Chapter 24 Nicolas
nicolas
Ilooked between my father and my wife, who looked like she’d gone pale. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
He cleared his throat. “Just wanted to check in on you, Nic.”
“What did you say to her?” I narrowed my eyes. “What did you say to my wife?”
“Nothing,” Zofia said, voice quiet. Subdued. She was lacking her usual spark.
I frowned. “It doesn’t seem like nothing to me. He upset you.” I turned to my dad. “Leave.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t tell me to leave when this is my company, Nicolas.”
“It’s mine now,” I reminded him. “You retired to travel with your wife. So maybe go live your life and be the parent you should have been for me all those years.” I poked his chest. “That baby deserves better.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I had no idea that was how you felt. I’m sorry I tried to give you a better life.”
“A better life?” I laughed bitterly, the resentment I’d carried all these years bubbling up inside of me.
For so long, I’d shut it down. It was only now, after being with Zofia, that I’d realize how truly fucked up it all was.
“You were never home. I was raised by nannies and housekeepers. We lost Mom when I was three, but I might as well have lost my dad, too. This company was your baby, and I always came in second place.” I threw my hands up in the air.
“This is why I don’t want to have kids. I don’t want to fuck them up like you did. ”
My father looked dismayed, like he couldn’t believe I’d said the words out loud. I knew they were ones I couldn’t take back, but I was surprised how much better I felt after saying them.
“We’ll discuss this later,” he muttered, before turning around and leaving the office. Retreating back down the elevator with his tail between his legs.
Zofia’s hand was over her mouth when she faced me again. “You don’t want kids?”
“I thought we were on the same page with all of this,” I said, frowning.
“Humor me.”
I sighed, my hands running through my hair. “I don’t know. I didn’t exactly grow up with the best example of a dad. He spent more time at work than with me, and it didn’t get better after my mom died.”
“Your dad being a shitty parent doesn’t mean you’ll be a bad one,” Zofia murmured.
“I know. I just… I’m just worried that I’m too married to my job and I wouldn’t be able to give a child the attention they deserve.”
“You give me plenty of attention. What makes you think a kid would be any different?”
I—I furrowed my brows. I hadn’t considered that, had I?
“Nicolas, in the last two months, how many times have you stayed late at work? How many times have you forced your employees to work overtime to get projects done?”
I thought about it for a moment. “I… I haven’t.”
“Exactly. Because you’re a good boss. A good man. And despite my initial reservations, a good husband. I have no doubt that you’d make an excellent dad.”
“I’m confused, Zo.” I reached for her, but she stepped back. “What did he tell you? Why are you asking me this? Kids were never a part of the contract. We both knew that.”
“But what if things changed? What if I decided I wanted to have kids?” She shook her head. “I can’t do this, Nicolas.”
“Can’t do what? Talk to me, please.” Everything felt like it was cracking, falling apart. And I couldn’t fix what I didn’t know. “Please. Please, tell me how to make it better.”
“You can’t,” she whispered. “He—he told me about your inheritance, Nicolas. The trust fund you’re so desperate to have access to.”
Oh. “Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands. “It’s not what you think, I promise.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I need you to tell me. Not him.”
I shook my head. “I don’t—didn’t want to lose you.”
“I’m such an idiot,” she said, tilting her face towards the ceiling. “Any of it. Was any of it real?”
“Zo—” My throat was tight. “We signed a contract.”
“Right.” She let out a bitter laugh. “The contract.”
I shook my head. “That damn contract.” I wanted to rip it to shreds. “You have no idea, do you?” I let out a laugh. She had no idea how I felt about her. “Ask me.”
“What?” Zofia looked confused.
“Ask me why I didn’t sleep with any other women since you became my assistant. Why I haven’t even looked twice at any of them.”
“Nicolas—”
“My inheritance doesn’t matter,” I told her. Only she did. Didn’t she know that?
Tears were streaming down her face now, and I so badly wanted to wipe them away. “It does if you lied. If you used me—” My wife shook her head, slipping the ring off her finger. “I can’t—”
“Don’t do this,” I said as she placed it in my hand. “Please.”
I can’t live without you. I don’t want to.
“I’m going to spend the night somewhere else tonight.” She pursed her lips. “I just need some space. Time to process.”
I winced as she moved a step towards the elevator, stepping forward to close my hand around her wrist. “Stay.” I wanted to beg her.
She shook her head. “I-I can’t, Nicolas.”
“You’re my wife,” I reminded her. “For better or worse.”
“How much was I worth to you? How much was this marriage worth to you?”
My heart was breaking. “So that’s it? We’re over? Do you want a divorce?”
“I don’t know what I want,” she whispered. Her voice was so quiet, so broken. “Just let me go.”
I dropped her hand—and she walked to the elevator, eyes full of tears, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just broken us.
Because I hadn’t been honest.
Because I hadn’t told her.
I didn’t need the damn money.
My dad dangling it over me, reminding me that I couldn’t have it until I had a wife, a family, had felt so far away for so long.
Now, I wanted all of it. With Zofia.
Only with Zofia.
A child with her adorable nose, who scrunched it just like she did when she was deep in thought. One with her warm brown eyes that captivated me every second.
Why hadn’t I told her?
Because I hadn’t wanted to lose her.
And now… it felt like I was losing her anyway.
Fuck.
The house was empty. Quiet.
Exactly what it had been like, before she’d moved in.
Her stuff was everywhere.
Her blanket on my couch, her photos on my mantle. Her shampoo in my shower, her clothes in my closet. Her scent on my pillow.
I was surrounded by Zofia.
Even her cat, who meowed at me.
“I’m sorry,” I told Duchess, smoothing my hand down her back. “Mommy’s not coming home tonight, and it’s my fault.”
Even Cooper looked upset that Zofia wasn’t home.
“She’ll come back,” I promised them.
Even though I didn’t know if it was true.
“For better or worse,” I muttered to myself, looking at my wedding band as it reflected the light.
What if she decided it was over?
That she wanted a divorce?
I’d given her that out, and I’d let her have it—if that was what she wanted.
Even though I only wanted her.
Even if I loved her more than I’d ever loved anyone else.