29. MARCUS
CHAPTER 29
MARCUS
Jill’s eyes light up as she digs into her ice cream, a swirl of chocolate and vanilla melting faster than she can eat it. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair slightly messy from the quick walk to the café. She’d been so excited to sneak out and meet me, but that excitement comes with a pang of guilt.
“Your mom’s going to be furious if she finds out,” I say, watching her spoon another bite into her mouth.
“She won’t,” Jill says confidently, though her voice drops just a little. “I told her I was doing homework with Katie.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t like that you have to lie to see me.”
Her shoulders slump slightly, and she looks up at me with those big, expressive eyes that have always been my weakness. “I don’t like it either, Dad. But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t even let us talk without making it a big deal.”
I can feel the anger bubbling under my skin. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t have to meet my daughter in secret, like I’m some kind of criminal. But that’s what it’s come to. Thanks to Charlie Green and her meddling, my relationship with Jill has become one more casualty in her crusade against us.
I force a smile, pushing down the frustration. “Well, at least we get to have this,” I say, gesturing to her ice cream. “And you’re going to owe Katie big time if she ever finds out you’re using her as an alibi.”
Jill giggles, the sound light and unguarded, and for a moment, it’s like none of the mess exists. “Katie would totally cover for me. She loves you. She still talks about that time you taught us how to make balloon animals for her birthday.”
“Balloon animals, huh? That’s my legacy?”
She grins. “Pretty much.”
I stir my coffee, the bitter smell rising with the steam. “You know,” I say carefully, “I don’t like that you had to lie to come here.”
Jill shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I didn’t have a choice. Mom would’ve said no.”
“That’s not the point.” I sigh, setting my spoon down. “I don’t want you feeling like you have to choose between us. That’s not fair to you.”
She finally looks up at me, her big brown eyes filled with a mix of defiance and something softer, something vulnerable. “It’s not fair that you don’t get to see me unless I sneak out. I miss you, Dad. I’m tired of missing you.”
The lump in my throat is immediate. I swallow hard, forcing myself to hold her gaze. “I miss you too, kiddo. More than you know.”
For a moment, the only sound is the clink of her spoon against the bowl.
Jill is the first to break the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She hesitates, stirring the remnants of her sundae. “What’s it like… with Olivia? And the others? Mom always says it’s weird and that it’s why everything’s so messed up.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sit back, trying to steady myself before I answer. “It’s… different,” I admit. “But it’s also good. Olivia, Ethan, Jax—they’re important to me. They’re like family. And we take care of each other, in our own way.”
She nods slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Mom says you can’t love more than one person like that.”
“Do you think she’s right?” I ask gently.
Jill bites her lip, thinking. “I don’t know. I think… maybe you can love people in different ways. Like, I love you and Mom, but it’s not the same. And I love Katie, even though she drives me crazy sometimes. It’s still love, right?”
Her insight stuns me. She’s twelve, but she speaks with a wisdom that feels far beyond her years. “Exactly,” I say, my voice soft. “Love doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. It’s not about fitting into a box or following rules. It’s about being honest, about caring for people the best way you know how.”
She nods, satisfied with my answer, but the conversation isn’t over. “Do you think Mom will ever understand that?”
I want to say yes. I want to believe that one day, her mother will stop seeing me as the enemy. But the truth is, I don’t know. “I hope so,” I say finally. “But sometimes, people hold on to their pain because it feels safer than letting it go.”
Her brow furrows, and she pokes at her ice cream. “I think that’s sad.”
“It is,” I agree. “But it’s not something we can change for her. She has to figure that out on her own.”
Jill looks up at me, her gaze steady. “Maybe you should talk to her. Like, really talk to her. Not yelling or anything. Just… tell her how you feel.”
I laugh lightly, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “You think that’ll work?”
She shrugs. “It’s better than not trying. You always tell me to try, even if something’s hard.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”
She grins. “I get it from you.”
She’s right. I know she’s talking about her mother, but the same truth holds for Charlie. As much as I despise what Charlie’s done—how she’s twisted things, made it harder for me to be a part of Jill’s life—I can’t keep avoiding the confrontation. If there’s any chance of fixing this mess, it starts with a conversation.
When the last of her ice cream is gone, I walk her back to the spot where she’s supposed to be “studying” with her friends. She gives me a quick hug before running off, her backpack bouncing as she goes. I watch until she disappears around the corner, my resolve solidifying. I need to talk to Charlie Green.
The park is peaceful, the kind of quiet that presses against you like a warm blanket. I sit on a wooden bench near the edge of the playground, watching kids climb over monkey bars and swing as high as they can. I remember bringing Jill down here on weekends, back when my marriage hadn’t imploded.
I never thought I could find that kind of happiness ever again. But with Olivia, I could dare hope.
When Charlie Green finally appears, she’s wearing a fitted blazer and sharp heels that don’t belong in a park. She spots me, her expression already skeptical, and walks over with measured steps. She keeps a good two feet of space between us as she stands in front of the bench.
“Marcus,” she says, her tone clipped. “Why are we here? If this is another attempt to ambush me?—”
“It’s not. I just want to talk to you,” I say.
“Why would I believe that?”
“Because I’m a psychiatrist,” I say with a small shrug. “And we tend to deal better with real dialogue than theatrics. If nothing else, consider this therapy. Free of charge.”
Charlie’s lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile, but she quickly shuts it down. After a long pause, she sits at the opposite end of the bench, her posture stiff and guarded.
“You’ve got five minutes,” she says. “Talk.”
I turn slightly to face her. “I wanted to hear your side of things. Not from gossip blogs or legal filings—from you. What is it that’s really bothering you about Jax being in Adam’s life?”
She scoffs, crossing her arms tightly. “You mean besides the fact that he was absent for years and now wants to swoop in like some kind of hero? Or that he’s part of this… circus you’re all running?”
I nod, staying calm. “Besides that.”
Her eyes narrow, like she’s expecting me to argue with her. When I don’t, she exhales sharply and looks away, her gaze settling on the playground. “He doesn’t know Adam. He’s never dealt with the day-to-day reality of raising a kid. And now that he wants to be a part of it, I’m supposed to just… trust him? Trust that he’ll stick around, that he won’t hurt Adam?”
“Charlie, Jax didn’t know Adam existed until recently,” I say softly. “You and Adam’s mother made sure of that. But now that he does know, he’s doing everything he can to step up. Isn’t that what matters?”
She flinches, just barely, but I catch it. “And what about the rest of you?” she shoots back, her tone sharp again. “This unconventional arrangement of yours—it’s not something Adam should be exposed to. He needs stability, not… whatever it is you’re doing.”
I take a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “You’re right. Adam does need stability. And that’s exactly what Jax wants to give him. Our relationship doesn’t change that. Jax knows Adam’s well-being comes first, and he’s willing to make sacrifices for it. Isn’t that worth giving him a chance?”
She doesn’t respond right away. Her fingers pick at the hem of her blazer, a crack in her otherwise composed demeanor. “Do you know what it’s like?” she asks suddenly, her voice quieter now. “To raise someone else’s child because the one person who should be there—his mother—isn’t? Charmaine was always gone. Training, deployments, whatever excuse she had at the time. It was all on me.”
Her confession takes me off guard. I sit up straighter, watching her closely. “That must have been incredibly hard.”
She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “Hard doesn’t even begin to cover it. I had no choice but to step in. And now Jax thinks he can waltz in and be the dad Adam never had? After everything I’ve done for that boy? Do you have any idea how insulting that is?”
I don’t interrupt. I let her words hang in the air, giving her the space to let them out.
“I’m tired,” she says after a moment, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m tired of carrying all of it on my own. But I don’t know if I can trust Jax not to drop the ball. I don’t know if I can trust him, period.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Charlie, I know it’s hard to let go of the control you’ve had for so long. But trust isn’t built overnight. It’s built through actions, through showing up. Jax wants to show up. You don’t have to make it easy for him, but you do have to let him try.”
She glances at me, her eyes narrowing again. “And if he screws up?”
“Then you hold him accountable,” I say firmly. “But give him the chance to prove he can do it first. For Adam’s sake.”
She looks away.
“It’s not like you’ve not made mistakes. You spoke about Adam to someone, didn’t you? You didn’t want the news to leak but it did, against your wishes.”
“I didn’t know she was going to talk,” she says, looking away. “She was supposed to be my friend. I thought one of you had leaked the news.”
“We didn’t,” I say.
“I knew that when Olivia confronted me at the court. It was my mistake,” she says.
“It’s okay. We’re human beings, we’re allowed to make mistakes. This is what I want you to understand.”
“What’s the compromise?” she asks.
“Let Jax come back to us,” I say. “He doesn’t have to be in front of the camera anymore, but let him come back to Love Lab.”
“Is that why you’re here?” she says.
“I’m here because of her…because she needs him back,” I say, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s true.
“You love her, don’t you?” Charlie says softly.
I nod. “I do.”
“Then doesn’t it make sense for Jax to stay away? You can have more of her.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how it works. That’s not what love is.”
“Marcus?” she says.
“Yes,” I say.
“I’m ready to make the compromise.”
The door to Olivia’s apartment swings open, and I step inside, practically buzzing.
“I’ve got news!” I call out.
I stop short when I see Olivia curled up on the couch, her head resting on Ethan’s chest. He’s gently rubbing her back, his movements uncharacteristically tender. She looks pale, her cheeks flushed, and there’s a blanket draped over her legs.
“You okay?” I ask, concern overriding my initial enthusiasm.
“I’m fine,” Olivia says, her voice soft but steady. “Just a little queasy. Probably something I ate.”
“She’s been like this since lunch,” Ethan says, his tone casual but his eyes betraying his worry. “I told her to rest, but you know how stubborn she is.”
Olivia swats his arm weakly. “I’m not stubborn. I just… hate sitting still.”
“Well, you’re about to feel better,” I say, my grin returning as I drop my bag onto the nearest chair. “I just talked to Charlie Green.”
That gets her attention. She sits up slightly, her eyes widening. “You did?”
“Yep. And get this—she’s willing to meet with the lawyers. She’s open to discussing terms that would let Jax come back without risking custody of Adam.”
The transformation is immediate. Olivia throws off the blanket and practically launches herself off the couch, crossing the room in a flash to throw her arms around me. “Marcus! That’s amazing!”
Ethan chuckles from his spot on the couch, shaking his head. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
I laugh as I hug her back.
“This could change everything,” she says, pulling back just enough to look up at me.
“We have to call Jax.”
Ethan gets up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll grab him if you want.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Olivia says, already reaching for her own phone. “He needs to hear this from me.”
She dials and puts the call on speaker, pacing the room as it rings. When Jax’s voice comes through, it’s like a breath of fresh air. “Olivia? What’s up?”
“Jax, you won’t believe this,” she says, her voice brimming with energy. “Marcus talked to Charlie. She’s willing to meet with the lawyers. This could be it—you could come back.”
There’s a pause on the other end, long enough for my earlier excitement to start fraying at the edges.
“Sorry, Marcus. I don’t know what this woman would do in the future,” he says, each word measured. “She could change her mind and drag us into court again. I can’t risk losing my son or exposing you guys to further financial and legal risk.”
The room goes still. Olivia stops pacing, her phone dropping slightly as she stares at it like she didn’t hear him right. Ethan’s expression hardens, and I feel the disappointment settle like a stone in my stomach.
“Jax, she’s willing to negotiate,” I say, stepping closer to the phone. “This is the opening we’ve been waiting for. If we can get her to agree to formal terms?—”
“Formal terms don’t mean anything if she decides to break them later,” Jax interrupts. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done, Marcus. I really am. But I can’t gamble with Adam’s future.”
“But—” Olivia starts, her voice cracking slightly.
“I can’t,” Jax says again. “You guys have no idea how much this means to me, but I have to put Adam first. Always.”
The line goes quiet for a moment before Jax speaks again. “Take care of each other, okay? I’ll be in touch.”