Reluctantly, he nodded his head. “Right.”
“See? And… Adrian, I swear I don’t mean to be unkind… but…as far as me … you can’t lose something you never had.”
He tipped his head to the side. “What are you saying?”
“Well,” I said, lowering my gaze to my hands. “You know when we first met, I was trying to do some investing, so I could get my restaurant away from my business partner, because we had a falling out. As you know, that never happened, and we were able to run the business amicably, from a distance. But… what you don’t know is that he and I dated for six years. We came fairly close to getting married, but we broke up, right before you and I met.”
“So that was the falling out?”
I nodded. “Yeah. But… we never really got any closure there. Never really talked it out. As much as I thought I hated him, all this time… it turns out that really wasn’t the case. I’m sorry, Adrian, for even… bringing you into this. I should have sat my ass down, and waited until I got over it — if that ever happened — and then tried to pursue dating. Instead, I used my relationship with you as a rebound, and that really wasn’t fair. Yes, we were in agreement that we weren’t looking for anything serious, but I was nursing a broken heart. I didn’t want to do anything that even resembled love, and I took advantage of my friendship with you. Again… I’m sorry for that.”
Adrian shook his head. “Okay, apology accepted… but what does this have to do with now?”
“Um… well… since I’ve been back, some things have… changed. Nixon and I have talked through some things, and… we’ve decided to give it another chance. I understand that you’d like to be able to work on a love relationship between us, and turn this marriage into something real, but Adrian… I can’t do that. I can’t give you my heart, because it’s still with the same person who’s had it for the past eleven years.”
With a little snort of derision, Adrian sat back into the pillows, casting his gaze on the ceiling. “So that’s just… it, huh?” he asked, not even looking at me. “Just like that… I don’t even have a chance?”
“I’m sorry. I really do think you’re a good guy, Adrian, and I’m not just saying that. You’re smart, handsome, and when the FBI gives you your money back, rich. I’m sure you’ll find the person who’s a good fit for you. Someone whose heart is available to give. Someone who is actually down with your no exclusivity thing.”
Adrian chuckled. “I was bullshitting about that. I didn’t even know you knew.”
“Oh, I know,” I laughed. “And I appreciate that you were discreet, even though you didn’t have to be. It seemed like she made you happy, and by the end, right before you told me about the investigations and all of that… I just wanted the baby, so I was glad she was keeping you occupied. Maybe that’s where your attention would be better received. Have you talked to her at all?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug, then sat up again. “I guess it doesn’t hurt anything to tell you yeah, I have. Since you’re dumping me now anyway,” he laughed. “She’s come to visit a few times.”
My face balled up in a scowl. “Negro… she’s been coming to visit your ass in federal prison — real ass prison— and you’re stressing me out over this damned divorce? Are you crazy? Wait, no, don’t answer that. Your ass is definitely crazy.”
“You think so? I don’t know… I kinda feel like she only wants me because I’m married.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Um… well… why don’t you ask? Best way to get an answer to a question— wait a minute… mofo, is that why you’re coming to me with this “I love you so much please don’t leave me” crap!? So your damned sidepiece who likes being a sidepiece won’t leave you?”
Adrian’s eyes went wide, and he hesitated a little bit too long before he answered. “Uh… no?”
Heat flared in my chest, and my hands twitched, itching to be drawn into fists. “Adrian… get your ass out of my apartment. And you’d better sign those damned papers, or you’re gonna have some more legal troubles on your hands. And make sure somebody from the FBI calls me about my damned money too.”
“Okay, okay!” He said, chuckling as he lifted his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, okay? I… look, I’ll see what I can do about the divorce, okay? Talk to my lawyer, see what I can make happen.”
“Oh, you better.”
“I will.”
Adrian stood, reaching for another hug.
“I’m gonna go ahead and get out of here…are we good?”
With a raised eyebrow, I allowed the hug, then grudgingly told him we were good. I mean… I really just wanted this to be over. If that’s what it took, fine.
Once he left, I breathed a sigh of relief, and felt a weight lift off my shoulders that I hadn’t even realized was there. But I was so glad it was gone.
I was so glad he was gone.
He hadn’t even been on my mind before, but now that he was there, he was on it, and the first place my thoughts landed were with Nixon. I was sure that he, along with everyone else, assumed that I was divorced before I even came back to the city… and I hadn’t exactly been transparent. Most people don’t really want to ask you about a divorce, and I’d been capitalizing on that. No one had asked, so I simply hadn’t told, which was fair.
Right?
Wrong.
I closed my eyes, and pushed out a heavy sigh. I didn’t need this. This was supposed to be a happy time. I shook my shoulders, trying to brush off any negative energy, and focused my mind on that. I needed to let Nixon know that if all went as it should — and I was praying like hell that it would — in about nine months, he was gonna be a daddy.
nineteen.
charlie.
I flinched when the front door opened.
“Babe, you won’t believe how well the food truck is coming along. You busy? I want you to come with me when I head back down there.”
Damn.
I hadn’t even had a chance to catch my breath from Adrian’s visit before Nixon came breezing through the door, chatting about the latest happenings with the food truck. I wasn’t even expecting him home.
If he’d been ten minutes earlier…
“Charlie?”
I looked up at Nixon’s handsome face, smiling from the kitchen as he lifted a bottle of water to his mouth.
“Yeah?” I answered, trying not give in to the anxiety creeping up my spine.
Nixon grinned, tipping his head to the side. “I asked you a question… what, you still feeling tired from last night?”
I wanted to smile at that. I really did. But… I couldn’t. As much as I wanted to just be bubbly, and happy, and share good news about the baby… guilt was at the forefront of my emotions.
“I need to you tell something.”
Eyebrow lifted, Nixon moved toward me from the kitchen. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” His eyes fell on the bouquet on the table. “What’s up with the flowers? You hate roses.”
“Um… I do. They’re from Adrian.”
I swallowed hard, waiting for Nixon to recognize the name. “Adrian… as in your ex-husband, currently sitting in prison, on trial for fraud?”
“Adrian as in… my current husband, cleared of all charges.”
At first, he chuckled, then looked at me, waiting for me to laugh along, or at least crack a smile. When I didn’t, his expression changed to confusion.
“Charlie… what the hell are you talking about?”
I took a deep breath, then clasped my hands in front of me, planting my feet to combat my sudden lightheadedness. “Um… well… right before I moved back here, I filed for divorce. And… I talked to him, and explained that I was ready to move on, but he wouldn’t sign the papers. I was asking, and asking, and asking, but he insisted that he wanted to try to work it out… so he wouldn’t approve it.”
Nixon scratched his head, running his tongue over his lips. “So… you’re telling me that we’ve been living together… sleeping together… for the last month…
but you’re still married?”
“Technically, yes, but—“
“You’re telling me… it never fucking occurred to you that this was the type of shit you should probably tell me?”
“Nixon, I know it looks bad, but if let me explain—“
“Explain what, Charlie? We just got back together, just now moved past a major fail in communication. I would think this is the type of thing you’d be falling over yourself to let me know.”
I shook my head, blinking back tears as a dizzying wave of nausea made me sway on my feet. “I wasn’t even thinking about him, Nix. With everything that was happening, the fire…It wasn’t even on my mind. I was just focused on rebuilding.”
“You should have been focused on getting a damned divorce!” Nixon gave a dry laugh, then shoved a hand into his short hair. “I can’t believe this shit… I’m out here bending over backwards trying to prove myself to you, make sure you see that I’m a better man than I was, trying to show that you can trust me… and you’re still married… wow.”
“Nixon—“
He raised his hand to stop me. “Just… save it, Charlie. I… I’ve gotta go.”
Tears pricked my eyes as he headed toward the door, and I turned away, not really wanting to see him leave. Just knowing that he was walking away gave me the same heart-wrenching sensation as when he’d left me at that table five years ago, not knowing where he was going or if he was coming back.
What could I say? I was wrong. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have feelings for Adrian, didn’t matter that I wanted a divorce… I should have told Nixon.
His heavy footsteps reached the door, and stopped. He turned the knob, but I never heard it close behind him. Just when I was about to turn around, he spoke, in a voice edged with ire, disdain, and hurt. “Are there any other secrets you need to tell me, Charlie? Anything else I need to know?”
My hand drifted up to my stomach, and I considered saying nothing. This wasn’t the way I wanted to let him know. This wasn’t the tone I wanted to set at all. But would it just upset him further if I didn’t say anything now? If I waited until the “right” time… was that something he would see as a manipulation? Or even worse, as another deception?
He gave what I could only interpret as a disgusted snort, then I heard his footsteps again, and the door began to creak closed.
“I’m pregnant.”
The door stopped, and then I heard footsteps again as it swung back open.
“What did you say?”
A sob built in my throat, but I pushed it away, clutching my arms around my stomach. “I’m pregnant,” I repeated, a little louder, and what felt like barely a moment later, Nixon’s hand was against my back, and he was turning me around to face him.
I didn’t want to look in him in the face, but he cupped my chin, forcing my gaze upward. His expression was harsh, but warmth, excitement, hope filled his eyes… absent of the adoration I usually saw.
“Are you serious? Are you sure?”
I nodded, then pulled away from his touch. “Yeah. I was feeling sick, and my cycle is a little late, so I took a test this morning. I was… coming to find you when Adrian showed up.”
Wrapping my arms around myself again, I stepped back, overwhelmed with the sick feeling coursing through my stomach. It wasn’t morning sickness. It was the sudden absence of affection making me feel ill.
Whenever I was around Nixon, he didn’t have to say he loved me. He radiated it. But not now. He was interested in the fact that I was pregnant… hopeful, even happy. But the only emotion I felt for me was… coldness.
He was angry.
I got that.
It was… it was fine.
“That’s… Charlie, that’s… amazing. And you’re sure it’s…?”
I dropped my gaze to the ground as those words hit me like a blow to the chest. “Yeah, Nix. The baby is yours.”
“I don’t mean to imply—“
“No. No, it’s fine. I understand.” I nodded, then gave him a dry smile.
“Okay. Well… I’m gonna head back to check on the progress at the truck. And… I might crash at Vaughn’s tonight.”
Another wave of pain gripped my chest.
“Yeah. Okay.”
Neither of us said anything else before he left, and as soon as the door closed behind him I broke down. A dozen questions swarmed my mind. Was he really going to Vaughn’s? When he came back, would it just be to get the stuff he’d accumulated? Were we already over again?
I wrapped my arms around my knees and cried, until nausea drove me into the bathroom, where I stayed there on the floor.
Maybe this really was just a mistake.
— & —
That night, Nixon came home.
Instead of staying with Vaughn, as he’d said, he came back to the apartment.
It was awkward.
He wouldn’t really look at me, just at my stomach, as if I was magically going to sprout a baby bump at five weeks pregnant. We exchanged very few words, and instead of joining me in the bed, he slept on the couch.
For two days this went on, with us talking about things for the foot truck and website, and him asking several times a day how I was feeling. I was feeling like my heart was breaking again. I was feeling miserable, because of the tension that had replaced the happy peace we had at home. I was feeling anxious, wondering when one of us was finally going to say we’d messed up by trying to do this again.
But I knew he was just asking about the baby.
I found myself at the barbershop zoned out, my mind on a whole other plane as Carter gave a desperately needed trim and edge up to my short, tapered fro. He had me in the “private” chair, tucked out of sight, but I could see almost everyone else. He chattered to me about all sorts of random things, and even though I appreciated the effort, I wished he would shut up. Between Nixon and Viv, I was sure he’d heard about my epic fail, and was doing what he could to bolster my mood.
Thanks, but no thanks, future Cuz.
At least he wasn’t bombarding me with tidbits about wedding plans, as Viv had over the phone. She wasn’t even in the country, but I knew she was just excited, and trying to take my mind off my own problems. But… when I called her, concerned that Nix and I were already over, when we’d barely gotten started… I didn’t want to hear about a winter wedding.
Instead of being rude to Carter, I tuned him out, letting the chatter of the other patrons at the shop fill my ears. Just a few feet away sat Lorenzo and Walter, Nixon’s dad. Lorenzo had the men around him riveted as he told the tale of a woman — the most beautiful he’d ever seen — he’d met in Spain, at a luxury ski resort.
Why does that sound so familiar?
I kept listening, even as I searched my mind for why the hell his story sounded like something I’d heard before. The other guys laughed, calling him a punk when he spoke quietly about the woman stealing his heart, but Lorenzo declared he was unashamed.
I smiled a little. His mystery lady had to be quite a woman to keep a man like him interested for the number of years he spoke about in his story. Lorenzo was an incredibly handsome older man, with dark olive skin, thick wavy hair that he kept neatly cut, and a healthy amount of the confident arrogance that drove most women — myself included — wild, when paired with a good personality and a kind heart. If I was in the market for a sugar daddy, Lorenzo maybe could have been the chosen one.
I wrinkled my nose.
Or not.
I’d known him way too long, since I was a little girl, to think of him like that. Besides… Melissa was the only Bennet girl Lorenzo wanted. The smile returned to my face, thinking of how my mother had wasted no time getting herself out of dodge when he slipped into my birthday party to give me my gift. You would think he was the handsome foreigner she’d had to escape from on a snowy mountain.
But that was… crazy.
Wait.
Luckily, Carter was already pulling the clippers away from my head, because I steppe
d down, not caring about crooked lines as I moved into the center of the shop to stand right in front of Lorenzo. He flinched when he saw me, but quickly recovered, flashing me a smile.
“Pretty girl! I didn’t know you were—“
“How long ago?”
He ran his tongue over his lips, glancing nervously around before he smiled again. “How long ago for what, baby girl?”
“The story, Lorenzo. How long ago did this happen?”
“Aww, Charlie. You know you can’t trust an old man’s memory. It’s been so long that--“
“How long? Give or take thirty-four years?”
He didn’t even have to respond. His sheepish expression said everything.
I snatched the barber’s cape from my shoulders and tossed it into Lorenzo’s lap as tears welled in my eyes. Goddamn, I was so sick of crying. I turned to Carter, who looked confused, and said, “I’ll pay you later. Right now… I’ve just gotta get out of here.” He still seemed baffled, but he nodded. Ignoring Lorenzo’s pleas for me to wait, I stormed out of the shop.
Lorenzo followed right behind me, jogging to catch up and grab my elbow.
“Charlie, would you wait a moment?”
I snatched my arm away, shaking my head. “For what? What could you possibly have to say to me?”
“Not to be mad with your momma.”
I scowled, turning on my heels to face him. “Why the hell not? She’s been sitting on this information for thirty-four years! And so have you! What kind of sick shit is this? You’ve been around me my whole life. I’ve never felt like I was lacking anything because I didn’t have a dad, partially because you were there. I’ve talked to you… confided in you… and you couldn’t tell me this? All this time, and … you couldn’t just tell me?”
“It’s not that simple, Charlene.”
“Oh, but it is,” I scoffed. “Trust me, I know. You don’t withhold the truth from people you care about. Not when it’s something they have a right to know. I’m learning that lesson now, so you should too.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped away from the embrace he offered with open arms. “I believe you… but it doesn’t make it okay. Just… just leave me alone.”
Fall In Love Again (Serendipitous Love Book 3) Page 19