Last night I found Charlie sitting alone in the dark kitchen. When I snapped on the light, he looked up in surprise and I could clearly see the fear and confusion etched into his face. Overnight, his simple life had become anything but simple. He had no understanding of what he was involved in and no resources to deal with it. He didn’t even know his wife’s real name. At that moment, all my cynicism faded away. The man and the circumstances he found himself in affected me more deeply than I ever expected.

I thought I could help him. I thought I could provide a level of understanding, a person to talk to. I broke out my best bottle of scotch for him, hoping to give him a superficial pleasure to think about for a moment. When he suggested I save it for a special occasion, I told him with a smile that in the Cale family, when a guest needs a drink, that is occasion enough. I even managed to elicit a weak smile from him. Max may have brought him here, but he quickly became my guest. The truth is, he was much more than a guest. I felt an inexplicable connection to this man, who seemed so lost and afraid.

His first question was how long Max and I have been together. Not ‘Are you together?’ but ‘How long have you been together?’ He stated it as if our relationship was a given fact. When I repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time this year, that we’re not like that, he seemed surprised. Then he asked me if it was because of what Max is. What she is. What I am. What our world is. A thousand things have held us back.

He talked about how difficult it was to cope when Tinga first disappeared and how difficult it still was, even though he had her back. When he said he was considering running away, I challenged him. "You don’t have the right to take her son away."

"She didn’t have the right to get him into this," he protested, using almost the same words I had used with Max just a few hours earlier. Despite what I said to Max, I couldn’t let him run away from the relationship he had obviously worked very hard for. I knew that Tinga loved him. That was beyond question. And I knew that he loved her. Despite the fear and upheaval, I could see it in his eyes. So I pushed him to stick with it.

"Maybe not. But you’re in it and you’re gonna have to deal with it. She is still the same woman you fell in love with, raised a son with. Don’t throw that away because some lunatic wants to put her back in a cage." As I remember my words now, I realize that I could have been talking to myself. Our situations are so similar, except that I am in this by choice. I don’t have the excuse of not knowing what I am getting into.

Shortly after our conversation, things truly fell apart for Charlie. He didn’t run away or abandon his wife, but he still lost her. Lydecker used Case as a lure to recapture Tinga. He couldn’t have chosen anything more compelling. When Case got sick, Tinga was desperate with worry. Charlie wanted to take Case to a hospital. He and Zack were literally at each other’s throats about it. Charlie couldn’t understand why a hospital wasn’t an option any longer, not that they would have been able to help Case at a hospital anyway. Lydecker rigged up a barcode to appear on Case’s neck to let us know he was behind this. He set it up to display his contact number, of all things. When Max called him, he informed her that he had infected Case with nanotechnology. He said Case only had a few hours to live. Then he made his offer, Tinga in exchange for the antidote. Nothing is sacred to those people, not even an innocent child. Of course, Lydecker succeeded. Tinga turned herself in. What else could she do? I can’t fathom the grief Charlie must have felt when he realized that he had no choice but to give her up to save his son. Yet, even after everything that happened, he thanked us for all that we did for him. But it feels so inadequate. Nothing we could do could ever make up for the loss of a wife and mother.

I’ve never been in a position where I didn’t regret my actions. I can trace all the things that have gone wrong in my life back to my own decisions. I don’t know what it is like to live without regret. In this area, Charlie’s life is completely different from mine. He did the right thing. He took the risk. Charlie and Tinga took a chance on their love and built a life together. They even raised a child together. But their world still fell apart. Charlie didn’t deserve this, none of them did, but they were powerless to stop it. Yet, despite his grief, Charlie made it clear that their love was worth all the fear and pain they had to endure. He could have blamed Tinga for not telling him earlier what was going on. He could have blamed Zack or Lydecker or any one of us. But he didn’t blame anyone. All he could talk about was how precious the time he had with Tinga was to him.

"’Cause even after everything that’s happened I wouldn’t give up one minute of the time that we spent together. Not a second." He said with complete conviction.

"Not a second." He said again, and that just after telling his son that his mother had to go away. No man should ever have to do that.

This is a very difficult lesson to comprehend. I could do the right thing. I could tell Max how I feel. I could dedicate myself to making her happy, but through no fault of ours, we could still be ripped apart. I doubt that I could live with that. Yet Charlie believes it is worth it. That nothing will take his time with Tinga away from him. Could their love be that powerful? God, I hope it’s true, for Charlie and for all of us.