It’d been the longest weekend with Lexi of my life.
Not because I didn’t like the time I’d spent with her or because she’d been any less amusing in every aspect of her day, but because I’d texted Charlotte what felt like forty-five times and only gotten five in return—quite brusque in nature, at that—and every time I’d attempted to call, she’d declined to answer.
So, as soon as I’d dropped Lexi off, I’d gone right to Moon Grill and gotten the biggest tub of chicken noodle soup they sold, and then come straight to Chinatown to the shitty apartment Charlotte was still living in, thanks to Harry and Doreen. She’d yet to work up the courage to kick them out.
I didn’t blame her. They were about the nicest people on the planet, and if I owned the house, I’d probably just wait them out until they died. Unless they made a bid to become the oldest people on the planet, it’d be within a decade.
“Charlotte,” I called, knocking on the door for the second time since I’d arrived. I could hear her moving around inside, but she’d yet to say anything—or make her way to the door—and I was officially starting to worry.
“Come on, Char. Open up, please.”
When she finally opened the door thirty seconds later, my whole world collapsed.
Tearstained and mottled red, her skin looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her eyes were swollen, their sea-blue color a muddy lake water color, and she couldn’t even look me in the eye.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, rushing inside and taking her back with me until the sound of the door slamming rang out behind me. “What happened, baby? Are you okay?”
She bit her lip, and her crying renewed, two fresh tears cutting edgy tracks down her tortured skin.
“Sweet Jesus, Char. Calm down. Tell me what I can do. Are you just sick?”
She shook her head and collapsed to the couch, so I set the soup recklessly on the coffee table and followed her down, framing her jaw with my hands until her wet eyes met mine again.
“I just…I can’t believe this is happening. Three days to think it through, and I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“This? What is this? Help me out here, sweetheart.”
She took a deep, shaky breath and shrugged my hands off her jaw. Her energy was palpable as she jumped up from the couch again and started to pace like a lion in the zoo. I followed her every move as she worked up the courage to get started.
“Oh God. I can’t believe this. I just can’t—”
“Charlotte,” I said her name in an attempt to redirect her. She was all over the place, and I really needed clear, concise answers. My mind was beginning to get the best of me, and only worst-case scenarios were filling my thoughts.
“Okay,” she proclaimed, clenching her fists and turning toward me, her every facet an absolute mess. “You know how I told you about leaving a guy at the altar?”
My eyebrows pulled together, and she snapped, “At trivia night!”
“I know,” I consoled. “I’m just confused about the direction of this conversation. But I’m sorry, go on.”
“Well, apparently, you know him. Apparently, you know him well.”
“I know him?” I asked, mystified. “I don’t even have any friends outside of my daughter and work.” I chuckled. “How could I know him?”
“Because it’s Remy.”
“What’s Remy?” I asked like an idiot, completely unwilling to entertain any logical possibility.
She nearly crumpled, her eyes closing as fresh tears ran down her face and her body curling into itself shakily. “The guy. The guy I left the night before our wedding when I was twenty-two years old. The guy who’s your daughter’s uncle. The guy who hates me more than anyone has ever hated me and would never, ever be okay with me dating you.”
Words had left me, shock taking root at my throat and making speech impossible.
Once nausea replaced the shock, I jumped from the couch, feeling sickness climb the column of my throat so convincingly, I ran for the bathroom. I was hunched over the toilet when Charlotte made it to the door.
Seeing me like that only made it worse.
“I’m sorry. God, Nick, I had no idea. I didn’t know Lexi’s mom was Winnie until you said it Friday night, and even then, I hoped I was wrong. But when you said you had to pick her up from Remy’s, I couldn’t pretend it was all a big coincidence anymore. And I couldn’t face you.”
She sobbed, big and body-racking. “I couldn’t meet Lexi knowing what I knew then.”
Convinced no actual vomit was going to make it out of my mouth, I fell back from my position over the toilet, lifted my knees, and put my back to the wall.
Charlotte sank to her knees in front of me.
“I can’t believe this is happening. Thirty-four fucking years of my life, and I’m finally happy, like fucking deliriously happy, and my biggest mistake comes back to haunt me.”
I heard her talking, saw the tears as they ran down her cheeks, but I could only think of a single word.
Lexi.
The center of my world and one of the smartest girls on the planet—and the most important factor, an uncle-worshiping niece. She loved Remy to her core, and he loved her the very same.
He wasn’t a member of the family we saw on occasion or the kind of guy who forgave and forgot without pause. He was a stubborn staple of our lives, and he’d had his heart broken twelve years ago by the woman I was now in love with.
I didn’t think that was something people got over, looked past—learned to love. Especially not for a guy they only tolerated to begin with.
Because that was the impossible reality I really wanted, right? To have Charlotte be a part of our mixed lives. Dinner dates with Winnie and Wes, and family barbeques where Lexi could be immersed in a world with all the people she loved.
Three words distorted my pleasant visualization, and they weren’t distorted at all: Not fucking likely.
“Char…”
“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice a tortured shell of itself.
It felt like glass had shattered in my throat as I forced the words out. “I left when Winnie was pregnant with Lexi. I sent money, worked my ass off to provide them financial stability, and I called on occasion, but I was a shitty fucking father. Winnie decides when I see Lexi and when I don’t, and Remy already strongly dislikes me at best. I can’t…”
She nodded, sinking to her own ass and putting her face in her hands.
I moved to her slowly, carefully, and lifted her up to settle her ass into my lap. She turned her face into my throat and sobbed. I hugged her tight, tighter than I ever had before and forced myself to say the words even though I didn’t want to. “I can’t risk it.”
The only problem, my subconscious whispered, is that, thanks to the cameras, you probably already have.
Fucking fuuuuck.