Chapter 6 Javier
Six
Javier
Octavia did not speak much the day after Aleesa’s accident. It was the strangest thing, seeing her cooking in the kitchen without talking, breaking out in some random dance, or even trying to get a rise out of me.
She stuck to her work. She knew my schedule and that I had a game to travel for, so she came to the house at six in the morning, sat in the living room while Aleesa continued sleeping, and basically ignored me as I carried my suitcase with me out of the house.
I felt like shit for what I had said to her.
The truth was, I had not liked to see my daughter hurt. No good parent wants to see that, and we always look for someone or something to blame. I did not like to know there were tears in Aleesa’s eyes that were caused by pain.
And the biggest truth? I did not like that I was not there to pick her up in that moment. I thought about that a lot—how Aleesa probably looked for me when she was hurt or scared or lonely. It caused so much guilt to eat at my heart and soul because all I ever wanted was to be there for her.
Maybe it would not have felt this bad if her mother was still in the picture. But now that my wife had passed away and it was just the two of us, that meant I was responsible for everything regarding Aleesa, including her happiness.
Our game that night was against Chicago. I did not play my best. Deke and EJ noticed, and on the flight back to Atlanta, they asked what was up. I could not tell them what was really on my mind—not because I did not trust them but because I did not think they would fully understand.
I was a full-time single father and an NBA player.
Those two things simply did not mix. I knew many guys in the league who had kids, but a lot of them had wives or partners who held down their houses.
Some of my teammates joked with me about how I needed to find a new woman to date that I could eventually turn into a wife, but I was not that guy.
I was not looking to fall in love again.
I could not even imagine moving on with anyone else. Who was worth trusting? Who was worth my time? And, most importantly, who would embrace Aleesa and love her like their own?
The whole idea of that seemed wrong because I had done it before. I put years into a relationship—one I never expected to be cut short. I never thought the woman I married would be taken away from me just like that.
In a snap.
A blink of the eye.
Just gone.
I was relieved to finally make it home again. It was close to two in the morning when I walked through the door. The living room was vacant, as well as the kitchen. Both were spotless.
That was one of the great things about having Octavia. She loved cleaning. My house was never out of order or filthy—not that it had been before she was hired. I had a cleaner who took care of my house.
But ever since Octavia was hired, my pantry had been organized with fancy containers and baskets, Aleesa’s toys were always put away at night, and even the throw blankets would be folded neatly and placed in their designated baskets.
Making my way upstairs, I rounded the banister and walked through the hallway, stopping at Aleesa’s door. It was cracked open, and from there I could see her night-light glowing, illuminating the pink butterflies painted on the walls.
I pushed the door open wider with my fingertips, and my heart pumped faster. An unfamiliar warmth coursed through my veins when I saw the perfect moment before me.
Aleesa was lying in her bed, but she was not alone. Octavia lay right next to her, with Aleesa settled close. Both were asleep.
Octavia had a hand wrapped around my daughter, as if she would never let her go.
Seeing that made me feel even worse for what I had said the night before.
She really was a good caretaker. And she really did care about my baby girl.
I could tell none of this was pretend for her. It was genuine and honest.
Knowing she was probably exhausted, I walked to the side of the bed and tapped her on the shoulder. She startled awake, clinging to Aleesa, eyes wide, as if an intruder were breaking in to rob her.
I noticed she did that a lot. Startled easily. Jumped or tensed whenever I caught her off guard. Granted, many people would be startled if caught off guard, but with Octavia, there was always a hint of fear in her eyes . . . almost like she thought she was being attacked.
“It is just me,” I whispered, holding a hand up.
“Oh.” She blinked a few times. “God, you scared me.”
“I apologize.”
Her head dropped so she could look at Aleesa. Then she kissed her forehead before pulling her arm from beneath her and gently situating her on the pillows.
“She was good today,” Octavia whispered when she stood up. She avoided my eyes as she walked past me and left the room.
I placed a kiss on Aleesa’s temple, pulled the blanket over her, and left the room as well. I normally stuck around, lying with her a bit to make up for lost time, but there was something I had to say to Octavia first. I caught her near the mudroom, stuffing her feet into a pair of sneakers.
“There’s leftover wild rice and chicken soup in the fridge if you want some,” she said, standing upright once she was situated. “I also ordered pizza for lunch earlier, so there are still a few slices in the fridge as well.”
“Ah.” I scratched my brow with my thumbnail. “Thanks.” I did not like how serious and to the point she was being. No jokes? No sarcasm? Nothing? I must have really hurt her feelings, which I did not think was possible.
She forced a smile at me, then turned for the patio doors in the kitchen like she always did when she was ready to go to the guesthouse.
I could still remember offering her the guesthouse as an option when she first moved here, but I had made it clear that she did not have to stay in it. I had three other bedrooms she could use, so I did not want her to think I did not want her in my house.
She had insisted on being in the guesthouse, though; said it would do her some good to have a place to go to outside of the one she theoretically worked at but still be close enough that she could pop in when needed.
“Hey, Octavia,” I called as she gripped the door handle.
She paused before peeking over her shoulder.
I stepped closer, and she turned fully to face me.
As she did, I tried not to focus on her flat belly below the white crop top, or the way her black leggings hugged her thick hips and thighs.
Or her hair, which was simple today. Down and swimming around her shoulders.
No jewels. I wondered if the lack was to match her mood.
Yeah, I had really fucked up.
“Look,” I said, sighing. “I am really, really sorry for what I said to you yesterday.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” She waved a hand, like it didn’t matter. Like she wasn’t bothered at all. But I knew she was. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I have worried about it.” I took another step closer.
“I was just . . . well, I do not like to see Aleesa hurt. I freak out and have the tendency to lose my temper, but I should not have taken it out on you. I just wished that I was there for her in that moment.” I paused so I could gather my thoughts.
“Sometimes I . . . well, I just get upset because life can be so unfair. All I want is to be there for her, but I know that I cannot always be, because I have to work to provide for her, and this career is so consuming, so . . .”
Ah. This was hitting a little too close to home. Being this honest. Being this open.
She was quiet for a moment. “I understand,” she murmured, nodding. “And I apologize for not taking matters around here more seriously. I’ll try to limit that and promise not to get on your nerves as much.”
“So you have been purposely trying to annoy me?”
She lifted a hand, bringing her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a teensy bit.” She half smiled, eyes glimmering. It was nice to see some of her light return.
“Of course you were.”
“No, but seriously, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to.
You are her dad, and I need to just shut my mouth sometimes.
But you should know that I’d never let any harm come to Aleesa.
I love that little girl. She stole my heart the moment I met her and still has it. ”
I smiled. That, I believed. Her actions proved it daily. This wasn’t just a job to Octavia. This was her passion. She devoted herself to taking care of my kid. She made sure Aleesa was fed, clean, happy. That was all I wanted for her, really. Someone to care about her and to love her.
“Thank you for all that you do for her.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Our eyes lingered several seconds longer than usual. Then she jerked her gaze away.
“Anyway, I should get some sleep,” she said. “No games or practice tomorrow, right?”
“Practice tomorrow night, but I’m free in the morning and early afternoon. I would actually like to discuss Leesa’s birthday party with you, if that is okay? She will be turning four at the end of June, and I would like to throw a party to celebrate.”
“Oh, I love parties,” she cooed.
I could not help my smile. “You seem like the type to love parties.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, a sassy hand going to her hip. She was smiling, though. Her playfulness had returned. Why did I feel so relieved about that?
“I just mean you seem like you like to have fun.”
“Hmm. Suppose I do. And I gotta say, you seem to enjoy the opposite of fun.”
Ah. Yes. It was definitely back. The jokes entwined with sarcasm were the Octavia Klein signature.
I huffed a laugh. “Good one.”
She patted herself on the shoulder with a lazy smile. “I’ll be here in the morning so we can chat about plans.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Oh—did you have a good game? You guys won, right?”
“We did. It was not my best game, I won’t lie,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “But that is only because I felt very guilty today for being that rude to you. I took it too far.”
“Javier, seriously. It’s okay. Don’t feel guilty anymore. All is forgiven.”
“Are you sure?”
Her smile was warm, infectious. “I’m positive.”
“Okay. Only if you mean it.”
She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something in response but was not sure if she should.
Then she sighed and turned away. “Well . . . have a good night, Javier.”
“Good night, Octavia.” I almost wished she would say more . . . just for the hell of it.
Instead, I watched her walk out the door and shut it behind her. There seemed like so much more I could have said or done, but I was not sure what else to add. I figured perhaps it would come to me the next day, when I had some rest and a clearer head.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had not eaten a proper meal in nearly eight hours, so I walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed the Tupperware filled with soup.
I heated it up in the microwave, sat at the table, and dug right in.
Then I let out a satisfied groan because damn.
I did not care how much Octavia got under my skin if it meant I could keep eating meals as delicious as these.