by Mia Carson
She bit her tongue hard against the tears, but they slipped down her cheeks. “Please, not now.”
“Yes, now,” he insisted. “Tell me, for the love of God, what’s going on?”
You have to be strong, she told herself sternly. You have to be strong for both their sakes. No backing down. Just do it and get out of their lives before you screw anything up.
Squaring her shoulders and sniffing hard, she turned and looked him right in the eye. “I’m leaving, Stan.”
His face collapsed in a pale sheet of confusion, her hand slipping from his. “I don’t understand.”
“I think you do, more than you want to. Whatever this is… it’s risky. You and Louis have come far, but you still have so much further to go,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can’t be around to screw that up. I won’t be. It’s time for me to go.”
She held her breath as he opened his mouth. Please don’t say it, please don’t. You’ll only make this harder. I can’t stay…I can’t!
“Of course, if that’s what you want,” he whispered, his voice rough, brow wrinkled as if that was not what he wanted to say at all.
“It’s what’s best for you and Louis,” she insisted, telling herself repeatedly this was the right thing to do. “I let myself get too wrapped in your lives. This isn’t my place. You two need to figure out life on your own, so I’m leaving.” She picked up her purse off the entryway table. “I’ll send a truck for the rest of my things after the holidays if that’s all right.”
“You’re leaving right now? It’s midnight,” he argued.
“I think it’s best.” She glanced up the stairs. “Tell Louis I said goodbye. I’ll send him some fresh art supplies before too long.”
“Remy,” he whispered, licking his lips nervously. He reached out a hand for her, but it fell short and his shoulders sagged. “Enjoy your holiday with your family,” he finished lamely.
Her heart heaved in her chest, wanting to fall apart, but this was what was best for everyone. Well, at least for the man she loved and his son. That was more important. She stepped out into the cold of the night and called Callie as she walked to the end of the drive to stop the urge to run back inside and into his arms. By the time her friend pulled up to the drive, she was bawling her eyes out and babbling about what an idiot she was.
“Right, you need a drink,” Callie insisted. “Come with me, girlie. Let’s go wallow together.”
“Together? You and Matt?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“Yeah. Turns out you were right, but you can say ‘I told you so’ tomorrow.”
Remy laughed through her tears and rested her head against her friend’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to be right.”
“Neither did I. As much of a bitch I was the other day, I was really rooting for you. I just want you to be happy.” She sighed heavily and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “So, whiskey or tequila?”
“Tequila, please.” Remy shut her eyes and let the rocking of the car soothe her, but it would be a long time before she managed to forget Stanford Wellington and the life she had imagined with him and his son.
Stan stared at the front door as his heart broke in two. She was gone, just like that, gone because he was too much of a coward to open his damn mouth or risk anything.
“Where’s Remy going?”
“Louis,” Stan said, surprised, and wiped away the wetness on his cheeks. “I thought you were in bed, kiddo. She…uh, she had to go see her family.”
“I heard what she said,” Louis said plainly as he walked down the steps, still in his suit and tie.
“You did?”
He nodded his little head, his curly hair bobbing. “Yeah, I did, Dad. So why aren’t you going after her?”
“It’s complicated… wait, what did you say?”
Louis stepped off the stairs. “Dad. I called you Dad because that’s who you are.”
Stan sank to his knees and hugged Louis close, kissing the top of his head as Louis wrapped his tiny arms around his neck. “Oh, kiddo, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Doesn’t Remy make you happy, too?” he asked, confused.
“Well…yes, but it’s not an easy thing.”
“I heard what you told Aunt Sally before dinner. You love Remy, don’t you?”
Stan was tempted to deny it, but he couldn’t, not anymore. “I do. I love her very much.”
“I do too.” Louis frowned at the front door. “You remember during one of our talks with Dr. Price, you told him you regretted not telling Mom you loved her before she died?”
“I…I did say that.”
“So what are you doing?”
Stan shook his head. “What do you mean?’
“You love Remy, Dad. Why didn’t you tell her?”
He puffed out his cheeks and sat on the floor. “I was worried about you and me, about whether we were ready for that next step or not.”
“I think we are, and besides, Remy makes this place a home. The three of us together.”
“Yeah?”
Louis nodded smiling wide. “Yeah, she does. I want you to be happy, too, Dad. I know you loved Mom and we both miss her, but we have Remy, too. We need her here.”
“You are certainly wise beyond your years. I think you got that from your mom.”
“Probably,” he agreed and laughed when Stan tickled his sides. “So, are you going to go after her or what?”
“Not tonight,” he said and held up a hand when Louis started to argue. “But we will, Saturday. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right.”
Louis helped him back to his feet, and father and son walked up the steps, talking about their plan to win Remy back, the woman they both needed in their lives.
Remy tried being drunk all weekend, but Abbey and George wouldn’t allow it and told her by Saturday evening, she’d better be sober enough to sit at the table and eat dinner with them. Callie joined them, the rest of her family living across the country, but it was only the four of them. Not a very merry gathering, especially when Remy was still hurting over leaving the only man she ever loved.
During her drunken rant, she confessed to Callie how much she’d fallen for the damn man and how she hated herself for always trying to do the right thing and leaving. She loved him and here she was taking herself out of his life. The chances of her finding a man that could ever compare to Stan again were slim. Later, when she was alone, she realized Callie and her mom were to blame for some of it, both telling her she needed to find a life of her own. Well, she had done just that and look what happened? But that was simply putting the blame for her own actions on someone else. Her mind was jumbled and part of her wished she told the social worker to shove it. The other pictured Stan and Louis having the perfect father son relationship and being happy and she would remind herself she did the right thing.
She had enough money saved up. A month-long vacation sounded like a great idea. She could disappear. Not coming back sounded like an even greater idea, and she was halfway through packing a suitcase before she broke down in tears again. Her whole body ached as if she had been hit by a truck and it wasn’t from the drinking.
“Remy!” Abbey called up the stairs.
“I’ll be down in a minute, Mom,” she yelled back, dumping her suitcase out on the floor.
“This can’t wait a minute.”
Groaning in aggravation, Remy tossed her suitcase aside and marched out of her room. She ran down the stairs, muttering curses under her breath the entire way down. “What, Mom? I’m really not in the mood to do dinner, so maybe we can just—” She let out a startled yelp and froze, her hand to her chest.
“Told you it couldn’t wait,” Abbey said quietly, smiling from across the living room.
“What…what are you doing here?” Remy asked.
Stan cringed as he stepped closer. “I wasn’t ready to let you leave,” he told her.
“No, you can’t be here right now. I left so you could have your
chance with your son! If I come back I’ll just ruin everything,” she snapped, angry with him for ruining her perfect plan. “Just go, ok? You’re only making this harder and if your social worker finds out, then it will all be over because of me. You have to think of Louis. What’s best for him.” The words tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. “And you’re going to show up here and say what—you want me back as the nanny?”
“Nope,” a little voice said behind her, and Remy bit her lip as she spun around. “Hi, Remy.”
“Louis? What the hell is going on?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t repeat those words.”
He giggled. “We’re here because Dad loves you.”
“Louis,” Stan whispered, and Remy’s hand slipped from her mouth.
“He what?” she asked, not believing she’d heard Louis correctly. Don’t say it! You say it and I’ll never be able to leave you.
The little boy laughed as he took her hand and dragged her across the room to Stan. “He loves you. I heard him tell Aunt Sally, but he was too worried about me, just like you were.”
“Louis, I…uh… you talked to him about this?” she asked Stan.
He laced his fingers through hers with a chuckle. “Actually, he talked to me about it. Remy, I want you back—we both do—and not as the nanny, though I’m afraid I’m leaving you without a job.”
She laughed as tears fell from her eyes. “I think I’ll survive.”
He wiped her tears away gently with his thumb, letting his cane fall to the floor. “I love you, Remy. I should’ve told you every damn day.”
“Ditto,” she whispered. They hugged, him picking her up off her feet as her family and Louis whistled and cheered. He kissed her fiercely, dipping her low as she clung to his body. When he straightened, Louis hugged both of them around the middle. Remy laughed, shaking her head at Stan as she wrapped an arm around Louis. “You sure about this, kid?”
“Hell yeah,” he hollered, and she laughed as Stan scowled at him. “What? Heat of the moment, Dad.”
“Dad,” Remy repeated. “What about the social worker?”
“I’ll explain everything to her, don’t worry about it. So,” Stan said, clearing his throat. “I hope you don’t mind that we crashed your Thanksgiving.”
Abbey squealed in delight and rushed over to hug Stan. “Of course not. Make yourselves at home, both of you.”
Louis followed Abbey and George right into the kitchen, but Stan held Remy back. “You know, I thought I wouldn’t make it without you.”
“I was gone a day,” she said, laughing. “But same.”
He grinned and kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Remy. Don’t leave again, ever. Yell at me, scream at me, but please don’t leave me.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal. No more secrets,” she promised. “I love you, too.”
They walked hand in hand to join her parents, and her new family, to enjoy a second Thanksgiving dinner. In that moment, she was truly thankful for the two new men in her life.
Christmas Morning, One Year Later
“Here she comes,” Louis hissed to Stan. He adjusted the two packages on the coffee table as Louis ran back into the living room.
“Well, hello,” she said through a yawn, wrapping her fluffy purple robe around her body. “You haven’t opened any of your presents yet?”
“We were waiting for you,” Louis said.
“Is that right?” She sat down on the couch, tucking her feet up beneath her. “Well, go ahead, I’m here. Have at it.”
Louis and Stan exchanged a glance. “We thought we’d do things differently this year,” he said and picked up the small box on the table while Louis picked up the slim package.
Remy’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on with you two this morning?”
Louis nudged his dad closer, and Stan cleared his throat, his hands trembling as he moved to stand in front of Remy. His stomach in knots and heart thundering in his chest, he held out the small box wrapped in red and silver paper. “This one’s from me,” he told her.
Cautiously, Remy held out her hand and took it. “Stan?”
“No hints, just open it!” Louis exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
He and Stan had planned this for nearly two months, and now that the moment was finally here, Stan could hardly stand to wait. He was sure he already knew the answer, but his nerves got the better of him all the same. Remy tore at the paper to reveal a black velvet box.
“Stan,” she whispered on a breath, sitting up straighter.
“Open it,” he urged.
Her eyes wide, she did as he said and gasped. “Oh, my God.”
Stan took the box from her and pulled out the silver and diamond ring. He fell to one knee before her and took her left hand in his. “Remy, you’ve changed my life—our lives—for the better. Marry me? Make this family official?”
She nodded, and he slipped the ring onto her finger. She tackled him in a hug, taking him to the floor with her kiss. Louis cleared his throat loudly until she stopped. Stan helped her sit up.
“Sorry, kiddo,” Stan said. “Your turn.”
“His turn?” Remy asked, confused, as Louis held out the slim package to her. He didn’t say a word, but his smile widened as much as it could. She tore at the packaging to find a skinny, flat box. Remy shook it, sniffed it, and did everything to it before Louis groaned and told her to open it. “All right, I’m doing it,” she said through her laughter and pulled the top off the box. Her eyes narrowed at what lay inside before they filled with tears. “Louis?”
Tears filled his eyes too as he clasped his hands behind his back. “So? Will you?”
“You…you want me to adopt you?” she asked.
He nodded, and she dragged him into a bear hug, kissing the top of his head as they cried together. Stan wrapped them both in his arms, hugging the family he never thought he would have.
“I guess we have a wedding to plan,” Remy said when she pulled back, kissing first Stan’s cheek and then Louis’. “At least I know a good florist.”
Stan chuckled in agreement. “All right, Louis, have at it.”
As Louis opened his presents, Remy and Stan watched, curled up together on the couch while Remy admired her ring. Stan sighed, content with his life and the path it took. He stared past Louis and out the window to the wire sculpture Remy had finally finished when she officially moved back in with him and Louis, and not as the nanny.
The three figures created by twisting wires was the most precious thing he owned now. The male figure in the back stood tall and strong while the woman rested against his chest, and before them both was the figure of a child, probably around the age of ten. Wings encompassed the three of them, keeping them safe and together. The longer he stared, the sooner he saw the white flakes drifting in front of the sculpture.
“Louis, look,” he said, and Louis glanced out the window.
“Snow!” He rushed to his feet and sprinted to get outside in his slippers and robe.
Stan and Remy followed as the snow came down heavily over the hibernating gardens, the tree branches, and the greenhouse roof in the distance. Before long, there was enough for snowballs, and they spent the morning flinging snow at each other and laughing, falling in a heap to the ground. Stan hugged them both close, promising without words to never let go.
FAKE MARRIAGE
FAKE MARRIAGE
Chapter 1
“Wait up, Blair!”
“Come on, Hugh! You’re too slow!” the little girl called back over her shoulder, racing her best friend through the stables. “I’m gonna win!”
“Not this time,” he grunted as he hurried to catch up.
The kids ran past stalls filled with horses, trainers, and caretakers, all of whom smiled at the children who spent most of their childhood here. Blair Fraser, the little girl, was the daughter of the man who owned this stable and currently raced some of the most prized horses
in Louisville, Kentucky. The boy racing to catch up was Hugh Gordie, son of another family with a big name in the city. The parents were having lunch somewhere near the stables, giving the children a chance to run and play chase.
Blair rounded the corner and slipped in the dirt, falling to her hands with an oomph. Hugh rushed past her but whirled around and hurried back to her side.
“You ruined your chance,” Blair argued as he held out his hand for hers.
He hauled her up and helped brush dust from her new sky-blue dress. “Your mom’s going to kill us for getting dirty.”
“Probably,” she agreed with a giggle, shoving her blonde curls from her face.
Hugh offered her his hand and she clasped it tightly. They took off again, running side by side as they exited the stables, and finally reached the edge of the practice track where several horses were trotting by. They hung on the bars, staring wide-eyed at the great big beasts. Blair’s eyes widened as they moved past, their great big bodies fascinating her. She’d left her polaroid at the house and huffed in annoyance at herself. Her room was littered with photographs, polaroid pictures of things she liked but mostly of her and Hugh.
“You know, when we get older and get married, you should let me win a race,” Hugh told her.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“I don’t know. I think it’d be a nice thing for you to do.”
Blair stuck her tongue out at him, and he tickled her sides as she hollered with laughter. “I guess I could be a nice wife for you. But you have to be nice to me, too.”
“Duh,” he replied as if that was the dumbest thing in the world for her to say.
Blair grinned and leaned into his side. “We’re best friends, right, Hugh?”
“Yeah, always.”
“Good,” she stated and watched as another large black horse galloped down the track. “What do you think it’ll be like when we’re grown up? Will we be boring?”
“Nah, we’ll be fun, like we are now.”
