Stacey hustled Abigail, Aaron, and Yolanda outside. "Charlie's not sad anymore," she explained patiently. "He was, a long time ago."

That evening, Charlie’s homecoming was a whirlwind. Abigail, Aaron, and Yolanda swarmed him, a giggling, hugging tornado. He squatted, kissing each rosy cheek, utterly blissful. He couldn’t hold them all – not the younger three at once, anyway. Lillian, Kevin, Jeremy, and Damian, older now, needed less fuss, but Charlie hugged each, making sure no one felt overlooked. The Carter family had grown, a joyful, chaotic scene.

The commotion died down. Debra called Charlie over. His smile faltered. "Abigail and Aaron were in your room," she said, "playing hide-and-seek. They were... nosing around."

Charlie bolted upstairs. Debra watched him go, a thought striking her. Years of singledom… could it be because of her? Stacey, ever observant, murmured, "I'll check on him."

She approached his room, her steps softening. She paused at the door. Debra joined her, then the children, a silent, curious throng. They waited.

"Mommy, Granny, what's wrong with Uncle Charlie?" Lillian asked.

"Yeah, what's he doing?" Kevin echoed.

"He's crying!" Abigail whispered dramatically.

"His eyes are red!" Aaron added. "Really, really sad crying!"

"No!" Yolanda announced loudly. "Aunt Stacey said he cried before. The picture's old!"

The kids' chatter spilled into Charlie's room. He sighed, shoving a diary and photos into a drawer. He plastered on a stern face.

Abigail burst in, "Uncle Charlie!" Yolanda followed, eyes wide. "Uncle Charlie, why were you crying?"

Charlie held them close, speechless. "I wasn't crying," he mumbled. "Don't lie!"

"You were!" Aaron insisted. "Your eyes are super red!"

Stacey chuckled and stepped in. "Abigail, Aaron, give Charlie some space." Yolanda looked from Stacey to Charlie.

Debra entered last, a soft sigh escaping her. "Becky, take the kids downstairs," she told Stacey.

Stacey herded the children away. Debra turned to Charlie. "Charlie," she began gently, "all these years…"

Charlie forced a smile. "Mom, it's in the past. It doesn't matter. Let's go downstairs." He wanted her gone.

But Debra couldn't let it go. She hadn't understood his years of solitude. Now, she knew. "Chuck," she said, using a name long unused.

Charlie froze. "Chuck? Can I ask… her name? When did it start?" Debra asked, guilt heavy in her voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Mom, call me Charlie," he said, a tremor in his voice. "It gives me goosebumps."

Debra's guilt turned to exasperation. "Stop joking! I'm serious."

Charlie sighed and sat. "I am serious. It's been years. Let it go."

"You still love her, don't you?" Debra asked. Charlie didn't answer.