CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY TWO – THE LOANSHARK
As the evening wore on, they finished their meal and settled onto the sofa, Charlotte curled into Richard's side. The television hummed quietly in the background, but neither of them paid it much attention. Instead, they talked - about their dreams, their fears, the twists and turns that had led them to this moment.
"Do you ever miss it?" Richard asked suddenly. "Your old life in New York?"
Charlotte was quiet for a long moment, considering. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Not the drama or the backstabbing. But the security, the comfort... knowing where my next meal was coming from, not having to count every penny. I miss that."
He nodded, his arm tightening around her. "I can understand that."
"But then I think about all the fakeness, the constant pressure to maintain appearances," she continued. "And I realize that I don't miss that at all. Here, even when things are tough, at least it's real. The people are real."
"Like the charming patrons of The Rusty Anchor?" Richard teased.
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