Chapter 21
Oh fuck. I can’t believe I forgot my cell phone. It took an hour to get the kids to the lobby. I pat my pockets. No, not there.
“Hold up. I forgot something. Stay here with Mrs. Barton. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to the room for a second.”
“I’ll go with you.” Krystal rushes toward me.
I frown. “No, if Eric sees you, he’s going to get upset again about having to stay behind with Linda.”
Kaley rolls her eyes. “Eric is not going to get upset. He’s not sick. He’s faking. He doesn’t want to go to some lame Royal Botanic Gardens any more than I do. Why can’t we just go to the beach?”
I look at Krystal. “Do you want to go to the Gardens?”
She nods, her eyes widening.
Damn, I think she means it. I’m with Kaley. I’d rather do the beach.
I smile. “It’s Krystal’s turn to pick. We’re doing the Gardens. I’ll be right back.”
Kaley flounces off and drops heavily onto a chair. Ah, she’s giving me that you’re ruining my life expression. Nice touch.
I climb into the elevator with Trey. When the metal doors open again, I say, “Hold the elevator here. I’ll be right back.”
I step inside my suite. Where is my phone? I start searching the sitting room. Nowhere. I go into my bedroom. Eric is asleep in my bed and my cell is on the night table. I grab the phone, shove it my pocket and touch his brow.
Faking my ass. His head is warm.
I go back to the sitting room. Where’s Linda? I check the kids’ rooms. She wouldn’t leave him alone and pop up to her room, would she?
“Chrissie—” Linda says from somewhere and my heart leaps. Is Chrissie here? “It’s going to be all right, baby girl. You need to stop worrying.”
I rapidly scan the room. The terrace doors are open. I move back the drape. Linda is sitting on a chair with her tablet on a table propped up in front of her.
Damn.
FaceTime.
My eyes lock on the screen.
“He hasn’t talked to me since he left California, Linda. He only texted once. In Mumbai. Now he doesn’t reply to me. Is he going to bring my kids back? Just tell me he’s bringing my kids home. That he’s not going to try to take them away from me and keep them.”
My heart clenches.
Fuck, Chrissie, how could you think that?
Baby, I could never hurt you that way.
Linda lets out a frustrated breath. “Christ, you don’t understand him at all. He was angry when he left. He has every right to be angry. He would never take your children from you, Chrissie.”
“How do you know that?”
God, she sounds so tired and worried.
Linda laughs. “You’re being ridiculous. I know that he’s not going to try to take them from you because I know him. This trip is good, Chrissie. It’s been a good thing. They’re doing well together.”
“Tell me he’ll bringing them home.”
“Fuck, I hate that you force me to violate the trust with one of you to remain friends with both of you. Yes, he’ll bring them home. He’ll bring himself home. Be smart, Chrissie. Let him do this. It’s been good for the kids. It’s good for him. You need to stop worrying. Haven’t you figured out yet that he loves you?”
I drop the drape and step away from the terrace doors. I cross to the chair and sit down. I put my head in my hands. This is not what I wanted. Chrissie is unhappy. The kids are unhappy. I’m unhappy.
No, Linda, you are wrong.
This is not good.
I text Trey and tell him to go back to the lobby and tell Mrs. Barton to take the kids to the gardens without me.
Linda steps through the terrace doors. Her lids fly wide. “What are you doing back?”
“I forgot my phone. Eric feels warm. I’m going to stay behind today, Linda. You can cut out. Thanks for offering to watch him.”
Her brow crinkles. “Are you OK?”
I feel like an asshole, Linda.
Like a world class bastard.
I smile. “I’m fine. Tired.”
I watch her leave. I set my cell phone on the arm of the chair, sit back and stare at the wall. I know what this agony in me is—I will never get through this, put everything behind me without her. And that’s what I want. The pain to go away. The pain she gave to me and is the only one who can make it go away.
I don’t know if she can say anything that helps this make sense for me.
I don’t know if there are words that bring forgiveness.
I don’t know what the after will be when I reach for her this time.
I only know I can’t keep on like this.
My phone beeps. Apprehensively I stare at it. I won’t find the composure to do the necessary next step forward from here, nope, not if I see a notification from her.
I need control.
Calm.
To collect myself if I’m going to call her.
And that’s what I want, to pick up that phone, call her, and just jump on the fucking next road from where we are now.
Beep.
Fuck.
I pick up my phone. My lips tighten with a flash of sudden emotion.
Krystal: ?????
Krystal: It won’t be fun without you. You promised.
Krystal: ; (
I press my middle finger and index into my eye. A soggy laugh rattles around in my chest.
Me: I’m talking to your mom.
A harmless lie. A half-truth. I’m preparing to call Chrissie, but I don’t need to tell a nine-year-old all that.
Krystal: ; )
My laughter comes harder then melts and I exhale. I feel drained. Weak. But in a good way. I hit the icon with Chrissie’s picture to call and put it on speaker.
Ring.
Ring.
My nerves grow tauter.
Fuck, baby, please answer.
I don’t know how I got to this point.
I don’t want to lose it.
Ring.
“Hello?”
My senses jump. My mouth puckers. I take a moment to steady myself.
“Hi, baby, are you OK?”
A long pause and something that sounds like a sniffed-back tear.
“I’m OK. But I’m better now.”
I fight not to break down. Her voice is calm, poised and loving, but it’s a façade because I’ve known exactly what’s going on inside her from the moment I saw her face on the tablet in front of Linda.
Emotional stamina.
Fuck, where does she get it?
I lean forward in the chair. “I don’t want to talk about anything that’s happened. Not yet. That’s not why I called.”
“Then we won’t talk.”
The silence between us grows heavy and excruciatingly uncomfortable. Fuck, I don’t know what to say. I’ve loved this woman half my life and I don’t know what to say to her.
“Are you doing all right, Alan?”
I sit up. “Good, actually. Tour’s been good. I think even the kids are having fun.”
She laughs.
I laugh.
The laughter chokes in my throat.
“I’m going to send them home, Chrissie.”
“I know, Alan. I know you’re going to.”
I exhale a ragged breath. “No. That’s not what I mean. We’ve made progress together, but I think it’s time they go back to California and be with you. You’re a good mother. They love you. They’re lucky to have you. And they need to be with you.”
More sniffs.
“No. You were right about this being something you needed to do with them. Don’t send them back until you’ve finished everything you need to.”
I change the subject. “How’s Khloe?”
A small laugh. “Marvelous. Can’t you tell by the pictures I send?”
I haven’t looked at a single text from her since Mumbai.
Fuck, that’s what she’s been sending me in the daily messages.
Pictures of Khloe.
“You can’t tell everything from a picture, Chrissie.”
Oh fuck. For some reason that comment makes me want to cry.
“I should let you go, Alan. I’m glad you called.”
I tense. No. No. No. I haven’t finished everything I need to say.
“Chrissie?”
Silence.
Oh fuck.
“Are you still there, baby?”
A choking sound likes she’s swallowing more tears.
“I’m here, Alan.”
“I know I promised never to do this—”
“—Oh, Alan. No confessions. I’m not strong enough to hear something I don’t want to know…”
My heart twists. She’s sobbing now. Fuck, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I say one cogent sentence without fucking it up?
“Chrissie? Stop crying, baby. I need to say this.”
It takes a few minutes for her to calm.
“Fine, Alan. I’m listening.”
I brush at my cheeks.
Fuck, tears.
But it feels good just to stop fighting and let everything inside me flow.
It’s pathetic.
I’m a fool.
I love her.
“Hop on a plane, baby. Now. Just come and be good to me.”
I click off the phone.
* * *
Sydney, Australia, three days later
I step into the sitting room. Ah, Mrs. Barton’s educational hour. Every kid has a pencil in hand and homework packet in front of them on the table. Nanny from hell sitting in a chair, staring at them. Contention vibe pulsing in the air. Brilliant, hopefully they are all too focused on other things to ask any questions.
I nervously check my watch. My pulse accelerates. It’s time to go. Shit, I’m breathless. I don’t even know if this is going to go well and she makes me breathless.
I stop at the table. “We all good here?”
The kids look up.
Kaley glares.
Krystal frowns. “Where are you going?”
I drop a kiss on the tops of the boys’ heads and then one on hers. “I have something I’ve got to do. A last-minute schedule change. Don’t wait up. I’m going to be late.”
Kaley’s eyes narrow.
I smile and turn to Mrs. Barton. “Things might run long. You probably shouldn’t expect me until after morning. Don’t go anywhere with the children. I want them in the room until I get back.”
I can feel Kaley’s stare. OK, that was mean. She’s old enough to read lots of bad thoughts about me into those sentences.
I shouldn’t have done that.
I should probably relent.
No, that would be a fucking disaster.
I’d ruin my date.
Oh well, they’ll figure it out in about five minutes all on their own when Lourdes steps through the door with Khloe, but by then I’ll be out of here without any of them latching onto me and demanding to go see their mother.
Ding. I look at my phone. A smile I can’t bite back surfaces.
I click off my phone and walk to the door.
I open it. “No fighting. No calling. No texting. Nothing. I don’t want to hear from any of you unless it’s a real emergency.”
Kaley’s black eyes simmer.
I meet her stare for stare.
Not explaining.
Not tonight.
I want out the door without them.
Fuck, I feel good. Nervous. A little scared. That thrill of anticipation. Oh, definitely— I cut off that thought. The kids are staring at me.
“Good night,” I say and hurry into the hallway.
Free at last.
I look at Trey. “Is she here yet?”
He holds the elevator door open for me. “About five minutes ago.”
My pulse jumps. My dick does a nice little twitch. As we ride one floor below, I stand back against the mirrored walls, breathing in and out slowly. I need to have iron emotional control. I can’t let her knock me off my feet. I can’t let her spin me with nonsensical drivel. I need to go only in the direction I am able and only as far as I feel capable of.
I can’t let it spin out of control.
Not now.
Not before we make it through this.
I don’t want to fuck up the forward motion.
Not now.
I step off the elevator and Trey escorts me to a corner suite. He slips in the card and opens the door.
“Wait here,” I tell him.
I step into the room.
I look around. Fuck, my pulse is jumping from adrenaline shooting through my veins.
Where is she?
I thought she was here.
Why does everything with Chrissie come with at least one dose of nerve stretching?
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I want to see her.
I want to know what it will feel like.
I need to know.
“What would be particularly foolish right now would be to remark on anything that’s happened and anything unkind we’ve said since we both know that neither of us intended any of that.”
I whirl to find Chrissie standing in the adjoining bedroom doorway.
The way those gorgeous blue eyes look at me takes my breath away.
“So let’s keep this simple, Alan. I’m here. You’re here and I love you.”
I stare at her.
My thoughts drift back through my life: to the painful parts, to the parts I did badly, to the parts where I loved and to the parts where I lost. There is finally calm in me for all that she’s done—and all that I’ve done. I regret none of it. I wouldn’t change a single part. I don’t know which part made me the man standing here with Chrissie at this moment. All the parts of my past have brought me to her, to this, to who I am now, and to this next chapter of loving her yet to be known.
Simple.
She’s right.
All we have to do is both step into the now.
“I love you, Chrissie.”
“I know, Alan, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
* * *
I lie in bed with Chrissie tucked into my side, her limbs draped across me, my arms around her, physically drained and emotionally full.
With my fingers I lightly stroke her spine and I feel her cheek start to brush lightly against my chest.
She laughs. “Last night was amazing, but we should probably go.”
I tighten my arms. “No, not ready yet.”
She kisses my chest and settles back against me.
We’ve not talked about anything. Not the things that have happened, but it doesn’t feel swept under the carpet, waiting for us, like it used to.
It feels swept away.
Irrelevant.
I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just because that’s how we want it to be. I shouldn’t ask. But this one I need to know.
I kiss her head. “Do you remember my party in New York?”
She doesn’t look up. She nods, her chin moving against me and the softness of her skin teasing my flesh.
“The reason you came. Was it to tell me about the girls being my daughters?”
She lifts her chin. Her eyes meet mine directly. She nods. I lightly caress her cheek.
“Why didn’t you?”
She gnaws her lower lip in that way she has when she’s searching for words. “It was clear in my head when I left California. But when I saw you everything inside me scattered like it always does. I wanted to tell you and I couldn’t. I wanted you and I couldn’t have you. Once I saw you I wasn’t sure I could fix what I’d done and not lose you and I wasn’t willing to risk it. I love you so much it makes me afraid that I’ll lose you.”
She settles back against me.
Why, Alan, does everyone I love leave me?
“Oh, baby, there is nothing you could do to make me leave you.”
Jack’s right. The answers are always simple if you let them be. I get it. No more questions. Let it rest, Alan. It doesn’t matter. You love her.
Out of nowhere, laughter bubbles upward. I try to fight it, but it pushes out stronger.
Chrissie’s face snaps up. “What?”
I can’t stop laughing.
Fuck, she’s going to get pissed if I say it.
Why does she have to stare at me with those eyes all confused and expectant?
I can’t look at her.
I close my lids.
Nope, not helping. The chuckles come louder. I can’t stop it.
“You came…to New York—” I choke out. “—to fix a problem…and you left creating two new ones. That’s so you, Chrissie.”
Oh fuck, I’m laughing like a madman. She’s going to be beyond pissed. She pulls from my arms and hits me with a pillow.
“That was mean, Alan.”
I laugh harder.
She hits me again.
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny,” she chides.
Good, she’s laughing, too. I spring up, grab her around the waist and lower her to the bed beneath me. I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing her humor, and fuck, I’m fully hard and pulsing again.
I start roaming her body with my kisses. My hands travel, lightly brushing her flesh. Her laughter melts down.
“Do you want to create more problems?”
Her eyes fly wide.
Exactly.
Too late now.
Whatever happens, happens.
I didn’t bring rubbers.
Neither did she.
I’m not cut. And I’m pretty certain birth control is still beyond manageable for Chrissie.
Fuck, I’m just going to enjoy being alone with her and worry later.
She groans. “Oh fuck, Alan.”
I sink myself deeply inside her. “I’m going to take that, Chrissie, as a yes.”
* * *
Mexico City, three months later
“Alan! Get in here. Now.”
I jerk awake.
Oh no, I know that tone of voice.
Oh please, don’t come in here and tell me you’re pregnant.
“I need to show you something. Darn it. It’s afternoon. Wake up. Why do I always have to come to you?”
I hear running footsteps and then I feel her in the room.
Grimacing and tense, I roll over in bed. Chrissie is holding a laptop. Not a stick from a test. Oh, thank you, God.
She stares at me, exasperated, from the open bedroom doorway. “Didn’t you tell Krystal not to lend her computer to Kaley?”
Oh fuck.
I sit up in bed. “I didn’t think of that. I didn’t think of cutting her data package and limiting the international airtime thing either.”
Chrissie plops down beside me, sets the computer in front of her and starts clicking away.
“What has she done now?” I ask as dread tightens every muscle in my gut.
She waves me off with a hand. “No. No. No. This is good. I want to show you this and then sneak it back into Krystal’s room so Kaley doesn’t know that we saw it.”
Not buying it. This will not be good, no matter what Chrissie thinks. Everything Kaley does digitally is an all-out nightmare.
Chrissie moves to sit between my legs, her ass brushing me there as she settles against me and sets the laptop on her thighs.
“Look, Alan. Look at what she’s been doing.”
She clicks on a video and hits play. Long and Hard: My Journey with My Father. Oh Christ, she’s got sixty minutes of video already cut into a documentary. Oh my. Photos and film. I don’t remember her taking those photos.
Oh fuck.
Tears.
Not again.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Chrissie whispers, overwhelmed. She starts to anxiously brush her cheeks. “This is good, Alan. Really good. This is how she sees you. Look at that photo of you with the boys.” She laughs. “You and Krystal. Oh gosh, look at us. God, I hope she shows me her photos of this trip. I want them. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Chrissie looks over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling, and my arms tighten around her. My chin rests on her shoulder. I can’t breathe. The emotion is just swallowing up all the oxygen the second I pull it into me.
When it’s over, Chrissie turns off the laptop and closes it. “Everything is going to be all right, Alan.”
I nod.
“Let me put this back in Krystal’s room before Lourdes returns with the kids.”
She springs from the bed and runs from the room. I lie back and close my eyes, trying to calm everything roiling through me. We are a long way, all of us, from where we were four months ago. It’s overwhelming at times. And yes, it was long and hard. But I think maybe we’re in light.
“I did something bad,” Chrissie says.
My eyes shoot open. Oh no, not now. I’m happy.
“What?”
She scrunches up her face. “Miles Abernathy sent the galley of your biography to the house for your approval. I didn’t tell you. I kept it. I read it, Alan.”
Oh fuck.
She drops it on my lap. Long and Hard—The Biography of Alan Manzone. What the hell is it about that song? Will all media creation about me forever and exclusively be that title?
I exhale. “How awful is it?”
Chrissie smiles. “It’s not awful at all. It is wonderful. I tucked it into Kaley’s suitcase before she left with you from California. I’m pretty sure she read it. Especially after seeing what she titled the documentary.”
Oh fuck.
Really, Chrissie?
I lie back on the bed, groaning. “Yep, give that to our daughter to read. Way to go, Chrissie. Way to be a team player.”
“Stop it,” she admonishes, lifting it from the bed.
Paper rustles.
Oh crud, she’s looking for something she wants me to read. I don’t want to read anything in this nightmare Miles Abernathy created.
I open my eyes and she shoves it at me. I drop it on the bed. I read the first paragraph and look up.
“How the fuck does Miles Abernathy know what happened in the nursery the first time I went in to meet Khloe?”
She bites her lower lip. She rolls her eyes and exhales.
“Jeez, Alan, I’ve got baby cameras in the nursery. When Miles called me wanting something for the chapter on Khloe, since that event happened after his meeting with you, I told him about that. How you were in the nursery with Khloe. I saw everything. When you picked her up. Sat on the bench. Held her.” She smiles. Her eyes shimmer more brightly. “When you cried. I never loved you more or more desperately wanted to be with you than at that moment. But it was enough I got to share it with you even if you didn’t know it. That’s when I knew we’d be OK.”
I stare at her.
“I love you, Chrissie.”
Her gorgeous blue eyes grow enormous in her face. “You are the most loving man I’ve ever known. I think it’s time, Alan, that you let people know it.”