Fucked up is more like it, but I am trying to sound classy and professional.
She points at my belly and yells, “He’s going to leave you, and your kid will never have a father. No one will love him.”
“I might fuck up in a lot of ways as a father,” Nate says with a calm voice. His thumb caresses the tattoo on my wrist. “But our baby will always know how much I love her. She might fear me when she breaks curfew, but she’ll never doubt that we adore her and will do anything for her.”
Words are being said, but my mind is frozen as it keeps analyzing what Nate just said. He loves my baby.
Our baby.
“Callum…he skips child support,” she complains.
“You can get a lawyer to help you with that,” I suggest.
“Well, my lawyer will be busy fighting for the house,” she presses.
“Actually,” I stop her, ready to bullshit her with my words. “I wouldn’t do that because then you’ll piss me off, and I’ll be demanding you to pay for the five years you lived in that house—rent-free. Not sure how good you are at math, but we’re talking about a property that can lease as low as five thousand dollars and as high as…well, I’m sure you know how much you can charge. That times seventy-two, plus the interest accumulated for all the years you missed paying rent…”
“Who are you?”
“I could be many things, like an advocate for your child seeking child support from his real father, or your worst nightmare if you try to screw with Nate.”
“We could work things out,” she begs Nate. “You said you’d love me. Forever.”
He turns to look at me and says, “You can see her, can’t you?”
“She’s not your type,” she presses. “This woman looks like she can recite the Constitution if I provoke her.”
He grins, “And in seven languages.”
I glance at her. She’s wearing a pair of shoes that Persy just posted on her blog. They cost more than a thousand dollars. They are almost brand new, and I doubt there’s a knock off style out yet.
“We’re going to have our P.I. investigate your son’s father to see how much we can get for child support,” I throw a little fib. “I can get you a good lawyer to—”
“That’s not necessary,” she interrupts me. “I can figure that out for myself.”
“Leasing out a property that doesn’t belong to you is illegal,” I throw another fact. “Just food for thought in case we feel like visiting you soon and we find out that it’s being occupied by another family.”
“Time for you to go,” Nate prompts her. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”
He presses a kiss on top of my head and whispers. “I'll be right back.”
I stare at him suspiciously as he steps into the elevator with her.
Thirty-Seven
Nate
“So, you live with her?” she asks.
“This has to end, Bronwyn,” I request. “You need to stop mailing me pictures, handmade crafts, and updates. You made your choice. You’re exploiting your kid, for what?”
“You never looked at me the way you look at her,” she argues, her voice even sounds like an accusation. “When you found out I was pregnant, you proposed to me, but you never asked me to live with you. Mom is the one who said I should move in with you. It never came from you.”
“My feelings for Nyx are not of your concern. My feelings for you were never your concern,” I say, firmly. “Maybe I made a mistake by letting you come into our house. You upset her and probably my baby.”
“You’re going to have a baby,” she mumbles. “It’s like I thought you’d never get past what we had. I had the option available, and now...”
“But you never did,” I claim. “The moment you played with me, you lost my trust.”
“But you love me,” she insists, the purr in her voice is fucking annoying. When did I find that enticing?
“No, I loved you once, and that died long ago.”
And it was nothing compared to what I feel for Nyx. I don’t tell her that because what is the point of even sharing what I haven’t shared with the woman I love.
I held onto that memory because it’s easier to pretend that something is there than create a new opportunity.
Until, unexpectedly, Nyx walked into my life.
“What about Wyatt?”
“I’m still mad at you for the shit you pulled. It’s still painful, but I understand he’s not mine to take care of,” I clarify. “Marcia has orders to stop any packages coming from you and return them.”
“This can’t be the end?” she insists as the elevator reaches the lobby and the doors slide open.
“No, the end was years ago. Now I have to ask, why not break up with me when you fell in love with Callum?”
“I cared for you,” she answers. “I cared for both of you.”
“Did you ever love either one of us?”
“I loved the attention you gave me. No one has ever been so attentive, and our dates were always in places that I could only dream of going to…you were thrilling.”
Sounds like you had a fun toy until you got bored. Thank you for at least being honest. I keep that thought to myself. Fatigue suddenly hits me, like the kind that takes over when I work for days without sleep. I’m done. I have time to finally recover.
“I wish I had done everything differently,” she states.
“This is your chance to do it. Be the best mom Wyatt deserves. Push the father to support him if what you said upstairs is, in fact, the truth. If not, try being honest. I’m fucking tired of your lies.”
She opens her mouth, closes it, then finally asks, “If I had handled it differently?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I had told you I wasn’t sure about who the father was?”
She really thinks that I would’ve been fine with her cheating.
“We’ll never know, Bronwyn.” I show her my wrist. “Life is a choice.”
“You’re a great guy. I hope she knows it.”
When I come upstairs, Nyx is staring at me. Her lip quivers.
“You okay?”
She chews on her lip and nods, but fuck if my heart isn’t breaking because I know this face. “What’s going on?”
“You said you love her?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
She puts a hand on her baby bump and says, “You said you love our baby. You called her yours.”
“Of course, I do. I adore our little blueberry demon.” And damn fucking Bronwyn for ruining everything. This is a conversation for later. “No matter what happens between us, I hope you let me be a part of her life.”
Her lip trembles faster.
“You’re going to cry, aren’t you?”
She chews on her lip and nods.
I smile and take her in my arms. “Come here. Thank you for whatever happened earlier. I could’ve taken her, but your legal retort was pretty hot.”
“If Edward would just sign the papers or tell me what it is that he plans,” she mumbles against my shirt. “I feel like that’s what keeps us from…talking.”
The results of the paternity test came back a couple of weeks ago. He’s not excluded from being the biological father of the blueberry demon. There was never any doubt. Now, he’s refusing to relinquish his rights until he is sure that he doesn’t want the kid. The fucker is playing mind games with Nyx. And there’s nothing we can do to force him to sign. Unless my P.I. finds some dirty secret that can give us the advantage, we might have to wait until the baby is born to fight him for custody.
“So, this is the plan,” I tell her. “We have the sonogram on Monday, then leave for Colorado right after. We’re spending the week with your family. We can pencil in a long, adult conversation for one of those days.”
She frowns and looks up at me, “I have work to do.”
“Remember I told you to take the week off and that we’d be going home for the week of the twenty-ninth?”
“Pers
y’s birthday,” she mumbles.
“We’ll be there, okay?” I assure her, not giving away what is happening this upcoming Tuesday.
Ford is proposing to Persy. He wants us to be close by to celebrate with them. He knows Persy would want Nyx to be there.
“Then we’ll have an adult conversation,” she concludes.
“Exactly!”
The weekend goes by fast, and on Monday, Nyx and I are wired up about the baby. I’m grateful that Marcia got us the seven a.m. spot. That way, we don’t have to wait long, plus we can leave for Colorado right after. It is exactly seven twenty-two when we find out that Nyx is having a baby girl.
“She’s perfect,” I say staring at the pictures. “Can you see her smile?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she corrects me. “She’s sleeping because, as we know, she loves to keep me up puking all night.”
Nyx stares at her belly and says, “They said it’d stop at twelve weeks. You’re almost at seventeen. This is a borderline tantrum, young lady.”
I laugh and place a hand on her bump. “Don’t upset my girl.”
She looks at me with adoration. “She needs a name.”
“We have time,” I wave her off as we arrive at the airport.
“No, we don’t. My parents are going to shove a bunch of lists at me, and then I’ll be too confused to make an educated decision.”
As we board the plane, I lift her chin and kiss her lips. “I’ll make sure to keep you grounded. Though as a reminder, you’re pretty strong at using the word no and ignoring them. Don’t rush something as important as a name, okay?”
“Where’s Brock?” she asks looking around.
“D is running behind. Don’t worry. We won’t take off without them, okay?”
Thirty-Eight
Nyx
When I board the plane to Colorado, I don’t know what to expect. I imagine Nate will be going to his penthouse and I’ll be staying at my parents. Persy and Ford are moving into their new house this weekend.
However, almost six hours later, I find myself in front of my house. The one that, according to the documents I signed last month, was sold to a management company.
“What are we doing here?”
“Well, Ford and Persy have a mess at their places since they are packing,” he explains. “I doubt you want to be at your parents’. If we stay at a hotel—”
“Cut the crap, Chadwick,” I protest. “Did you buy my house?”
“My management company did.”
“Same dog, different trick,” I protest. “This is unacceptable.”
“You haven’t chosen a house. We need a place to stay,” he concludes.
“We can stay at my parents’,” I remind him.
He laughs hard. “And find them fucking in the middle of the hallway? Nope. I like them, but not that much.”
I stare at him, and even though I want to be upset, I’m not. For the first time, I can see myself with someone. Nathaniel Chadwick. He doesn’t care that I’m weird sometimes. He doesn’t mind my family—they are a handful. He is okay with my lists and my plans and even finds them endearing and brilliant. He loves my baby—also calls her ours. He likes to take care of me, and I don’t mind letting him. Actually, I love it.
Starting a fight because he makes rash decisions isn’t worth it. I’ll probably give him a hard time later. Not today.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
That I might love you and I want you to kiss me without restraining yourself as you do every night before I fall asleep in your arms. I want your spark to ignite me. To burn me so deep that your soul will be seared into mine. I want us to absorb each other. For you to love me recklessly. To kiss with the intention of never letting you go.
“Saturday feels too far away,” I confess.
“Yet, we’re going to have to wait,” he says. “Ford needs me to help him install some stuff in the new house. I also want you to check out a couple of properties that are close by.
“Are you planning on moving to Colorado?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “For the next couple of years, I can’t do it full time, babe. I need you to think about that little piece of information. All I can offer is bringing you to your family often. Moving the entire company is impossible.”
I adore my family, but I wouldn’t care where I live as long as I’m with him. The thought surprises me and yet, fills me with so much hope. The hope that maybe this is exactly where I belong, with him.
“Part of our adult conversation?” I ask.
He nods. “I have to run to Ford’s. Your car is in the garage. The furniture is back the way D found it. We have a lot to sort out, but I hope that you want to solve this with me.”
I feel like he dumped the pieces of a puzzle on a table and wants me to assemble them or just forget about the puzzle—and him. To move on with my life and leave him behind.
Is he scared that this isn’t permanent?
“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for a response. “Would you take me if I didn’t have a penny to my name?”
“That sounds like a question for Friday,” I answer, but he’s actually responding to my silent question. “You’re trying to figure out if I’m going to choose my family over you, aren’t you?”
I stare at him, barely breathing.
“No, I don’t want you to choose. I just want to know what you need, because I don’t want you to leave me.” His voice is almost cracking.
“First of all, I need you to trust me that I am not with you because you can just buy a house within a day. I don’t care about your checkbook. I can make it on my own. If you lose everything today, we will start together from the ground up working side by side to build our future,” I clarify. “Also, you have to trust that when I decide to say, ‘I’m in,’ I won’t leave you. I’m me. Not your mother, Bronwyn, or any other woman. I need to figure out what is going to happen with Edward before I can make a decision about my future.”
He nods. “Just to recap, I stopped loving Bronwyn years ago. What I feel for you is a trillion times bigger than what I felt for her. You have all the time in the world. However…I need you to keep me in the loop.”
We kiss briefly before he leaves, and I make my way into the house with Brock by my side.
As Nate mentioned, nothing has changed. Except, the place doesn’t feel like mine anymore. There are flowers all around, just the way we have them at his place. It’s something I recommended a couple of months back, mentioning that they’d bring happiness into his home.
Taking a deep breath, I call Edward.
“I told you I need time,” he snaps when he answers the phone.
“This isn’t a game, Edward,” I say. “Meet me at my house in thirty minutes.”
“I thought you were in New York, being Pierce’s bitch,” he says in a snarky tone.
“Listen, you either control your language or we’re going to have a problem,” I warn him. “The only thing I’m requesting is for you to relinquish the parental rights of a child you obviously don’t care about.”
“I care so much that I’m working with a family lawyer to ensure that you come back to this state where I can make sure my kid is safe,” he threatens me. “I am ready to fight for full custody of my son.”
“It’s a girl,” I announce without mentioning that he can’t file for custody until the baby is born.
“What the fuck?” he growls. “There are no girls in my family. We all are boys. You need to get a real test. Just know that from now on, things will be done my way. You’ll go to the doctor I assign and stay in the state so I can see to my kid.”
“You need to lower your voice,” I demand. “You want to do this the hard way. I’m ready for it. Just know that when this is over and done with, there’ll be a restraining order against you. You won’t be able to approach us.”
He hangs up on me, and I email Pierce right away.
I spend the rest of the week wi
th my family. Ford proposes to Persy on Tuesday. We celebrate her birthday on Thursday. My parents are excited because I have my house back. I don’t have the heart to tell them that it’s Nate’s and not mine. That I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with my future because the last few months with Nate have been the best months of my life.
Yet, I don’t know what we’re doing because Edward might be trying to do something stupid. I’ve worked for the Bryants. I know what they are capable of doing, and they have connections.
By Friday, I’m emotionally exhausted. I want to stop time because I have an adult conversation scheduled. I’m dreading it, and not because I don’t want Nate and me to exchange the words that we’ve been harboring from one another.
I feel like I’m going to say, “Well, I love you, but…I’m in the middle of a legal battle.”
Pierce reminded me of something I’ve been thinking about since my bitter call with Edward. His family knows a lot of family judges, and with a good bribe, they can keep me in Colorado until the baby is born. In theory, the fetus can’t be treated like a child for the purpose of a custody battle. However, there’s a document I provided that reads the probability of paternity is 99.9999%.
My mind keeps running scenarios about my girl’s future all night, and around five in the morning, I get out of bed. I prepare myself some tea and turn on my computer, trying to find a good family lawyer in case I need one. I keep flipping back to the cases I worked on while working for Bryant, LLP. This feels like karma. All the mothers and fathers who relinquish the custody of their children because of me are claiming revenge. This is how I pay for the wrongdoing. I place a hand on my belly and send a prayer that my fears are unfounded.
“You’re awake,” Nate comes out of his bedroom and looks at the time on the microwave. “Wait. You slept through the night?
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 23
