Chapter Nineteen #2
“I said I’m not a decoy father,” I repeat, stepping a half inch forward, drawing all of Charles' focus entirely on me. “I am that baby boy’s father. I was there when Ellis heard his heartbeat for the first time, I was there when he kicked for the first time, I built his crib, and I will be the man holding her hand in the delivery room when he takes his first breath. Dylan Boone provided half a strand of DNA. “That doesn’t make him a father. It makes him a donor who wasn’t man enough to stay. ”
Charles leans back, letting out a harsh breath.
“You speak very romantic words, Brody, truly. It's a wonderful narrative, but let’s look at the actual reality here. Boone plays in the NHL and has an eighty-two-game season with constant multi-city road trips and endless travel. He wouldn’t even be in the same zip code for half of this child’s life.
You play seventeen games a year, half of them at home, which is much better for stability, but why would you step into this gap?
Why take on the emotional weight of another man’s child when you don’t have to? ”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Dad,” Ellis interrupts smoothly, stepping right up alongside me, her voice dripping with ice.
“Neither Brody nor I need a dime from Dylan. His hockey schedule makes him entirely useless as a parent anyway. Brody isn’t stepping in out of convenience or obligation.
He’s here because he belongs here. Belongs with me. ”
I look Charles dead in the eyes without hesitation.
“I’m here because I love her,” I say simply.
The sheer honesty of the statement hangs in the heavy air in the study.
“I love Ellis,” I continue, my voice steady, carrying the weight of an absolute truth.
“And when you love a woman, you don’t pick and choose which parts of her life are convenient for you to carry, you take all of her, take her past, her present, her fears and her dreams. You stand in front of her when the wind blows, and you build a wall around her, so no one can hurt her. ”
I pause, taking a slow breath, letting my gaze drift for a second toward the floor before locking back onto Charles.
“My dad walked out on my mom when I was seven years old,” I say quietly.
“He packed a bag in the middle of the night. Left a note on the kitchen counter and vanished. He left, and my mother worked sixty hours a week at a diner just to keep the lights on and feed my sister and me. I grew up watching a good, strong woman bleed herself dry because the man who was supposed to stand by her decided it was too hard.”
I look Charles right in his face. My jaw sat like concrete.
“So when I found out Ellis was pregnant,” I say.
“It wasn’t a burden. It wasn’t a responsibility to weigh on a balance sheet.
It was an absolute unshakable instinct. We were friends first, and I respected her.
I cared about her, and there was zero chance on this earth I was going to let her walk through this alone, and somewhere along the way, falling in love with her was the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. ”
Ellis’s breath hitches softly beside me. I turned my head slightly, looking down at her tears shimmering in her eyes, not tears of weakness or fear, but raw emotion that shines like stars. She raises her hand, resting her palm flat against my chest right over my heart.
“Brody,” she whispers, her voice thick with love.
I turn back to Charles. His face has gone completely motionless, and the harshness that had filled his eyes five minutes ago is gone, replaced by a quiet, stunned stillness. He’s got no rebuttal for a man who operates on honesty.
“I love your daughter, Charles,” I say firmly. “I intend to protect her. I intend to raise our son, and as soon as she’ll have me, I intend to marry her.”
For three seconds, nobody moves or says a word.
Then a sudden sharp, delighted clap echoes through the drawing room.
Molly is beaming, clapping her hands together with unbridled joy, tears running down her cheek, and then she steps between Charles and us.
“Oh thank goodness,” Molly cries out, breaking the heavy tension in the room like a light switch. “I knew I wasn’t wrong. I told you, Charles, I told you he was coming here to ask for our blessing.”
Molly rushes over, wraps her arms around my waist, and squeezes me before turning to pull Ellis into a hug. “Oh my sweet girl, finally a man with actual muscles and a heart.”
Ellis laughs, shaking her head as she buries her face in her mother’s shoulder. “Mom, please.”
“What?” Molly says, stepping back and wiping her cheeks with a handkerchief, looking up at me with a wicked grin. “I’m just observing, darling! A man who can bend a steel rod in half is bound to make an efficient father.”
“Molly, for God’s sake,” Charles sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the last of his intimidating posture completely crumples under his wife’s uninhibited enthusiasm.
“Oh hush, Charles,” Molly snaps, playfully turning to glare at her husband with a playful expression. “You sat there playing the big bad wolf, and Brody just handed you your own head on a platter. Accept defeat with some dignity, dear.”
Charles looks down at his glass of scotch, taking a long, slow sip before placing it back on his desk.
He leans back in his chair, staring at me for a long, quiet moment.
The anger is entirely gone, replaced by the resignation of a father who realizes he’s no longer the most important man in his daughter’s life.
“Fine,” Charles says quietly, devoid of malice. “I will not file a public paternity suit. I will not leak Dylan Boone’s name to the press.”
Ellis lets out a quiet, relieved breath, her hand tightening on mine.
“However,” Charles continues, raising a sharp, stern finger as he asserts his final boundary.
“I will not leave this family unprotected, Brody. If Boone is going to walk away from this child, he’s going to do it legally.
I’ll have our attorneys draft a comprehensive, ironclad surrender of paternal rights combined with a non-disclosure agreement that carries liquidated damages high enough to bankrupt his entire estate if he ever speaks a word about Ellis, the baby, or you.
He signs it quietly, he walks away permanently, and he surrenders every legal claim to that boy forever. ”
I look at Ellis. She gives me a single nod.
“Now that I can agree with,” I tell Charles. “Have the papers drawn up, and if he gives us any trouble about signing them, I will personally handle it.”
Charles looks at me for another second, then slowly stands from his chair. He steps a foot away from me. He’s a tall man, but I tower over him by three inches and seventy pounds of muscle. Our eyes lock, and I know he’s searching for any sign of doubt, any flicker of hesitation.
He won’t find any.
Charles extends his hand. “Take care of my daughter, Brody.”
I reach out, wrapping my hand around his and gripping it with firm, solid strength that seals the pact. “With my life, Charles.”
The drive back across the river to our home in Alpine, New Jersey, is quiet.
The chaotic storm that had been brewing all afternoon has finally burned out. Ellis sits in the passenger seat, her coat folded over her lap, her hand resting over mine on the console.
As we clear the George Washington Bridge, leaving the glittery lights of Manhattan behind us, I glance over at her profile that’s illuminated by the passing streetlights, her expression thoughtful, serene, and entirely relaxed for the first time in days.
“You’re quiet over there, Princess,” I say softly, my thumb stroking the back of her hand.
“I’m just thinking,” she replies, turning her head to look at me with a soft smile playing on her lips. “About what you said back there in my father's study.”
“Which part?” I ask, a faint grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
Ellis lets out a soft laugh that fills the quiet cab. “Umm, the part about marrying me.”
My grin fades, replaced by a deeper steady warmth. I keep one hand on the wheel, guiding the heavy truck off the highway onto the quiet tree-lined roads of Alpine.
“I wasn’t playing around, Ellis,” I say, my voice dropping to a serious tone. “I meant every single word I said in that room.”
Ellis shifts slightly in her seat, turning her body toward me as much as her bump will allow. “I know you did, Brody, but we haven’t actually talked about it. Not really. Everything has happened so fast. The pregnancy, the move, the drama with Dylan.”
“It doesn’t feel fast to me,” I tell her honestly, turning the truck down our gated driveway. “It feels right, it feels the same way it did when you moved into my house.”
I pull the truck into the three-car garage and shut off the ignition; the quiet of the New Jersey night envelopes us instantly. I turn in my seat, reaching out to hold her face with my hand, my thumb gently tracing the line of her cheekbone.
“Ellis,” I say, looking straight into her beautiful eyes.
“It’s important to me. It’s important that when our son takes his first breath, he enters the world where his mother and father are standing together with the same name.
I want him to be a Vaughn. I want you to be a Vaughn because you belong to me and I belong to you. ”
Ellis stares at me, her eyes glistening in the damn garage light. She reaches up, placing her hand over mine on her cheek, leaning her face into my palm.
“I want that too," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I want to be your wife, Brody. I want our son to have your name. I want to look down at my hand and know that the best man I’ve ever known is mine forever.”
“Are you saying yes?” I ask, a slow, unstoppable smile spreading across my face. “Because I technically haven’t asked yet.”
“I’m saying, yes,” she answers happily, a tear escaping her eye and rolling over my thumb. “If you were to officially ask me, if we can make it work before this little guy decides to make his entrance, I want to be married before he gets here.”