20. Nick
20
NICK
T he bourbon wasn't strong enough—that or I'd just built up too much of a tolerance. This was my third glass and I felt almost nothing, but at least my heart wasn't beating as hard. I was thankful that I'd made Emily clear my schedule for this afternoon, though earlier today I'd considered going into the office to catch up on my transcripts. After getting that shocking news, I knew I couldn't get anything done. I needed time.
I brought the glass to my lips and downed it. I'd had that suspicion weeks ago. Ethan happened to be roughly the right age for my one-night stand with Scarlett. But when that thought occurred to me, I fully pushed it away. I believed in her, trusted in her as a person. She wasn't like Fiona. Scarlett was my lily of the valley, the one who came along to heal me.
My phone buzzed and I looked down at it. It was a message from Scarlett, one I wasn't sure I was ready to read. I felt betrayed, but not in the way Fiona had hurt me. This was different, because while Fiona had no good reason to side with her father and be nasty to me, Scarlett had a very good reason to keep her son a secret. My son…
Scarlett 4:17 PM: I debated whether to even send this, but I knew you'd want to know. When I saw what was happening around your life after our night together, I felt ashamed. I couldn't even tell any of my friends at the time that I'd slept with you. Everyone was talking about you in the news. And a week went by, then a month. Three months later I found out I was pregnant. Your life was absolute chaos and I couldn't Nick. I just couldn't. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I was scared.
Emotion started to well up in my eyes, and I locked my phone and tossed it across the table. It landed on the couch and I rested my head on the back of my recliner and closed my eyes. Her explanation made perfect sense. How could I be mad at her? My heart felt guilty for having even put her through any of that. If my life wasn't such a mess back then…
I was a billionaire doctor with ailing parents and a huge scandal. She was barely an adult with a social life and a startup she was working on. The media frenzy around that scandal alone would have tormented her, but being pregnant? She did the right thing, the best thing…
So why hadn't she told me in the past four months?
Now mid-April, we'd been together for four months. She had so many opportunities to tell me about this. The times we talked about getting her genes mapped and trying to find Ethan's father to have his done. My heart felt like it had a knife in it. This entire time, my very body could have held the key to helping diagnose Ethan, and Scarlett hadn't said a thing, not even for her own son—our son. I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
I thought Scarlett and I were going somewhere, and I thought we were going there quickly. I really felt like the reason she was drawing away from me was because I pushed her too hard; because I was ready to settle down and she wasn't.
Now I knew the real reason she was shying away. She was ashamed and felt guilty. When I told her I wanted children—a house full of them—she pulled away. Now I understood. She did it because I already had a child, and she'd kept him a secret.
But I loved her. I hadn't said as much to her, but she had to feel it. I never held back. I gave her my all, helped her, encouraged her, lifted her up. Now I wasn't sure what to feel. I loved her. I did. And I wanted a life with her, and a family. My mind just kept coming back to the secrecy. How would I ever trust her now?
I heard a knock at my door and sighed. It was probably Scarlett coming to beg for my forgiveness. I didn't think it was a good idea to talk to her for two reasons. First of all, I was drinking, and while I didn't feel drunk, I knew it would affect my emotions at the very least. And two, I hadn't had time to fully process this. Scarlett was likely going to get a side of me she'd never seen and one I didn't want to show her. She might understand it or it might scare her. I didn't want the latter.
However, I got up and walked to the door anyway. The low rumble of thunder told me the bright blue sky had shifted while I sat here stewing. I couldn't leave her standing outside in the rain. I would just have to explain that I needed a bit of space and time to think things through, and I was sure that when this all settled and I'd processed things, we could have a rational discussion.
But when I swung the door open it wasn't Scarlett standing there. It was a face I hadn't seen in years.
"Fiona?" I mumbled, suddenly feeling the swirl of the bourbon in my chest and head.
"Nicky! Baby, I've missed you…" She walked right into my house with her short, dark, spikey hair and heels three inches tall. Her manicured fingers clawed at the front of my button down and I stood there in shock wondering what hole she'd crawled out of.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, turning to watch her walk in. Her eyes raked over the room and she crossed her arms over her chest as she grinned wickedly at me. I shut the door, but I was very uncomfortable doing so. Fiona and I hadn't been alone together in a room since the moment I found out she had given her father my secrets—which weren't at all a confession of guilt, just my insecurities and fears. She used them against me and it destroyed me.
"I heard all about that gold digger trying to say you were the father of her illegitimate child." She moved toward me, her eyes sweeping down to my feet and back up to my face. "I came to let you know I'm still around…See how you were feeling." When she stopped in front of me she smoothed her hand down my buttons and patted my chest.
"It's been over for years, Fiona. You aren't getting a second chance. What you did ruined me." I gently took her wrist and removed her hand from my chest, then walked around her and went to pick up my whiskey glass.
"Nick, don't be silly. It's been eight years now. You can't still be holding a grudge against me." Fiona followed me, her heels clicking on my wooden floors. "Can't we let bygones be bygones?"
I straightened with my glass in hand and walked to my old Indiana cabinet where I kept my liquor. I filled the glass and downed it in two gulps, then set it down and turned around.
"I hardly think what happened between us was a bygone." It was taking all my emotional strength not to drag her to the door and toss her out. "You and your father single handedly tanked my career. You had the whole town accusing me of murder, and I had to shut down my practice for six years to recover."
Fiona chuckled and batted her hand, then stepped up to me again and splayed her paw on my chest. "Nicky, please, baby. What we had was good. We were so in love. Don't let this…wretch of a woman sway you against me. We could be good again. You had millions to fall back on. You recovered just fine. And now look at you."
"My parents both died within months of each other right after that, and I went through that alone, thanks to you. I had to hire a funeral service from the other side of the city, someone who wasn't afraid to have my name on their obituary page." I had my hands balled into fists at my sides and she didn't even pay attention. The way she was speaking about Scarlett infuriated me; she wasn't a wretch. She was the most amazing woman I'd ever met, and hearing Fiona talk so badly about her made it impossible for me to stay angry with her.
"Nicky, baby…" she purred, and that used to get me going. It used to push my buttons, make my cock dance for her, but right now I was seeing red. Fiona was acting like no time had passed, like she hadn't destroyed me and left me to lick my wounds in utter isolation.
Her hand slid down my chest and across my belly. She leaned in and her face was so close I could smell her shampoo. "What are you doing?" I asked, but she had me up against the cabinet and short of knocking her over, I had no place to go. Her hand kept moving south, across my groin where she squeezed, and I wasn't surprised to see the discouragement in her eyes when she realized I was as soft as a slug.
"Don't you want me anymore, Nicky?"
"Get your hand off me, Fiona." For the second time this afternoon I had to physically remove her hand from my body, and this time she was reluctant to let go. She had me by the balls—literally—and I had to be gentle or physically harm myself. "I want you to leave." That gossip show had done its damage already. If news that Scarlett and I were dating and had our own little bit of drama to boot had already gotten to Fiona, there was no telling how the town would react and what people would be saying.
"But I'll suck you…I know how much you like that. Does she suck you?" She refused to back up, so I sidestepped and prayed she'd leave before I lost my patience.
"I'm asking you to leave my house right now, Fiona." I was firm, unwavering in my resistance to her advances and she huffed out a sigh.
"Okay, I get it. You need a bit of space. But I'm not quitting so easily. If I'd have known you hadn't moved on yet, I'd have come years ago…" Her fingers walked up my chest to my face and she rose up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on my jaw. "I miss you, Nicky."
I looked off into the distance, afraid to make eye contact with her. Afraid it would only make things worse.
When she was gone, I poured another drink, locked the doors, went to the bedroom and stripped my clothes off. When my last drink was down, I crawled into bed and passed out. I thought this part of my life was behind me, but apparently I was being haunted now.