Chapter 33 Octavia
Thirty-Three
Octavia
Once again, I was fucking crying.
I knew Javier didn’t mean what he said. He was angry, hurt, and shocked. We’re all responsible for our actions and the things we say, but he was blindsided and I don’t blame him for getting so upset, especially about one of the most important people to him.
But that didn’t make his words hurt any less.
I lay on the bed in the guesthouse, curled up, with a blanket covering me. I had my phone with me and saw there was a missed call from Davina. I told myself I’d call her later, when my mood lifted.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I inhaled deeply before exhaling. It was this exact exercise, learned in therapy, that I heavily relied on when things felt intense in my life.
After Luther, this exercise became necessary but wasn’t enough, so I returned to therapy.
All the yelling he did. The mean comments he made about my desires, like deriding how I wanted to get my degree in childhood development, or mocking my first gig as a nanny for a six-month-old. His attempts to startle me, just to get a rise out of me.
My therapist had told me I was smart for leaving him, but she had also told me in order to move past it, I had to take moments to breathe. Now I tried blocking the thoughts about Luther out, so I thought about Javier and Aleesa.
But the idea of them circled around to someone else.
My father. Aaron Klein. I hated that I had lost him so young.
Remembering my daddy brought forth a different kind of pain. I still remembered a lot about him, like the way he’d play hide-and-seek with me and Davina, even when he was tired after working long shifts. The way he praised every piece of artwork I brought home from school.
I remembered his hugs and forehead kisses.
He was the first man in my life that I could trust and feel safe with .
. . and then came Javier. Our weekend in New York proved that I could trust him a bit more and that I could be vulnerable with him.
That was scary because I kept thinking What if he drops the ball?
What if he does something that turns me away or makes me nervous to be around him?
And then he went and said: “You are not her mother. You do not have the right.”
I knew I wasn’t Aleesa’s mom, and I’d never tried to be. It was never my intention to replace her mother, to discredit her, or anything.
What hurt was that Javier took his anger out on me. His words were like weapons that penetrated my heart. I wondered if that was how he felt. Like I was trying to replace Eloise?
A knock sounded on the door, and my breath hitched as I sat up. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand, waiting to see if the knock would happen again as my heart banged in my chest.
“Octavia,” a deep voice called.
I frowned.
“Go away, Javier,” I said loudly enough for him to hear.
“I will not go away. I want to talk to you.”
“I’m not in the mood to talk.”
There was a stretch of silence so long that I thought he was going to walk away. But then he said, “I am so sorry, mi amor. I did not mean a word I said to you. I swear.”
I felt a flutter in my stomach and also the urge to flick the stupid butterflies away for falling so easily for his apology.
But this was Javier, and Javier was not the type to bullshit anyone. What you saw was what you got with him, no sugarcoating.
“I was just upset,” he went on. “It was wrong to take that out on you. Please, Octavia. Open the door.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I want to look into your eyes and apologize the right way. I do not want to be behind a door and blocked from you. I . . . I just need to see you.”
A sigh escaped me. This time I didn’t have the urge to knock the butterflies away. Instead, I took the stairs down from the loft and walked barefoot through the guesthouse.
I paused and drew in a deep breath before unlocking the door.
Javier lifted his head up as soon as I cracked the door open. Whatever was left of my guard instantly lowered when I caught sight of him.
God. It pained me to see him like this, with his eyes so red and his lashes damp. He almost started to tear up again, but I opened the door wider to throw my arms around his neck.
With a shaky breath, he held on to me as I hugged him tight.
“I am sorry,” he whispered in my ear. “I did not mean it. I swear, I did not mean it.”
“I know,” I whispered back.
He pulled away, but only so he could clasp my face in his hands. “Do you forgive me?”
I blinked to fan my tears away. “Yes, I forgive you.”
“Okay,” he responded, sounding relieved.
I stepped back, and he followed my lead, entering the guesthouse. He had to duck his head to do so, but he managed. I held his hand and walked to the sofa so we could sit.
We sat in silence for a while. My thoughts were so loud and sharp, and I was positive his were too.
“Listen,” I said, squeezing his hands. “I know I didn’t birth Aleesa, and I know I can never be Eloise.
I don’t wish to be her or to try and replace her, to make you regret or resent her—none of that.
But you should know that I would do anything for Aleesa.
Okay? I would die for her. Do you hear me? ”
He nodded. “Yes, I hear you.”
“I can’t be her mom,” I continued, “but I can be someone who is there for her through thick and thin. I can be someone who is there for her no matter the situation, just like a loving parent or caregiver would be. Why? Because I love that little girl. I love her so much, and nothing that you say or do to me will ever change how I feel about her.”
His throat bobbed as tears accumulated in his eyes.
“I understand, and again, I am so sorry.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You mean so much to me and Aleesa. So much. And yes, I know you did not birth her, but you treat her as if she is your own, and I am very thankful for that.” His lips twisted, but he didn’t dare let me go.
“I know you probably have the urge to leave now, but there was no way I could let you walk away from me without at least apologizing to you face to face. If you want to go, I will not stop you, because I understand.”
I could hardly see him through my blurring vision. I blinked, causing the tears to roll down my cheeks and drip onto my lap.
“I’m not leaving,” I assured him. His eyes filled with a splash of relief. “But I am scared that you’ll realize I’m not good enough for you. And I’m also scared because every time I think I’m safe with someone, life proves me wrong and I realize I’m better off alone.”
“You do not have to be afraid,” he murmured.
“I am right here, Octavia. I am not going anywhere. Please trust me on that.” He paused, studying my eyes as I did his, both of us coming to a silent understanding.
His gaze dipped as he contemplated his next string of words.
“Truthfully, I do not feel good enough for you. You heard Rafael. Eloise was not happy with me. I had one job and that was to make her happy, but I failed.”
“Why was she not happy?”
He released my face, dropping his head and giving his lap a slight scowl.
“She never wanted me to join the NBA. We met in our home country—Argentina—before the United States noticed me when I was twenty-four.
When I got drafted, she did not want to come here.
But by then, we were engaged, and she knew we needed to stick together as a couple.
With all the traveling I did, though, she was lonely.
She would come with me sometimes, but she became tired of bouncing around so much and wanted more stability.
That was understandable. I believe that is what many women want.
“She told me all the time that she wished we could go back to Argentina to be with her grandmother. Her grandmother was all she had, but she passed away two years after Eloise did. But when Eloise was alive, I suggested she look for something to do that could fill her time. So . . . she got a job as a designer’s assistant.
And that is how she met Rafael—her new boss. ”
“How did you find out about him?” I asked.
“Eloise told me everything about them a few weeks after we found out she was pregnant. Rafael is wrong about the timing. Eloise and I may have been on shaky ground, but we were still sleeping together. And back then, before she found out, I had no idea she had even cheated.” He paused for a second, brows stitching together.
“I remember she made this really big breakfast one day, then she sat down at the table with me and said, ‘Javier, I have something to tell you.’ I knew by the look in her eyes it was not something good. But she told me everything. She told me how a relationship started with Rafael. How she did not mean for it to happen. She kept saying that she felt so alone when I was away and that he made her laugh and kept her spirits up. Just so many things that I did not even realize.”
“Wow.”
“Yes, and I was angry for a while,” he said.
“But she was pregnant, and it felt best to work on our marriage and figure out how to become a better man for her. She said she had ended things with him way before finding out, so I just assumed that Aleesa was mine. I . . . I mean, I had no doubts, and she never said there may have been a possibility of him being the father. Things seemed okay after we got past that rough patch and focused on becoming a family. We made plans and tried not to think about those negative things.”
He went quiet for a bit.
“I feel like a man would know if a baby were not theirs. I mean, there would have to be some kind of doubt, right? I never had that feeling with Aleesa. In fact, when I held her in my arms for the first time, I truly felt like she belonged with me. Her eyes were so big, and she was so alert. And it was like we had connected in a soulful way. She did not cry. She just stared at me, as if I were the only person in the world she wanted to look at. I was so proud that I helped create someone so beautiful.”
He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “But with all of that overflowing joy came immense pain. Eloise hemorrhaged and died the same day.”
“Oh my God.” I cupped my mouth. “Did she birth her at a hospital? Couldn’t they stop the bleeding?”
“No. They tried but could not stop it. There was just too much. She became nonresponsive, and they told me to leave the room with Aleesa. The next thing I know, a doctor is telling me she could not be saved. But what really gets me is that only a few minutes before it happened, Eloise looked at me and smiled with tears in her eyes. She told me she loved me and that I was going to be a great father. It was almost like she knew something bad was going to happen to her.”
“Oh, Javier.” I leaned in and hugged him tight. “I’m so, so sorry. That’s so traumatic. I can’t believe that happened.”
“Sometimes I cannot believe it either.”
I held on to him for a solid minute, my mind racing about that tragedy. No parent deserved that after giving birth. Though beautiful, our bodies had a bad habit of betraying us when we least expected. This was absolutely horrible to hear.
I leaned back and held his hands again, blinking my tears away. “What Eloise said is true. You are a great father, and no matter what happens, we’re going to fight really hard for Aleesa. Okay? No matter what that paternity test says, we’re fighting.”
His eyes crinkled around the edges as he peered into mine. “You would fight for me?”
“Of course I would. And if I need to, I will vouch for you in court. We’re not letting that arrogant dick take her away. Fuck that.”
Javier laughed. “Well, that is good. I appreciate you saying that, babe.”
Once again, my stomach was full of butterflies. “Did you just call me babe?”
“I did. Why? Do you not like that name?”
“No, no. I do like it,” I said. “I just didn’t think that word was a part of your vocabulary.”
“Would you rather I call you baby?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Or honey? Oh, wait, no—sweetie pie, or however Americans say it?”
I snorted. “Please stop. If you call me sweetie, I’ll get the ick.”
“The ick? From me?”
“Yes, ’cause then you’ll sound like a sixty-year-old man trying to holler at me.”
He chuckled as he reeled me toward him. I eased onto his lap, draping my arms over his shoulders while he sat back.
“I’m here for you. You know that, right?” I asked in a soft voice.
“I do. Thank you.”
“Good.” I kissed his warm, soft lips.
“And I promise you are safe with me,” he murmured, grazing his mouth across my chin. His lips pressed to the crook of my neck, then he created a trail of hot, delicate kisses to my collarbone. When he skimmed his hand up my back, I tipped my head back, absorbing all his affections.
“So does this mean I’m not fired?”
He came to a halt, and I dropped my head so our eyes could connect again.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” I teased.
“Pretending that you are just the nanny. You and I both know you are becoming much more to me than that.”
“Oh yeah? What am I then?”
He studied me briefly, eyes softening.
Then he said, “You are becoming my everything.”