by Ash, Nikki
But at the end of every weekend or business trip, he always returns home, and he always takes his anger out on me. Then after he treats me like shit, he insists we have sex. He couldn’t care less if I get off and there’s never any foreplay involved. I’m almost positive it’s only in hope of getting me pregnant again, especially since he makes sure to tell me daily how broken I am. Every day I pray he’ll leave me for whoever it is he’s having an affair with. but I know it will never happen. He’s too wrapped up in appearances to divorce his wife for his mistress.
What he doesn’t know is that I’m on birth control. I have to drive out of town every three months and pay cash for the shot to ensure he doesn’t find out. If he knew, he would probably kill me, but there’s no way I’m having another child with this monster. It’s bad enough I have to subject Georgia to this life until I can get us out.
“We did a lot of school work today. It was only a few minutes of coloring.” Justin was homeschooled by his mother growing up and says it’s why he received such a good education. He doesn’t want Georgia going to school, so it’s up to me to homeschool her. She’s only three and isn’t due to start kindergarten for another few years, but he requires her to do daily bookwork.
He backhands me once more to the same cheek and my hand instinctively comes up to rub the stinging sensation, but he smacks my hand away, his fingers tightening around my throat.
“The last thing we need is Georgia ending up anything like you. A flaky, worthless, wannabe artist. Now clean this mess up.” He lets go of my throat and I stumble to the floor to clean up the crayons, throwing it all in the trash. Before I can grab Georgia’s rainbow, he picks it up from the ground and crumples it up, throwing it into the garbage himself.
Chapter Eleven
Tristan
I’m putting away some of Lexi’s laundry when I notice the giant tree covering her wall, and next to it, the dining room chair. Little sneak! “Alexandria Scott!” I yell at the top of my lungs, something I don’t usually do, but damn it, this child! I’m all for her being creative, but she’s not a baby anymore, and if I’m forced to repaint another wall because of her painting, I’m going to lose my mind.
“Yes?” She slowly walks into her room, her blue eyes meeting mine nervously, making me feel guilty for yelling.
I take a deep breath to collect myself before I say, “Lexi, we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep coloring on the walls and the gym equipment.”
“I’m sorry. I was just practicing for the contest tomorrow. Charlie drew the tree and I want to draw one too, but I don’t have big enough paper.” Charlie. For the last few days, my daughter has talked about nothing other than Charlie.
“Charlie is such a good drawer.”
“Charlie said I’m an artist.”
“Charlie will be there to watch me at the contest.”
Unfortunately, my daughter isn’t the only one with Charlie on her mind. Several times, I’ve considered asking Morgan to babysit, so I can drag Mason to Plush to see Charlie. I’ve replayed my conversation with her a million times. I never should have said what I said. I saw how quickly Lexi latched onto her and I freaked out. I told her I wasn’t judging her then completely judged her all in the same breath.
“You need to get a sponge and wash this wall off, Lex.”
“Fine.” She huffs and heads to the kitchen to grab one of the special sponges I’ve purchased in bulk that take pen and markers off the walls. As she’s leaving, Mason walks in, still in his workout gear from the gym.
“Lexi girl!” He picks her up and flips her over his shoulder, tickling her. She starts screeching and screaming, but Mason ignores her until she threatens to pee in her pants. She’s never done it, but the threat alone always has Mason dropping her back to the ground.
“You stink! Go shower!” She pinches her nose in exaggeration. Mason laughs and then notices the tree on the wall.
“Wow, Lexi girl! Look at that beautiful tree. Is that what you’re going to draw tomorrow?” He strolls over to the wall, appraising it like one would do when checking out a picture at an art gallery—his head tilting to the left and then to the right. I stifle my laugh because I’m supposed to be mad.
“It is! I’m going to draw it just like Charlie did!”
Mason turns to me, giving me a knowing smirk. “Charlie again, huh? I still can’t believe you ran into her and didn’t get her number. What’s it been like a year since you’ve”—I give him a look, and he glances toward Lexi—“gone fishing,” he finishes, and I groan because he’s still using that damn analogy.
“Ewww! Daddy! You go fishing? Do you throw them back in the water? I hope you don’t kill the fishies!”
“Of course your dad throws them back, Lexi girl. No fish are harmed in catch and release.” Mason laughs then goes back to appraising the tree. “Great leaves, Lexi! I love the greens and browns.”
“Really? Me, too! Daddy said I have to clean the wall.” She pouts and glares my way.
“Go, Lex,” I say and she stalks off out of the room.
“Really? No fish are harmed in catch and release?” I punch Mason in the arm and he chuckles.
“It’s better than saying you need to go get your dick wet.”
I shake my head because he’s right and I can’t think of a legitimate argument.
“Why don’t you let her color on the walls? It’s not like anybody sees her room besides us.”
“Because coloring on walls isn’t how we treat a home. It’s call learning responsibility.”
Mason scoffs. “Responsibility is paying bills, or in Lexi’s case, one day going to school and maybe making her bed when company is coming over. Responsibility is taking care of your kid and putting her first, which you do.”
“Did your parents let you color on walls when you were a kid?” I ask, but immediately regret it when Mason flinches and walks out of the room. He doesn’t talk about his family or his past. A little over ten years ago when Mason showed up in Vegas, at Bella’s dad’s gym—eighteen and homeless—my parents took him in. My dad was a UFC trainer and took Mason on, starting him on the road which has led to him becoming the successful fighter he is today. Mason has never mentioned his life prior to the day he showed up and it’s like an unwritten rule not to bring it up.
Six years ago, Mason visited California and ended up never leaving. When Bella moved out of the apartment we used to share, Mason moved in, and shortly after, we moved to LA so I could get a fresh start. I transferred to the University here and Mason switched to the local UFC gym. After I graduated from college, I had no clue what I wanted to do. I majored in business management with a minor in athletic training. For about a year I dabbled with teaching some classes at the UFC gym as well as training a few new fighters. Then one day the owner approached me. He informed me he was looking to retire, which meant selling the gym. After going over the numbers with my dad, using my trust fund, I bought the place from him.
This was about three years ago. The gym is thriving and Mason is one of the top UFC fighters right now, holding the title in his weight class. He lives and breathes fighting. When he’s not fighting, he’s fucking. And when he’s not doing one of those, he’s hanging out with Lexi and me. Mason is a good guy, but he doesn’t take anything seriously except for fighting, and even that to him is one big game he’s damn good at.
Lexi comes back in and starts scrubbing the wall. She huffs and puffs, but she scrubs it down. I’m sure I should probably ground her for disobeying me, but scrubbing the wall seems to be punishment enough.
“Hey Lex, when you’re done we need to go by the gym.”
“Ugh! I hate the gym, Dad. Can I stay home with Uncle Mason?” The older she gets, the more my daughter makes it known how much she hates the gym. As much as I love her being home with me, I think it’s time we find a compromise.
“How would you feel about going to preschool a couple days a week?”
She drops her sponge and turns to face me. “Yeah! Tha
t will be so fun. Micaela said she’s in school and loves it! She gets to color a whole lot.” Lexi’s eyes light up and I make a mental note to look up different preschools in the area, and make sure they allow coloring. I have no clue what going to preschool entails these days.
“Okay, I’ll look some up. But Lexi, no more coloring on anything that isn’t paper. Got it?”
“Got it.”
* * *
I get back from the gym and find Mason watching a basketball game. Lexi isn’t anywhere around so I’m assuming she’s asleep. I can’t get Charlie off my damn mind and before I can give it any more thought, I say, “If I can get Morgan to watch Lexi, will you come to Plush with me?”
“Hell yes! That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, isn’t going to happen. I only want to go so I can find Charlie. I said something to her… something kind of rude, and I want to apologize.”
“The other night at the club?”
“No. You know how I mentioned Lexi and I ran into her the other day at Jumpin’ Java?”
“Yeah, she and Lexi talked about art, and then you left without getting her number.”
“Right…well, Lexi invited her to the library on Saturday for her contest and I made a stupid comment about making sure she doesn’t bring her job around my daughter.”
Mason whistles, shaking his head. “And how did she react to that?”
“She promised not to teach Lexi how to pole dance,” I say dryly, which has Mason cracking up.
“I like this woman already.” Mason heads to his room to shower and change while I text Morgan. She texts back she’s home studying and can be here in twenty minutes.
We get to the club and head right up to the second floor. When I don’t spot her anywhere, I find a bouncer who’s standing guard and ask for Charlie.
“Sorry man, she’s not here tonight. Called out last minute. Is there something I can help you with?”
Damn it. “No, that’s okay, but thanks.”
I start heading back downstairs when Mason stops me. “While we’re out, let’s at least have a beer. It’s not often your ass actually gets out of the house.”
I agree, and we head downstairs to have a beer at the bar. We bullshit over sports, UFC, and the upcoming holidays. Mason is going to Breckenridge with us for Thanksgiving. When we’re done with our second beer, we agree to call it a night and head home. Hopefully Charlie will show up tomorrow and I can apologize to her then.
* * *
We get to the library at a quarter ‘til noon. Mason is with us, and Lexi is bouncing off the walls with excitement. We find Lexi’s station and wait for further instructions. I notice Lexi keeps looking around, a frown replacing her usual smile.
“What’s wrong, Lex?”
“Charlie said she would be here, but I don’t see her yet.” I let out a frustrated sigh and hope this woman shows up for my daughter’s sake. Then I mentally kick myself because if she doesn’t show up, I only have myself to blame for the stupid comment I made. I haven’t seen anyone leave an impression on Lexi the way Charlie has, and it will break her heart if she’s stood up. Lexi has been raised by two men, and while I would like to think we’re enough, I know she craves a woman’s presence and approval.
Ever since my sister moved here a couple months ago for school, Lexi has latched on to her. Morgan is an art and fashion major so she can relate to Lexi, but she’s still an eighteen-year-old in college, so she’s busy finding her place in this world, which means her time with us is limited.
While at Lexi’s young age, her happiness is dependent upon those I allow into our life, I learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone else for my happiness. I’m not going to pretend Lexi’s mom and I were some great love story that ended with hearts broken. She was nothing more than a blip on my radar. We dated briefly, during which time she was usually drunk or high whenever we hung out. We broke up when I chose Bella, and then we had a one-night stand during a low point in my life. She got pregnant and tried to convince me to take her back. I tried to fix her. I tried to help her. Unfortunately, she only wanted me if I was going to be with her, and when she realized it wasn’t going to happen and that Lexi wasn’t the other guy’s, she took off with her druggie boyfriend never looking back.
The day she left, I vowed to always protect my little girl. Do I think Gina is a piece of shit for leaving her daughter? Hell yeah, I do. But I would rather she have walked away than stuck around only to break my daughter’s heart later. My biological father was an abusive asshole and luckily my mom got out before he could do any permanent damage. I’m not saying Gina would have been abusive, but you shouldn’t force someone to be a parent who doesn’t want to be one. I don’t even remember my father, and to be honest, I prefer it that way. Kaden Scott is my dad in every way that matters.
I’m also not going to pretend to be some jaded man who has trust issues with women because the one woman I loved didn’t love me back. Did I love Bella? Yeah, I did, and for most of my life, but I know our story wasn’t meant to have a happily-ever-after. We were meant to be best friends and I accepted that years ago. One day I will find a woman who is meant for me and Lexi, but at only twenty-seven years old, I have plenty of time.
With that said, I’m extremely cautious of who I let into our circle. I have seen too many parents walk away from their kids. My biological father, Lexi’s mom, Mason won’t even discuss his parents. Marco was raised by a druggie mom who overdosed. As Lexi’s only parent, I need to keep my guard up when it comes to my daughter. I might have been wrong in what I said the other day to Charlie, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting just any woman into my life, let alone my daughter’s. Trust is earned, not given, and I’m not going to give my trust away. I have to be twice as cautious. Once for me, and again for my little girl.
I look around for Charlie but don’t see her anywhere. I hope she shows up, but I feel like I need to prepare my daughter in case she doesn’t. She called out from work last night so maybe she’s home sick.
“Lexi, listen. I know Charlie told you she would be here, but I don’t want you to be upset if she doesn’t show up. Something could’ve come up, and because she doesn’t know our phone number, she couldn’t call. I want you to have fun. Focus on painting. Okay?”
Lexi nods her understanding, but I can tell she’s disappointed. Thankfully the woman in charge steps up to the microphone to go over the contest. She introduces herself as Heather Young and tells everyone she is the gallery coordinator. She explains that all the contestants must be between five and ten years old. They each are given one large canvas and several painting tools and paints. They can only use what’s given to them and they only have four hours. The contest is being run by a local art gallery to promote art for kids. The top three winners will get their work displayed in the gallery for a month and the first-place winner will get into the gallery’s winter break camp for free. Lexi doesn’t seem to care about any of that. My little girl simply wants to paint.
The woman announces everyone may begin and Lexi picks up her pencil to begin drawing. For the next four hours, I sit and watch my daughter draw and color and paint her little heart out. She stops once to use the bathroom and another time to get one of the snacks and drinks they’re selling. Her drawing is similar to the one Charlie drew the other day, but Lexi has added her own personal touches to the scene.
Mason stays the entire time and my sister shows up with her boyfriend for a little while to show their support. I send tons of picture texts to my mom and post a few on social media. Every now and then I notice Lexi stops and looks around, and I know she’s hoping Charlie will show up. My guilt starts to set in as I wonder if it really is possible Charlie didn’t show up because of what I said to her the other day. Regardless, my daughter is about to get her first experience with being letdown and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Life is messy and full of letdowns, and I know I can’t keep my daughter in a bubble,
hidden away from all disappointment. But in the future, I won’t make the mistake of allowing a woman into our circle so easily.
Chapter Twelve
Charlie
When I agreed to go to the library on Saturday, I didn’t realize it would fall on October 10th. Had I known this, I never would’ve agreed. Yesterday before I left for work I noticed the date and had a full-blown panic attack. After calling out of work, I called my therapist. She talked me down, but when I woke up this morning, it hit me even harder.
I didn’t even want to get out of bed. October 10th. My daughter’s birthday. Only she isn’t here with me to celebrate. There will be no cake or presents. She won’t be blowing out any candles. My hands go to my stomach, remembering the day she was born. The excitement and love that filled the room. When the doctor took her out of me and settled my little girl onto my chest, my heart felt so full. I didn’t think it was possible to love another person as much as I loved Georgia in that moment. As the good memories fill my head, my heart drums so hard it feels like my chest is going to crack.
My therapist, Dr. Monroe, told me last night how I handle today is up to me. I could celebrate on my own—focusing on the positive memories I have accumulated over the years with my daughter—or I could mourn the fact my daughter isn’t here with me to celebrate. The choice is ultimately up to me.
I know Dr. Monroe means well, but fuck that. There’s nothing good about today. I don’t care how much of an optimist you are, there’s no way to spin today into something positive. I think back to my daughter’s last birthday and how looking back it was the day that set everything in motion.
* * *