22. Nicole
NICOLE
I was hoping after nearly killing myself on the treadmill, I would’ve been able to erase a little of the guilt that’s swarming inside of me, but nope. It’s still gnawing at my stomach, like a parasite working its way further and further inside of me.
The house is in darkness by the time I emerge from Owen’s home gym, and I know Lucky’ll already be asleep. I didn’t realise how late it was. And that makes the guilt grow, leaving me feeling like the world's worst mother.
Creeping upstairs in the now silent house, I sneak into his room and kiss him goodnight.
I can’t get past feeling like I let him down earlier by not defending him.
I've always had his back, but I also know he needs to learn boundaries, and what he can and can’t say to people.
Especially when he doesn’t mean it. And when that person is his dad.
He’s still learning his way through all this too.
It’s been a hard learning curve for all of us.
I love that Owen is diving into his role of dad head first. I just wish it didn’t make me feel like I’m losing my place in Lucky’s life.
I’ve always been mom, dad, and every other family member to him.
I’ve never had anyone to share the load with before, so stepping back and letting someone else discipline and then soothe him after left me feeling like I hadn’t done my job properly.
It’s stupid because I know I don’t have to juggle all the roles anymore, but, like I said, it’s a learning curve for all of us.
I brush the hair off Lucky’s forehead and watch his peaceful, beautiful little face, his eyelids flickering in his sleep. He didn’t deserve lies from me. He doesn’t deserve a mom filled with self doubt and guilt, either. Neither does Owen.
But I can’t help it. Spilling the secret to the world and worrying about their judgement just heightened my feelings of failure.
I failed Owen and Lucky, caused them to spend so many years apart, and failed myself too.
No matter what, I should’ve acted better, done more.
And knowing that, well, it's a bitter pill to swallow.
As I tiptoe out of his room and into the hallway, I’m torn.
To the left of me is the bedroom I’ve slept in for the last couple of weeks, wrapped in strong, muscular arms. Where I’ve slept soundly, safe and secure.
The room Lucky now refers to as Mom and Dad’s room.
Where he comes to snuggle with both of us early in the mornings before Owen’s training sessions and before his tummy starts growling, demanding breakfast. The bed I lie in while Owen takes him downstairs and feeds him and then brings me a coffee while he’s eating.
The bed that we make love in, the bed we cuddle in, and the bed I want to be in right now.
And to my right is the room it all started in. The big empty room that was once so appealing to me. The one that holds the memory of my lies about the loan sharks. Lies about my feelings.
Half of me wants to turn to the left and have his strong arms wrap around me, make me feel safe and treasured. But the other half feels like I don't deserve that. That the woman who did all those things should be asleep on her own in the big empty bed, because this is all her fault.
And I can’t explain that to Owen. He’ll kiss me and brush everything under the carpet, but I can’t switch these thoughts off. I’m angry at myself. That the choices I’ve made have hurt so many people I love and care about.
I’m glad I don’t have to make all the choices for Lucky anymore. I’m happy I don’t have to decide where we live or what school he’ll go to on my own. My life isn’t just about me and him anymore. It’s about Owen too. And while I’m so excited about that, I really am.
I’m also a little sad that the last five years are in the past. The way we lived, our routine, our organised chaos, it’s all gone. We’re having to adapt every aspect of our lives to accommodate our new normal, and there’s bound to be bumps along the way.
Throw into the mix the paparazzi interest in us and the gossiping hordes claiming we’re part of a publicity stunt to save Owen’s career—yeah I texted Caleb’s mom to find out what happened, stupid woman—and it’s near impossible to not overthink everything.
And that’s exactly what I’m doing. Overthinking. Stressing and getting myself into a worse head space than I was in earlier. I’m happy here, I know Lucky’s happy here too, but it’s so difficult going from a single mom to a family in such a short time.
A noise from Owen’s bedroom stirs my feet into action and I shuffle silently into my bedroom and shut the door behind me with a soft click.
I look over at the once appealing bed with a frown.
I don’t want to be in here but, I don’t want to sleep next to Owen, safely in his arms, when I’m feeling like this.
So with a heavy heart, I curl up in the big empty bed and count the ticks of the clock until I eventually fall asleep.
Pouring myself a huge cup of coffee, I sit at the kitchen island, trying to hide my tiredness from Lucky.
He’s informed me this morning that he and Owen ‘maded up’ and that he’s having a playdate with a kid whose dad is friends with Owen.
I take a sip of the sweet caffeine before inquiring, “Who’s the kid you’re going to meet? ”
Lucky shoves a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and shrugs his shoulders at me.
“Who are his parents?” I’m unaware of any of Owen’s teammates having kids Lucky’s age. Another shrug and I physically force my eyes to stay in place and not roll to the back of my damn head. “Want to talk about Caleb?” I venture, and this time I’m met with a furious head shake.
“Nope, Daddy said he’s a poopy head. And his whole family are poopy heads too.” A grin tips his lips up, and instead of telling him off, I find myself hiding a smile behind my coffee cup. “I’mma get ready now. I’mma wear my superhero costume. Daddy said Ben liked dem too.”
And before I can ask who the hell Ben is, he’s off his chair and up the stairs. I swipe his bowl from the table and run the tap to hand wash it like I’ve always done, when a voice makes me jump and the wet bowl slips through my fingers and smashes into pieces on the floor.
“You know we have a machine for that, don’t you?”
“Shit, Owen. Why’d you make me do that?” Frustration and tiredness seep out of every pore, making me hiss through my teeth. I bend down to clear the pieces, and try to shake my emotions away as well, but I’m stopped by a deep, commanding voice.
“Nico, stop. I’ll do it.” Owen appears at my side and sweeps most of the pieces into a dustpan.
Carefully stepping over the remaining shards, I grab my coffee off the island.
“Did I do something wrong?” Owen’s voice is dripping with confusion and hurt which just ramps up my guilt.
“No, you didn’t. I’m just tired and grumpy.”
“You’re tired because you didn’t come to bed till late and got up super early. It felt like you weren’t even in bed with me last night.”
He empties the shards into the bin as I take a gulp of coffee to try to stem the tears pooling in my eyes from falling.
I can’t tell him I didn’t sleep next to him last night.
He’ll want to know why, and I can’t explain that to him.
So instead, I rush from the kitchen, throwing, “I’m going to jump in the shower” over my shoulder.
I manoeuvre my way through the house, tears falling down my cheeks as I head upstairs to wash away the shame of lying to him once again.
After another hour spent ‘working,’ which is my code for running away from my problems without leaving the house, I decide to tackle my issues another way. Maybe a friendly ear will help me see sense and give me the kick up the backside I need to put all this nonsense behind me.
I call Teresa, but she doesn’t answer. I call Edie but her phone goes to voicemail.
Angie is next, but no response from her either.
And with all my avenues exhausted, I pout on the sofa instead.
I’m restless, bored and agitated. I don’t want to go out, I don’t want to stay in.
I want to go back to being a nobody whose only problem was loan sharks knocking at the door. “How fucking ridiculous is that?”
The empty house ignores my question and I shake my head at my own stupidity.
I’m living in a mansion. With a man I like a lot and who wants to take care of my every need.
We have a beautiful kid together. And I’m moaning about it all.
What is wrong with me? Maybe I need a therapist or something.
I just can’t seem to shake the feeling karma is going to come and bite me on the ass sooner rather than later.
My pouting time is over when the front door closes, and I brace myself for whirlwind Lucky to come over and tell me all about his playdate, but instead all I get is Owen’s footsteps padding through the hall and into the kitchen.
No little footsteps running after him, no calls for mom.
Maybe he let him play outside for a little bit.
I heave myself off the sofa and stride into the kitchen.
The sight of Owen leaning against the island, his long, muscular legs showcased by the black sports shorts he’s wearing, shakes me out of one stupor and right into another.
A bottle of water is pressed against his perfect lips, and his chest is bare, showing off the dark smattering of hair across his pecs and the intricate ink detailed on his arm.
I take a sharp breath in, because this man is gorgeous, and lose all train of thought as a droplet of water drips from his mouth and trails down his torso.
My mouth waters, my tongue dips out wanting to taste the mix of fresh water and salt of his glistening skin.
A chuckle snaps me out of my lust induced fog and I bring my eyes up to meet his.
“Hi. Look all you want. You can touch too. I don’t mind.” He winks, places the bottle on the counter, and stretches his arms wide open.
I want to dive into them and forget all the crappy, negative thoughts I’ve been having, but I can’t.
“Not when Lucky’s outside.”
His grin gets wider and he steps closer to me. “You’re in luck. He’s staying with Ben tonight. You get me all to yourself. I missed you last night.”
The last thing he said is lost on me because all I can focus on is that Lucky is somewhere I don’t know, with someone I don’t know.
“What?” I mumble and watch as his face drops in confusion.
“I missed you. I fell asleep before you came to bed and you were up before me.”
“No, you’ve let Lucky go off with some stranger I don’t know. You could’ve asked first.” I let my emotions get the better of me and I shield my eyes from his by spinning on my heels and heading back to the sofa.
“What are you talking about? He’s with Ben.” His voice is close to me so I know he’s followed me, and I also know that means he’ll see the turmoil written on my face.
I sigh a little as words tumble from my lips. “I don’t even know who Ben is.”
“What? Of course you do. I told you about Ben.”
I shake my head and a look of recognition flashes across his face.
“Shit, Nico, I’m sorry. I was supposed to tell you last night but I fell asleep waiting for you.
Lucky’s with Benvolio, Nell Cooper’s son.
Emilia’s nephew. He’s staying at his uncle Antony’s house and Lucky asked if he could stay as well.
I thought it’d give us a chance to talk and find out what’s wrong with you.
But I think I know. It’s me, isn’t it? I’m the reason you’re sad like this. You think I’m taking over?”
His voice is full of concern, and I don’t want to hear it because it’s going to make the already hard act of balancing these emotions even harder and one more kind word from him will tip me over the edge.
I know Lucky’s safe and I know who he's with, so I stand and walk toward the staircase. Before I hit the first step, my elbow’s caught and I’m spun around to face the stormiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“No, Nico, you don’t get to walk away. Not this time. You need to explain to me what this is all about, because I’m sick of this. Tell me whats going on in that fucking head of yours.”
Something inside of me snaps hearing him curse at me. And from out of nowhere I yell back, “Don’t you fucking swear at me.” Tears sting my eyes and my head and heart are at war with each other over telling him exactly what’s been on my mind.
“Tough. If we have any chance of surviving and being happy, we need to fucking communicate. And I’ll swear all I want because you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he shouts back.
And the pure anguish on his face breaks the dam and angry tears drop down my face.
He tries to swipe them from my cheeks but I don’t let him.
“Yeah, well you’re driving me fucking crazy too.
I feel so guilty. Guilty that I kept you both apart.
Guilty that Lucky is struggling with all this change.
And guilty because I don’t deserve you to be nice to me.
Owen, I should’ve done more. I hurt the two people I love more than anything, and I don’t want to feel like this, but I can’t help it. ”
Tears stream down my face as my shouted words echo through the silence of the house. My heart’s racing so much I’m sure it shows through my chest.
“I fucking love you too. And Lucky. I want to do whatever I can to make you both happy. But I can’t do that if you don’t fucking communicate with me,” he bellows back, and then silence consumes the space.
Did I just tell him I loved him? Did he say it back?
“Yeah, I did. I fucking love you more than anything, Whiskey Girl. I always have.”