by T. K. Leigh
When I emerge from the dressing room and walk to the 180-degree mirror where Judy’s standing with the seamstress, Lydia sneers. “I knew I should have insisted on going dress shopping with you.”
My expression momentarily falls, my usual personality briefly shining through. I take a moment, closing my eyes as I repeat Drew’s beautiful words in my mind. Straightening my spine, I create a cocoon of comfort around me, one strong enough that even Lydia’s hate-filled words can’t penetrate. Judy meets my gaze as I step onto the pedestal, silently asking if I’m okay. I smile at her. I can honestly say I am. Knowing I only need to put up with Wes’ mom for a few more days makes me no longer care about her opinion.
“What were you thinking?” she continues.
“That all the dresses you chose were hideous,” I quip.
She inhales a sharp breath, taken aback by my bold attitude. It’s something Molly would say, not me, which is probably why she’s surprised. “Hideous? Those were dresses every girl would love to wear on her wedding day.”
“That may be true, but they were wrong for me. You’ve forgotten whose wedding this is. It’s mine and Dr—” I stop myself short, every pair of eyes in the room zeroing in on me from the slip of my tongue.
“Wes’,” I say through the thick silence. “Mine and Wes’.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I swallow hard, pinching my lips together. “Of course I am.”
“So sure you almost said you were marrying that hockey friend of yours?”
I meet her eyes through the mirror, the seamstress busying herself by pinning the dress in places. Due to my ample chest, they had to order a dress several sizes larger so it would fit. It’s saggy around the waist, but once they take it in, it will fit perfectly. Although it doesn’t matter. I won’t actually be wearing it to a wedding anytime soon.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I insist, trying to avoid her glare, meeting Judy’s eyes, who looks upon me with compassion. “I’ve said this repeatedly. Drew is a friend. Like a brother, really. I’m marrying Wes.”
Mrs. Bradford crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her fingers on her skin. “Mmm-hmm.”
A week ago, I would have tried to prove myself worthy of her son’s love. I no longer need to do that. It’s like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Just like Gigi always says, “You’ll know you made the right decision when you feel stress leave your body.” As I beam at my reflection in the mirror, shrugging off Mrs. Bradford’s look of disgust, I know I’m on the right path.
Finally.
Chapter Fourteen
Drew
The atmosphere in the house is solemn as everyone arrives for family dinner, a marked contrast to the frivolity that fills this space on a typical Sunday. But this isn’t a typical Sunday, not with the news I need to share with Alyssa and Charlotte. There are no smiles and jokes, no tickle monster or games of hide-and-seek. Instead, the mood is somber. Aunt Gigi went so far as to dress in black. Even the girls have picked up on the tense environment. Their normal squeals of joy as they play with whatever new toy their auntie Molly spoiled them with this week seems lackluster, Alyssa’s nervous gaze darting to me every few seconds.
I try to pretend everything’s normal, that this is just another Sunday dinner, but I can’t stop watching my two girls, wondering how they’ll cope. Every time I think of it, a lump forms in my throat, the pain bordering on unbearable. Before I became a father, I considered myself to be a selfish individual. But the instant I looked into Alyssa’s brown eyes, everything changed. She changed me, made me want to be a better man, a man she’d be proud to call her dad. And I changed again the first time I held Charlotte. The first time her tiny little fist squeezed my finger. The first time she laughed. The first time she called me daddy. I can’t stomach the idea of never hearing her call me that again.
“Hey,” a compassionate voice murmurs, tearing me out of my thoughts.
I snap my eyes to my left, clearing my throat, trying to regain what little composure I have left. “Hey.”
“How ya holding up?” Brooklyn whispers, craning her head to meet my eyes.
I wish I could lie to her, say I’m okay, assure her I’m strong enough to get through this, but Brooklyn knows me better than most people. She’s always been able to see past the front I put up and peer into my soul.
“I feel like I’m broken in pieces and the glue that normally holds me together is nowhere to be found.”
With more compassion than I deserve, she loops an arm around my waist, resting her head against my chest. I still at the contact. The few times we’ve been with the rest of my family, we’ve avoided touching each other, not wanting anyone to read too much into our interactions. But right now, this is what I need. I pull her close, inhaling her comforting lavender scent. It takes all my willpower not to lean down and kiss her.
“It’ll be okay,” she encourages, running her hands up and down my back, soothing me. “We’re all here for you.”
“Yes, we are,” Molly’s voice cuts through.
I expect Brooklyn to jump back, but she doesn’t, needing this connection just as much as I do. Molly wraps an arm around me, the three of us standing in a group hug. I close my eyes, a calming sensation enveloping me as I remain enclosed in the love of two of the most important women in my life. I lift my head from Brooklyn, placing a kiss on Molly’s temple, grateful for her support.
“We’re not going to let this divide us,” she struggles to say through her own tears.
“Did someone die?” Alyssa pipes up. We all jump away from each other, staring at the two girls standing in front of us.
“No.” Molly wipes at her tears. “No one died.”
“Then why are you crying?” Charlotte presses.
“Your auntie Molly just gets a little emotional once in a while. That’s what happens when you’re pregnant.”
“Why are you emotional?” Alyssa asks.
The three of us look between each other, uneasy. I hadn’t considered how I would tell them. All I knew was I needed everyone here when they learned the truth. As I peer into their curious eyes that are eager for information, I realize I can’t keep this from them any longer.
“Alyssa, Charlotte…” I clear my throat, stepping away from Molly and Brooklyn. “Can you come sit with me on the couch for a minute?” I hold out my hands, surprised when both girls grab onto one without a single word of protest.
“Are we in trouble?” Charlotte frowns, worrying her lower lip.
“No, sweetie.” I sit on the sectional as the girls take their usual place together in the corner. They’re both sporting a miniature version of the Bruins jersey I wore during my time with the team. It wasn’t even my idea. They insisted, since there’s a playoff game tonight. “There’s something important I need to tell you. And I wanted the entire family here so you know how much we love you. Both of you.” My voice wavers, and Molly chokes out a sob. Noah wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. It doesn’t matter how tough Molly wants everyone to think she is. When it comes to these two girls, she’s a softie. We all are. They have every single one of us wrapped around their little fingers. Have since the day they were born.
I glance over my shoulder to see all the important people in my life looking on, long expressions on their faces. Leo hands Gigi his handkerchief, which she brings up to her mouth to hide her quivering chin.
“Can you all join us?”
“Of course, darling,” Gigi responds, dabbing at her eyes and sniffling.
Everyone walks toward the living room, the processional reminiscent of a funeral. My eyes meet Brooklyn’s as she passes and I reach for her hand. She pauses, narrowing her eyes on me, silently questioning. I wrinkle my brows, begging her to give me this, give me the comfort I need. Nodding, she clutches my hand, sitting on the opposite side of me. I hold her gaze for a moment, drawing strength from the love I see, then release my grip on her, facing my girls.
I feel the questions on everyone’s faces from witnessing our exchange, but now’s not the time. Tonight isn’t about Brooklyn and me. It’s about these two little girls whose world is about to be tilted on its axis.
“You girls know I love you very much, right?” I say once everyone’s taken their seats on the couch and chairs set throughout the area.
They stare at me with worry, their uncertainty visible in the way their foreheads crease.
“Yes,” Alyssa replies in a shaky voice.
“And I would do anything and everything for both of you.” I place a hand on each of their tiny legs, marveling at these two little humans, how I raised them and, by some miracle, they survived. How they’ve become the center of my universe. How not one second of a single day goes by that I don’t count myself lucky for being able to be their father. “You girls are my life. You’re my reason for breathing.” I bite my lip, unable to stop the tears from escaping my eyes.
“Why are you crying, Daddy?” Charlotte looks from me to her sister, searching for some sort of reassurance that everything’s okay. I wish I could give her that. Instead, all I can give her is the cruel, unforgiving truth…the truth that’s ripping me apart.
A hand squeezes my thigh and I look to Brooklyn. She nods, her compassionate gaze encouraging me to continue. I swipe at my tears, drawing in a deep breath, then turn back to the girls. In retrospect, I wish I had rehearsed what I would say. Every time I stopped to think about it, an excruciating pain settled in my chest. But it’s nothing compared to the agony overwhelming me now as I stare into their confused eyes.
“Do you remember asking about Auntie Molly’s baby a few months ago? How I explained the baby’s in her belly?”
They nod.
“Well, you were both in your mother’s belly at one time, too.”
Charlotte wrinkles her brow. “Who?”
“Do you remember when we went to the science museum a few weeks ago and you almost bumped into a woman?”
They both nod again.
“Well, the reason I was so upset was because I knew her. Her name is Carla.” I pause, drawing in a deep breath. “She’s your mother.”
Probably not even realizing she’s doing it, Alyssa grabs Charlotte’s hand in hers, squeezing, offering her the same solace Brooklyn’s giving me right now. I can’t imagine what they’re thinking. My mother left when I was six, but I was old enough to remember her. These girls were so young when Carla abandoned us. Alyssa may have a few weak memories somewhere in her subconscious, but Charlotte has none. For all she knows, she doesn’t have a mother. I made it my mission to ensure these girls didn’t feel like they needed one. I like to think I succeeded…until now.
“Why isn’t she our mother now?” Charlotte asks.
“She still is, sweetie. Your mother and I were married, but we fought a lot. We weren’t a good fit, so she left.”
“Why? Did she not love us?”
“Oh, Char…” I run my hand down her face. Her skin is so soft, a stark contrast to the roughness in my own hands. “She did, in her own way.”
“Why are you telling us about her now?” Alyssa interjects, sensing something is amiss.
I square my shoulders, narrowing my gaze on them. “Because she wants to change the agreement we came to when she left. You see, when parents don’t get along anymore, sometimes they get what’s called a divorce.”
“I understand what a divorce is, Dad,” Alyssa bites out, rolling her eyes. I’d normally scold her for her attitude, but it gives me a sense of familiarity I desperately crave right now.
“Of course you do. When we divorced, the court granted me full physical custody of both of you. Now, she’s asking to share custody. She wants to be a part of your lives.”
The two girls turn to each other, obviously unsure how to react to the prospect of another woman, a complete stranger, taking care of them.
“I may not be able to keep her from you forever, but I’m going to do everything I can to make sure absolutely nothing changes.”
“What would change?” Charlotte’s lower lip trembles.
I tent my hands in front of me, taking a moment to compose my thoughts, an emptiness forming in the pit of my stomach. Nothing could have prepared me for this, for the pain I’m enduring. It’s not just pain at the knowledge that Charlotte isn’t my daughter. It’s pain for what she’s about to go through. What they both are.
“Because, Charlotte, sweetie…” I reach out and grab her hand in mine, rubbing my finger along her knuckles. “Because I just found out I’m not your biological father.” I struggle to swallow back my tears as those words ring in the air, the anguish squeezing my heart like a vice.
“What does that mean?” Her wide eyes search mine, then float to the rest of the room, pleading for an explanation. I can see her world falling apart around her and hate that I’m the cause of it.
“You know how Auntie Molly’s carrying the baby in her belly until it’s big enough?” I wipe at my tears, doing my best to maintain composure so she understands exactly what’s going on.
The two girls nod in unison.
“And how your mother carried you in her belly?”
They nod again.
“Well, the mommy gives some DNA, and the daddy gives some, too. At first, the baby is no bigger than a speck of dust. But inside the mommy’s belly, the baby gets bigger and bigger. He develops arms, legs, and all the organs he needs to function outside his mommy’s belly. I thought I gave your mother the DNA to make both of you, but I didn’t.”
“So you’re not my daddy?”
I bite my lip, struggling to maintain control. A lump in my throat prevents me from uttering a single word. All I can do is shake my head as tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve always been able to keep my emotions in check, only letting them out in private. But this is too much, more difficult for me to process than when I learned I’d never play hockey again. I thought my life was over back then. I had my two daughters and their love to help me through it. What do I have now?
Charlotte sniffles, her breaths heavy. “Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?”
“Oh god, sweetie…” I quickly grab her, pulling her onto my lap, wishing I could do something so she could physically feel how much I love her. Kissing the top of her head, I rock her gently, just like I did all those nights when she was a baby, when she cried out for the mother who abandoned her. We’ve come full circle. This time, she’s crying because of that mother.
“I love you so much, Charlotte Marie.” I pull back, meeting her teary eyes. “Nothing will ever come between that. Nothing.” My voice becomes a growl, needing her to hear the meaning behind my words. “Just because you don’t have my DNA doesn’t mean I love you any less. I will always be your daddy. You will always be part of this family.” I wipe at her tears, kissing her nose. “Your mother is trying to change that. She wants you to go live with her all the time, but I will not let that happen.”
I shift my eyes to Alyssa, who has tears of her own streaming down her cheeks. I open my arms and she barrels into me, nuzzling against my chest. It’s been ages since she’s done something like this. She usually thinks she’s too mature to need her father. It feels good to be needed again.
“I love you both so much. I promise, no matter what, I will always be your family. Always. But I also need both of you to know the truth, to know who your mother is. As much as I’d like to keep you mine, she is your mother and has certain rights.”
“I hate her,” Alyssa spits out.
“That’s not nice, sweetie. Hate is a very strong word. You don’t even know her.”
“But she left us! Now she’s trying to take us away from you?”
“That won’t happen.” My voice remains calm as I reassure them this isn’t going to change anything. It’s all I can do to hope it won’t. “Like I said before… You girls are my life.” I glance down at Charlotte in my arms. “Both of you are.”
She remains still, the entire room silent a
s every set of eyes is trained on us to see how the girls cope with this news. After a few moments, Charlotte tilts her head, looking up at me, a question on the tip of her tongue. I brace myself, praying I have a good answer for whatever she’s about to ask.
“Can we still go to Disney World?” she inquires with all the seriousness she can muster.
In an instant, relieved laughter fills the space, the weight on my shoulders lifting. “You better believe it! Nothing’s going to keep us from going on that trip.”
She grins, using the sleeve of her jersey to wipe her nose. “Good. Because I really want to go to Disney World.”
I lean down and brush my mouth against her temple, hugging my girls tighter, never wanting to let go.
When I first received Carla’s motion, I vowed to do everything in my power to fight for my girls. The love I feel from them only strengthens my resolve. These girls are my family. And no one messes with my family.
Chapter Fifteen
Brooklyn
“I hear you had your dress fitting,” Gigi comments as we all sit around the large rectangular table in Drew’s open dining area.
As I expected, the conversation isn’t as lively as usual. We all do our best to pretend everything is like it’s always been, but the reality of the situation seems to weigh heavily on all of us. The one person who doesn’t seem as affected as we thought is little Charlotte. She’s spent the entire time informing Drew about yet another boy who likes Alyssa. No matter what, she’ll always be the little sister, and my heart warms at the notion.
I look at Gigi, placing my fork on my plate. “Yes. This past Friday.” I swallow hard, stealing a glance at Drew, who simply winks.
“That’s wonderful, dear,” she says, but I can hear her lack of enthusiasm.
Gigi seems to know everything. I wonder if she knows I’ve been sneaking over here every morning the past ten days to have coffee with Drew. I wonder if she knows that morning coffee has turned into a morning make-out session that’s been leaving both of us on edge and desperate for more.
