Healing My Heart: A Second Chance Single Dad Romance (Second Chance Chicago Series Book 4)

by Gina Azzi

  She flips the engine and offers a quick wave before backing out of the parking spot.

  I stand in the empty spot and watch her car as it sails between the iron gates. Snow flurries descend from the sky and land on my shoulders.

  Charlie’s leaving.

  This time, I don’t want to let her go.

  Shaking myself from my trance, I hurry back into Ollie’s school in order to catch him as he leaves backstage. Pushing thoughts of Charlie from my mind, I give Ollie all of my attention and focus.

  But something keeps nagging at me. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. I know I’m missing something, something important. But what?

  24

  Charlie

  “You’re here!” I throw my arms around my big brother’s shoulders. Even though he’s lost a ton of weight and is weaker than usual, he still wraps me up in a bear hug that swallows my entire frame. With my head pressed against his chest, I close my eyes and savor the moment.

  “You’re here, too,” Drew jokes, brushing a kiss across the crown of my head. “Missed you, Charlie.”

  “Missed you too, Drew. It’s been…what? Two years.” I pull back to stare into Drew’s blue eyes, the same shade as mine.

  He nods, a grimace twisting his mouth. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

  “You can hardly control your schedule,” I remind him.

  Mom appears a second later, wrapping her arms around both of our waists. She’s openly crying, and Drew and I laugh as we huddle in for a family hug.

  “Both of my babies home for Christmas!” Mom sobs. “How did I get so lucky?”

  A stab of guilt pierces my chest. One glance at Drew and I know he feels the same way. Our poor mom. All she wants is to spend time with us, and the two of us are always so busy trying to escape Chicago, escape Dad’s mistakes.

  “Oh Mama.” I hug her closer. “I’m so happy we’re all here for Christmas.”

  “Me too,” Drew agrees. He winces and we all remember that he probably shouldn’t stand for extended periods of time. Helping him hobble over to the recliner, we ease him into the chair and make sure he’s comfortable.

  While Mom fusses over him—legit fusses, like she could offer him a foot rub at any second—I pop into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. Carrying three mugs piled high with marshmallows, I join my mom and Drew in the living room.

  “Wait ‘til you see this.” I pass Drew a mug.

  “What?” he asks.

  Walking over to the electrical outlet near the front window, I plug it in and revel in Mom and Drew’s expressions as the living room lights up. The Christmas tree blinks, all of our childhood ornaments decorating it. The trains that Dad loved to set up every year start at the base of the tree, chugging around and around. Lights twinkle around the big window with a tiny, snowy village set up, candles nestled amid the small houses and snowmen.

  “Oh Charlie,” Mom breathes.

  Even Drew seems choked up, his expression forlorn, as if he’s recounting our childhood Christmases the same way I remember them. Brimming with laughter, filled with joy, and bursting with love. “You did good, Charlie,” my brother murmurs, holding out an arm.

  Moving to his side, I snuggle into him and let him hold me. “I think I needed to see you,” I admit.

  “You have no idea how much I needed to see you, too.”

  “Are you really okay?” I pull back and stare at him.

  He nods. “I will be. My injuries aren’t as bad as they seemed in the field. I’ll make a full recovery.”

  “And continue to deploy?”

  He watches me closely before nodding. “It’s all I know how to do.”

  “That’s not true. You can do anything.”

  He guffaws, shaking his head. “Not like you, Charlie. There’s nothing else I want to do anyway; my job is a part of my identity, and I don’t know how to exist without it. More than that, I don’t want to know how to exist without it.”

  I drop my head back to his shoulder.

  “You really moving to New York?” Drew asks after a beat.

  “I really am.”

  “And the guy that’s got you twisted in knots? Better not be fucking—”

  “Drew,” Mom scolds him.

  “It’s not Frankie.”

  “Oh thank God,” Mom breathes out in relief.

  “It’s Evan Holt,” I add.

  Mom’s eyes light up, and she leans closer from her seat on the couch. “Evan? You’re seeing Evan? Oh Charlie, he’s—”

  “It’s not going to work out,” I say, the hurt in my tone so obvious that Drew hugs me closer and Mom’s expression falls.

  “I’m never going to be a grandmother,” she laments.

  Drew snorts, and I crack a smile.

  “It’s okay.” Mom reaches out to pat my arm. “More than anything, I want my babies happy and healthy. And if flinging yourself all over the world—” she fixes Drew with a look before glancing at me—“or living in New York, working jobs you love, makes you truly happy, than I couldn’t be prouder.”

  “Mama,” I say, tears welling in my eyes.

  “Jesus, you two have grown mushy,” my brother jokes, but I can tell Mom’s words affected him, too.

  “Hush,” Mom silences us. “I’m allowed to say whatever I want to my kids on Christmas.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Drew agrees.

  Mom stands. “I’m going to start on supper.”

  I shift my weight. “Mom, you must be exhausted. And jet lagged. I already did the grocery shopping and prepared some things for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll do a big Christmas feast.” I start to stand up.

  “No.” Mom holds out a hand to indicate I should stay where I am, snuggled against Drew. “Stay and visit with your brother. Are you sure about dinner tonight?”

  “Absolutely. It’s already done,” I say and Drew nods.

  “Okay.” Mom grins, relief in her expression. “Thank you, Charlie. Then I’m going to take a hot shower and freshen up. It was a long flight. Tomorrow, I’ll prepare all our old Christmas traditions.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to—” Drew starts, but Mom’s look cuts him off.

  “I want to. I’m so happy you’re home. And safe. And Charlie’s here. We are the luckiest family, and we should enjoy this weekend.” With that, Mom turns around and heads to her bedroom, humming to herself. “Make sure Drew sleeps, Charlie,” she calls over her shoulder.

  Once the shower water turns on, Drew and I glance at each other and crack up.

  “She still babies the crap out of you,” I accuse my brother.

  “It’s what happens when you’re a mama’s boy.”

  I roll my eyes. “Some mama’s boy you are. You actively put yourself in danger.”

  He shrugs. “What’s the deal with Holt?”

  I lean back, tossed off balance by his abrupt subject change. “What do you mean?”

  “Why isn’t it going to work?”

  I sigh. “His ex-wife showed up.”

  “Ah, he wants her back?”

  I shake my head.

  Drew shifts his weight, bumping his shoulder against mine until I look at him. “Be straight with me.”

  “You’re really good at reading people,” I deflect.

  “Part of my job.” He lifts an eyebrow.

  “Frankie—”

  “I fucking knew it.” Drew swears. “I’ll bury him, Charlie.”

  “Not worth it, Drew. Frankie agreed to help Sophie, Evan’s ex-wife, get clean and sober and leave her alone, if I stop seeing Evan.”

  “That douchebag. I swear to God, he’s been trying to control you since you were a kid.”

  I bite my lip, knowing whatever I say, Drew will refute. Also knowing that at least ninety percent of Drew’s observations are spot on.

  “Tell him to go fuck himself,” Drew advises.

  “I can’t. Evan has a son, Ollie. He’s ten and he, he wants his mom back.”

  Drew swears, shaking his head.
“I don’t get it, Charlie. Why doesn’t Evan just put her into rehab and help her? Why did you have to make some stupid deal with Frankie?”

  “You know Frankie, Drew. You think he’d just let Sophie go? Or would he show up, wear her down, bring her drugs, the first chance he got?”

  Drew swears again, and I know he knows I’m right. Anyone—Evan, Eli, family—could help Sophie get into rehab. That’s not the issue. The issue is afterwards, when a million temptations exist, and she needs to fight every day to stay clean, to make the right choice. To do the right thing.

  It’s impossible where Frankie’s concerned, and everyone knows that, even if no one likes to admit it.

  “So you’re just going to let him go?” Drew asks quietly.

  “I’m moving back to New York next week. I start my new job January 2. I’m just going to focus on me for a bit. My career, my dreams, create the life I want for myself. Frankie, Evan, Sophie,” I say, shrugging, “it’s all so complicated. I just want to tune out the noise and do me for a bit.”

  Drew nods. “I get that. But Charlie, don’t settle for less than you deserve. And you deserve everything. So if Evan Holt is really the guy you seem to think he is, don’t count him out just yet. He’ll come for you.”

  I shake my head, a sad smile glancing off my lips. “No, he won’t. Evan and I have been down this road before. The last time he pushed me away, this time I pulled away, but in both instances he let me go.”

  Drew looks unconvinced, but I don’t want to talk about Evan anymore.

  “What about you? Any special women in your life?”

  Drew tilts his head back and laughs. “Oh yeah, because ladies are dying to sign up for a life of always coming in second place.” He gestures to his body. “I don’t even have my looks to go off of anymore.”

  I snicker, rolling my eyes. “You’ll heal. Besides—”

  “Chicks dig scars.”

  I nod. “And glory lasts forever.”

  25

  Evan

  “Merry Christmas, Ollie!” I greet him as he enters the kitchen on Christmas morning.

  Ollie grins, ducking his head around the doorframe to check out the presents under the tree. “Wow! Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  I chuckle. “Waffles or pancakes?”

  Ollie’s expression slips, a frown marring his features. “Waffles, please.” He turns and races back up the stairs. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  “Okay,” I call after him, rinsing my coffee mug out in the sink. Now that he’s awake, I pull the pan piled with waffles out of the oven. Ollie’s a bit of a sure shot, and I’ve had the waffles keeping warm for nearly thirty minutes, just waiting for him to wake up. I breathe in the doughy deliciousness, and my stomach grumbles in response.

  As I place the first waffle on Ollie’s plate, he reappears, a glass jar of maple syrup in hand.

  I laugh. “Is this my Christmas gift?”

  He shakes his head. “Charlie gave it to me. She meant to stuff it in my stocking but now…” he trails off, and I can tell that Charlie’s absence bothers him.

  “That was very nice of her,” I say, careful to keep my voice neutral. Of course Charlie would think of a funny gift to hide in Ollie’s stocking. Of course we would both feel her absence. But I don’t want Ollie to be upset this morning. Not when Santa came and left a pile of presents under the tree.

  “Yeah…” He sits at the table.

  “Any guesses on what Santa brought you?” I place the plate in front of him.

  Ollie rolls his eyes but plays along, picking up his fork. “I hope new soccer cleats.”

  I chuckle again, sitting next to him at the table and cutting into my waffle.

  “Wait ‘til you see what I got you, Dad,” Ollie announces, face flushed with excitement.

  I quirk an eyebrow, chewing thoughtfully. “A tie?”

  He shakes his head, his grin infectious. “Not this year.”

  “I can’t wait to see your surprise.”

  We eat quickly, with Ollie intent on opening his presents.

  Once we’re seated under the tree, I watch him rip into the wrapping paper, whooping over his new soccer cleats and running around the entire house when he gets to the signed Messi jersey, framed for his bedroom. “Wow! Dad, this is amazing.”

  “I’m so happy you like it.” I beam, relieved that I finally did something right.

  “Like it? It’s the best gift ever!” Ollie falls into my lap and wraps his arms around my neck. “Thanks so much.”

  “You’re welcome, big man.”

  “Now,” he says, pulling back, his eyes glittering, “you have to open your gift.” He presents me with a rolled-up canvas, a ribbon tied decoratively around it.

  I tug on the ribbon. “Is this some Harry Potter thing?”

  “No.” He laughs.

  Once the ribbon is untied, I roll out the canvas to see a treasure map. “Wow, Ollie, this is really cool.” I peer at the familiar landmarks, all sketched and painted by hand.

  “Charlie helped me,” he explains.

  Suddenly, their secret project clicks together, and my heart simultaneously swells and sinks. This is what Charlie and Ollie have been working on? A present for me? I’m blindsided by the gratitude over such a thoughtful and special gift. And I’m sad that the woman who made it all possible is barely speaking to me. “It’s incredible.”

  “It’s an adventure map.”

  “What’s the adventure?”

  “You’ll find out tomorrow. Be ready at eight. We have a full morning ahead of us!” Ollie punches the air, his excitement contagious.

  “Okay. Cool.” I grin at him and glance back at the map. “This is really awesome, Ollie. And thoughtful. It’s my favorite present ever. Thank you for making it for me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says shyly. “I think tomorrow is going to be a lot of fun.”

  “Me too, big man. I can’t wait to spend it with you.” Excitement fills my veins at the thought of doing something kind of spontaneous, something silly and fun and carefree, with Ollie. I love that I have more time with him now that my caseload isn’t so heavy. I don’t care that I’m earning less money, only that I’ll have more time to spend the way I wish. What I wish now is to be with my son.

  “Come on, let’s clean up before Maddie gets here. Otherwise, the paper will be everywhere.” Ollie darts to the kitchen for a garbage bag.

  I snort, packing together bunches of wrapping paper. Sometimes, Ollie is too grown up for his own good. “Uncle Eli and Aunt Zo won’t be here until closer to lunch.”

  Ollie shrugs. “Want to do something?”

  “Sure, what’d you have in mind?” I toss a wadded-up ball of paper into the trash bag, lifting my arms above my head when I make the shot.

  Ollie looks less than impressed. “Want to play outside in the snow?” he suggests, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  In this moment, I see what Charlie was talking about. About how Ollie and I don’t do normal, fun, laidback things. Instead of worrying about the files piling up on my desk or the food I’m supposed to prepare for Christmas lunch, I grin at my son and say, “Yeah, Ollie. I’d love to play outside in the snow.”

  “This is the best,” Ollie hollers as I hang onto his hands, pulling him in a wide circle around Shawne Pond.

  “The best gift ever,” I agree, laughing.

  The cold bites our cheeks, the wind whips against our scarves and hats, I haven’t felt my toes in at least forty-five minutes, and I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Ollie’s adventure map, complete with riddles and quick activities to learn a new clue, is the best gift I’ve ever received in my life. Sneaky Charlie even threw in a few riddles Ollie wasn’t anticipating, keeping us both on our toes and completely focused on the task at hand.

  When Shawne Pond appeared before us, glistening in the morning light, snowflakes floating from the heavens, my heart lurched into my throat. A thousand memories of the past filled my head.
Sophie and I used to come here back when we first started dating. It’s where I proposed to her, on a bitter cold morning in January. It’s also where we used to take Ollie on Saturday mornings in winter.

  I can’t believe he even remembers it. When I saw his face, expectantly searching for my reaction, hope gleaming in his eyes, I couldn’t help but pick him up and swing him around. We’ve been on the pond ever since, skating and twirling and laughing.

  As I skate past the bench near the pond, a thought suddenly occurs to me. This is where Sophie talked to Charlie and Ollie that day.

  Sophie sought out Charlie.

  Charlie.

  The puzzle pieces snap into place, and I nearly trip as fury races through my bloodstream. Charlie, or rather Charlie’s happiness, bought Sophie’s freedom. Jesus. I’ve underestimated Frankie at every single turn.

  Sweet Charlie. Her face appears in my mind, and I swallow past the anger and hurt filling my throat. Charlie stepped back to give Sophie a chance to regain her life. Charlie chose my son’s happiness over her own. Charlie is the person helping Sophie.

  How did I not see this sooner?

  I skate faster as thoughts spin in my head.

  Charlie’s leaving. Again.

  “Are you getting hungry?” Ollie asks me, cutting through my thoughts.

  Shaking off the funk I’ve plunged myself into, I focus on Ollie.

  “Wait, there’s more?” I lift an eyebrow.

  He nods, his smile wide. “One last stop. There’s no hint for this…well, other than Charlie’s maple syrup.”

  Charlie thought of everything. I smile, but it feels too tight on my face. “Aly’s Pancake House?”

  “How’d you know?” Ollie asks, sliding to the pond’s edge and sitting down on the bench to take off his skates. When I first saw the bag he lugged around this morning, I had my doubts we’d be doing something as fun as skating and yet, here we are, finishing up the greatest morning session. All because of my perfect little boy and the amazing woman I’ll never call mine.

  “Today was fun, Dad.”

  “This has been the most perfect day, Ollie.” I slide on my winter boots.