by Gina Azzi
I roll my eyes, not wanting to take a trip down memory lane. “What do you want?”
“Always so impatient.” He clucks his tongue. “You know it was never going to work between you and the lawyer, don’t you? He’s way out of your league, baby. And even if he wasn’t, he’s too fucked up for you. Still pining for his ex-wife, still wishing for the mother of his son. If you didn’t end it now, it would have ended eventually, and by then, your heart would have been shattered instead of cracked. I don’t want that for you, Charlotte. I told you all of this years ago and yet…you ignored my warnings.”
“Cut the shit, Frankie. You don’t care one way or the other what kind of condition my heart’s in,” I bite out, hating him for what he made me do and then hating him even more for hitting so close to my insecurities. Did Evan compare me to Sophie? Does he wish for her back, the way she used to be? My heart thuds and my temples pound. I’m tired and way too emotionally drained to think rationally, especially where Evan’s concerned. Right now, I just have to get through this conversation without showing Frankie that he still—even after all this time—gets under my skin.
“Charlotte.” He softens his voice and reaches across the table. His hand wraps around my wrist, and for an instant, I don’t see his fingers but Evan’s. I don’t feel Frankie’s impersonal touch but Evan’s compassionate one. My throat burns with unshed tears, and I silently curse myself for being so easy to read.
So easy to manipulate.
“Of course I care.” Frankie’s tone is low. He dips his head to catch my eyes, and I stare back, imagining myself in the reflection of his irises. Seeing myself as Frankie must: weak, vulnerable, and stupid.
Stupid, silly girl.
“What do you want?” I bite out for the third time, yanking my wrist out of his hold.
In a flash, his eyes harden, and he drops all pretenses. Ah, this is the Frankie I know.
I widen my eyes at him. “I did what you wanted. So why the hell am I here?”
“You did a good job. Played your role well. Now that Evan knows he’ll never have you, I’ll uphold my end of the bargain. Sophie is set to check-in to rehab on Monday, all expenses paid. It’s a three-month inpatient program and one of the best in Illinois.”
“Good.” I nod, happy that at least Ollie will have the opportunity to get to know his real mother, the one who isn’t high most of the time and kept that way by Frankie and the network of pimps he controls. “And when she’s finished with rehab, you won’t come around. You won’t entice her or mess with her head. If she contacts you, you’ll cut her off.”
Frankie lifts a heavy eyebrow. “Look at you, trying to set conditions.”
“I want an answer, Frankie.”
He sighs, giving a curt nod. “Fine.”
“So that’s it? I walk away from Evan, and you help Sophie get and stay clean? Give her a real chance at family and being a mom to her son?”
Frankie drums his fingers on the tabletop. “That’s it.”
“What the hell are you getting out of this? Seems like a big cost and a lot of energy with no real reward.” Frankie doesn’t do anything that doesn’t serve his interests.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweet Charlotte. First off, your lawyer pissed me off by not representing me. That was a stupid decision and a mistake on his part. Secondly, well, there’s you. I know you’ll never truly be mine, not the way I want.” He leans closer and I back away. “But neither will any of the fools in this city have you. I won’t have you parade around Chicago on another man’s arm. So the gain, in this case, is purely personal. My grudge against Evan’s disrespect. My peace of mind where you’re concerned. My happiness.”
“At the expense of mine?” I throw out.
He shrugs. “There are always winners and there are always losers, Charlotte. Better luck next time.”
Huffing, I stand from the picnic table. “Good-bye Frankie.”
“Charlotte?” he calls after me.
I stop but don’t turn around.
“Will you stay here?” he asks, and still I hear the glimmer of hope in his tone.
“No.” I won’t stay here. Not because Frankie makes my future in Chicago look bleak, but because my heart aches too much over losing Evan.
For the first time since I landed back in Chicago, I’m desperate to be free of her.
“I love the green. What shade is this?” Zoe asks as I pass her the paint sample.
“Dusty sage.”
“It’s soothing.”
I angle the paint chip by the window to see it in different lighting. “It is, isn’t it? This will look nice with soft blues or with a sweet peach. You’re definitely not finding out the gender?” I glance at Zoe.
She places both palms on her basketball belly and shakes her head. “Nah, I want to be surprised.”
“Okay.” I lament the fact that I won’t be able to choose a soft blue or a sweet peach at this point in time. “We can go with a gender-neutral beige or yellow.”
Zoe laughs and eases her body onto a rocking chair in the new baby’s nursery. “Show me what you got.”
As I rummage through my bag for material samples and textures, I feel Zoe’s eyes on me. “What?” I ask without looking up.
“We’re seriously not going to talk about it?”
I look up. “What’s there to say?”
“Um, how about…how are you feeling, Charlie?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Tired.”
Zoe frowns. “How are you feeling about Evan?”
“Sad.”
“Charlie.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes, even though my heart isn’t in the eye roll. “I miss him.” My voice cracks, and Zoe and I both wince.
“I’m sorry.”
“I am, too. This just sucks. The whole thing. I didn’t even want to move back here. No offense.” I add at her expression. She shrugs. “I was happy in New York. I was making a life in New York. Even though Evan told me to do me and he’d make it work, I’d be lying if a part of me didn’t consider coming home. What if I landed a job here? Then Evan and I would both base our careers in Chicago, near Ollie’s school. It was a stupid thought that flickered into a whole slew of mental plans and now…”
“Don’t let Frankie get in your head, Charlie. I know he’s a big presence, but Chicago is a big city.”
“It’s not just that. It’s, well, it’s everything. I don’t want to give up on my dreams, on New York, for a man who’s getting swept up in his ex-wife’s emotional baggage.” Frankie’s words flicker through my mind. Was Evan wishing for Sophie when he was with me? Do I even measure up to the woman he once married and committed to?
“Evan’s not hung up on Sophie.”
“He still lives in the home she picked,” I point out.
“It’s Ollie’s childhood home.” Zoe frowns. “Where is this coming from?”
I shake my head. “Something Frankie said.”
“Frankie! Since when do you take anything that comes out of his mouth seriously?”
“I don’t know.” I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. “To tell you the truth, my head is all over the place. I feel heartsick. I’m tired. I’m angry. I’m confused as hell. Oh, and I’m also unemployed.”
Zoe’s expression softens as she takes me in, sitting in a heap in the center of her baby’s nursery. “What do you need, Charlie?”
I hold up fistfuls of material swatches. “To be distracted. Let’s not talk about Frankie or Evan. Or Sophie. Let’s just, lose ourselves in designing this baby’s nursery.”
“Okay.”
“You agreed too easily,” I accuse her.
She snickers, shaking her head at me. “I hate seeing you like this, all twisted up and unsure of yourself.” She holds up a hand, halting the words on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t think you’re making the right decision. I think you should be honest with Evan, about Sophie and about Frankie’s role in her homecoming.”
I shrug, not wanting to e
xplain again that Ollie deserves this chance. He deserves this time with his mom.
“But,” Zoe continues, “I respect it. I know your heart’s in the right place. So, I’ll drop the topic. For now.”
“Thank you.” I smile gratefully as my phone beeps.
Trent: Mitchell and Murphy just posted two new positions. APPLY NOW. GET YOUR ASS BACK TO NYC.
I chuckle.
“Who is it?” Zoe asks.
I hold up my phone, and she squints to read the message.
“Are you going to apply?”
I bite my bottom lip, tapping out a thank you to Trent. “It can’t hurt, right?”
“Definitely can’t hurt,” Zoe agrees.
21
Evan
Sophie’s thinner. Not just her frame but everything about her is thinner. Delicate. Her hair. Her skin. Even her energy. It’s as if she could evaporate into the air at any moment, and no one would know she disappeared.
The thought depresses me as I set down two coffees and a couple of croissants on a table and slide into the seat across from her.
“Thank you for meeting me,” she says. Her fingers tremble as she reaches for a piece of croissant.
I nod, clearing my throat. It’s hard to look directly at her and see the shell of the woman she’s become. She used to be so vivacious, so full of life. Her dark eyes used to dance, and her laugh was infectious. Staring at this version of her hurts my soul and for the millionth time since she left, I wonder if I did enough to help her. To keep her safe.
Did I fail her, too?
“How are you?” I ask.
She jolts at the gentleness of my tone and even I’m surprised. I planned to come in here and be direct, to get answers. But seeing her like this changes things. Maybe Charlie was right. Sophie being back changes everything.
“I’m…okay,” she says slowly, her voice rattling. “I’m not here for money or anything. I want to get clean.” She says the words forcefully and something in her eyes—a spark of the old her—makes me believe her.
“I’m happy to hear that.” I take a sip of my coffee.
“He’s beautiful.” She smiles.
“Ollie?”
Sophie nods. “I couldn’t believe it was him skating around that pond. So big now. So full of life and energy. He’s perfect.”
“He is.” I nod, offering her a smile. “He was really happy to see you.”
Sadness fills her brown eyes, and she drops her head. “I’m so sorry I made such a mess of things, Evan.”
“What happened, Soph? Where did we go wrong?” I ask her the question that has haunted me for years. What did I do wrong to make you leave?
“It was my fault. I messed up.”
“What happened?” I lean closer, keeping my voice low.
She wets her bottom lip, her eyes finding mine. “I made a mistake, Evan.”
“It’s okay, Soph. You’re here now and—”
“I cheated on you.”
I rear back from her confession, feeling her words like slaps against my cheeks. “What? When?”
“When Ollie was almost five.”
“You…cheated on me?”
She nods, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “It was so stupid. It was a mistake.”
“With who?” Hurt blazes through me, making me question things even more. How did I not know? How was I so blind?
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. It was one night. I went out with Megan.”
“Eppfield.”
She nods. “We went to a bar her friend owned. We were hanging out with her friends, just having some drinks. You were out of town at a conference.”
“In Atlanta.” I recall the details, remembering with perfect clarity the night I couldn’t get in touch with Sophie, even though my mom had called to tell me she was watching Ollie for the night. I figured Sophie needed a night off, a girls’ night. I had no idea…she cheated on me.
“Yes. Anyway, we were drinking a lot. Drugs were passing hands freely. Megan asked me if I wanted to do some lines and…”
“You said yes.” I finish her sentence, pieces of the past snapping together.
She ducks her head. “I was so bored. I was so… I don’t know, frustrated. With myself. With my life.”
“With us?” I bite out, my earlier concern giving way to hurt.
“I just wasn’t in a good place. I wanted one night to just be carefree. To have no responsibilities.” She shrugs. “It was selfish. And stupid.”
“So you hooked up with some random guy drunk and high out of your mind?”
She nods. “I thought I could put it behind me, forget it ever happened. But then,” she says, tears welling in her eyes, “I found out I was pregnant.”
Jesus Christ. I stare at her in shock. I stare at her like I’ve never even seen her before.
“I’m sorry, Evan.”
I shake my head, gripping my coffee cup so tightly, some of it splashes over the top and burns my hand.
“I lost the baby,” she murmurs.
I close my eyes, her words scraping against my chest. How the hell didn’t I know any of this? Was I so wrapped up in my work that I wouldn’t notice my wife was falling apart? Wouldn’t realize she got pregnant by another man?
“After that…” She rips a croissant to shreds, her fingers shaking. “I fell apart. I was depressed. I was guilty. I knew I didn’t deserve you, or Ollie, or the life you worked so hard to provide for us. I just…I lost myself. Going out with Megan became easier than having to admit all my failures. Getting high became preferable to all the responsibilities. I was just…lost.”
“Where have you been all these years? How have you been living?” I bite out the questions I’ve tried to answer for years. Dread sinks in my stomach as I start to piece together the answers, but I need to hear Sophie say it.
“I took a job working at a club. I…dance. It leads to other opportunities.”
I chuckle, but the sound is twisted and dark. “You get pimped out?” I clarify, too bewildered to keep the bite from my tone.
Sophie nods.
“Jesus.” I pinch the bride of my nose as things begin to click in my head. “Who do you work for, Sophie?” The dread in my stomach fills until I’m nearly choking on it.
“Frankie Esposito,” she whispers.
I laugh. I fucking laugh. Of course she works for Frankie. He’s the missing link. The clown I overlooked and underestimated has been fucking with my life from the start.
“And now…what, he’s just giving you up?” I ask, harshly.
She shrugs, her eyes narrowing and hardening. “He’s checking me into rehab on Monday. I’m going to be there for three months. I know I fucked everything up, Evan. I deserve to pay for my sins. But please, let me get to know Ollie. Please Evan, don’t keep my son from me. I want to be a mom to him. I want to get clean and start…making amends for the mistakes I’ve made. And leaving Ollie is the greatest one.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. No matter how much I despise Frankie, no matter how angry I am toward Sophie, I’d never keep Ollie from her. Not if she’s clean and going to really make an effort to be his mom.
“We’ll visit you in rehab,” I say quietly.
“Thank you,” she whispers, tears falling onto her cheeks.
“But Sophie, you better be one-hundred percent sure about this. I don’t want to get Ollie’s hopes up if—”
“I swear, I’m getting clean. I want to. I’ve wanted this for years, Evan. I just…I couldn’t leave until now.”
I wince, reading between the lines. Frankie wouldn’t let her go. Not until now…which means, he got something in exchange for her freedom. I cringe at all the vile thoughts that run through my mind. What the hell did he make Sophie do for her freedom?
“Thank you for being honest with me, Sophie,” I tell her, some of my anger draining away at the courage it must have taken her to face me. “Ollie and I will visit you over the holiday break once your counselo
r gives us the green light.”
“Thank you, Evan. Knowing that I’ll get to spend time with Ollie will make the transition easier,” she admits.
“You have my number. If you need anything…”
She nods.
“Soph, one more question.”
She glances up at me, her eyes wary.
“The guy you slept with…was it—”
“It wasn’t Frankie.”
Well, thank God for small miracles. Relief rolls through me and I nod. “Okay, well, good luck. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you, Evan.”
22
Charlie
I click the back of my pen in and out, in and out, as I listen to the man, an HR representative, across the line explain the benefits package. “Do you have any questions?” He pauses.
“No, everything sounds great,” I reply, trying to keep my tone pleasant, devoid of the crippling anguish I’m suffering from.
“Excellent. Then Mitchell and Murphy welcomes you onboard. We look forward to seeing you in New York in the new year, Ms. Adams.”
“Me too. Thank you so much for taking the time to explain everything.” In, out. In, out. In—
“My pleasure. Happy New Year!”
“Happy New Year,” I force out, wondering if the year ahead will be better than the shitstorm I’m riding out this year on. Disconnecting the call, I drop my phone to my bed and lean back against the pillows.
Moments later, the phone rings again and I grope for it, already knowing it’s Zoe.
“Hello?” I answer without checking the screen.
“Did you sign?” my best friend squeals.
“I signed.” I close my eyes.
“Charlie Adams,” she scolds, “let me hear you say it with some more gusto.”
“I signed!” I fist pump the air, not bothering to open my eyes.
“We’ll work on that.” Zoe sighs. “Charlie, this is what you want, right? I mean, you don’t have to take the job if you want to stay here. There are tons of design companies in Chicago that would—”
