Page 425 of The Doctors Will See You Now

“I know him?” I asked, mystified. “I don’t even have any friends outside of my daughter and work.” I chuckled. “How could I know him?”

“Because it’s Remy.”

“What’s Remy?” I asked like an idiot, completely unwilling to entertain any logical possibility.

She nearly crumpled, her eyes closing as fresh tears ran down her face and her body curling into itself shakily. “The guy. The guy I left the night before our wedding when I was twenty-two years old. The guy who’s your daughter’s uncle. The guy who hates me more than anyone has ever hated me and would never, ever be okay with me dating you.”

Words had left me, shock taking root at my throat and making speech impossible.

Once nausea replaced the shock, I jumped from the couch, feeling sickness climb the column of my throat so convincingly, I ran for the bathroom. I was hunched over the toilet when Charlotte made it to the door.

Seeing me like that only made it worse.

“I’m sorry. God, Nick, I had no idea. I didn’t know Lexi’s mom was Winnie until you said it Friday night, and even then, I hoped I was wrong. But when you said you had to pick her up from Remy’s, I couldn’t pretend it was all a big coincidence anymore. And I couldn’t face you.”

She sobbed, big and body-racking. “I couldn’t meet Lexi knowing what I knew then.”

Convinced no actual vomit was going to make it out of my mouth, I fell back from my position over the toilet, lifted my knees, and put my back to the wall.

Charlotte sank to her knees in front of me.

“I can’t believe this is happening. Thirty-four fucking years of my life, and I’m finally happy, like fucking deliriously happy, and my biggest mistake comes back to haunt me.”

I heard her talking, saw the tears as they ran down her cheeks, but I could only think of a single word.

Lexi.

The center of my world and one of the smartest girls on the planet—and the most important factor, an uncle-worshiping niece. She loved Remy to her core, and he loved her the very same.

He wasn’t a member of the family we saw on occasion or the kind of guy who forgave and forgot without pause. He was a stubborn staple of our lives, and he’d had his heart broken twelve years ago by the woman I was now in love with.

I didn’t think that was something people got over, looked past—learned to love. Especially not for a guy they only tolerated to begin with.

Because that was the impossible reality I really wanted, right? To have Charlotte be a part of our mixed lives. Dinner dates with Winnie and Wes, and family barbeques where Lexi could be immersed in a world with all the people she loved.

Three words distorted my pleasant visualization, and they weren’t distorted at all: Not fucking likely.

“Char…”

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice a tortured shell of itself.

It felt like glass had shattered in my throat as I forced the words out. “I left when Winnie was pregnant with Lexi. I sent money, worked my ass off to provide them financial stability, and I called on occasion, but I was a shitty fucking father. Winnie decides when I see Lexi and when I don’t, and Remy already strongly dislikes me at best. I can’t…”

She nodded, sinking to her own ass and putting her face in her hands.

I moved to her slowly, carefully, and lifted her up to settle her ass into my lap. She turned her face into my throat and sobbed. I hugged her tight, tighter than I ever had before and forced myself to say the words even though I didn’t want to. “I can’t risk it.”

The only problem, my subconscious whispered, is that, thanks to the cameras, you probably already have.

Fucking fuuuuck.

I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since Nick had broken up with me. A few weeks? A month? A year? It could have been any of those options at this point. Every day felt longer than the last, and the incessant pain of missing him hadn’t waned.

There was nothing worse than missing someone. Especially when that someone would never be yours again. It was a constant battle between your head and your heart. You knew you should move on, your head reminded you of that every day, but your heart, well, it wouldn’t let go. It seemed content in misery, giving off the impression that you’d never be able to get over that person.

I’d spent the past week and a half distracting my mind with work. I’d go into the office early, and if I was working from home, I generally worked through the late-evening hours for lack of anything better to do.

The money I’d made in commission and bonuses in that span of time was nearly double what I’d earned in the previous month. I guessed I could have treated myself, spent a few hours shopping Fifth Avenue, but what was money, or material things for that matter, if you weren’t happy?