She has been through hell and back. She is strong as hell. But he can see it in her eyes. It hurts. It hurts too damn much. He knows.
And he knows he shouldn't care about her like he does. He knows he shouldn't feel what he feels for her. Hell, he misses being on the road with her, when it had been just the two of them. He will never tell her and she will never believe him when he would.
He wants to be there for her but at the same time he has to push her away when she gets too close. When he hears his own damn voice and insults when he talks to her, he fucking hates himself. But he can't stop. He longs for the days he had only seen loathing and burning hate for him in her eyes.
Bass throws his jacket on the couch. He moves his hand over his face when more misery finds him and her eyes are too close. He needs more fucking whiskey. The only sound that fills his living room, are the sounds of his boots on the old wooden floor.
And then, on his way to the kitchen and a bottle of whiskey, he sees it. It's waiting for him on the table close to the fireplace. It's a white envelope. He walks to the table. His hand moves to the faded paper of the envelope. He hesitates before he opens it. When he finally does, he can feel how everything he has tried to push away for years, ambushes him.
The picture inside the envelop makes his chest fill with raw edges and a burning warmth. Because there they are. All of them. His mother's strength and gentle eyes. His father's grin. His little sisters, close to him, smiling and filled with youth and eagerness to live their lives. Miles and Ben are standing next to him, with beers in their hands and proud grins on their faces.
They are smiling. Life had been so different, there in the living room of the home he misses so much. And he remembers. He remembers all of them. And for one moment, he is home again.
When he holds the picture and memory in his hand, his old life, his family, the friendship and the love that is still somehow there, finds him through time. It's sharp unexpected warmth. A smile appears on his face. It brushes his lips, before it flows to his eyes. Even in the dark, it adds more intensity to the blue in his eyes.
When he turns the picture around in his hand, Ben's handwriting is waiting for him. And he has to swallow away the start of tears, love and regret when he sees what's written on the picture. Dinner with beers and family, Jasper.
And he knows. He just knows that there is only one person who could have placed this picture on his damn table. There is only one person fucking brave enough to give him what she just gave him. There is only one woman, who would be able to look beyond old pain and hate and the past and give him what she just gave him. It's Charlie. It's her.
He swallows while he soaks up the young smiles of his sisters, his parent's love, Ben's kindness and Miles grin. He stares at the picture. He doesn't notice the cold, empty room around him while his thoughts flow back to Charlie. He knows he is probably the last one she wants to see. He knows it is late. But he also knows, he has got to see her.