Chapter 44 Nova #2
“I want to be there for her, Nova. Are you planning on staying here, or are you going back?” Austin’s voice was steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of desperation.
“We’re here for a while. Luna has some things she needs to figure out.”
“And your fiancé?” he asked, the words cautious, careful.
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. “He—he’s coming here, too.”
A thought hit me like a wave: how much Ollie had done for me, for us. He’d been my rock, stepping in when I needed him most, never asking for anything in return. This moment, this conversation with Austin, made me realize how much I loved him—with every fiber of my being.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting my mind drift to the photo Luna had taken the day Scarlette was born.
It was the three of us—me, Scarlette, and Ollie.
My hair was a mess, my face was pale, but Ollie was holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
His smile was tired but so full of love.
That photo was everything. It was a reminder of the life we’d built, of the family we’d become.
I exhaled a steadying breath and opened my eyes.
Austin nodded, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. His expression shifted, and I braced myself for what was coming next.
“I want to be there. I want to sit down with her and tell her I’m her dad. I want to—”
“I know you do,” I said gently.
He wanted to be her dad. The words should have scared me more than they did. They did scare me—this whole thing was terrifying. But there was a flicker of something else, too. Something I hadn’t expected.
Hope.
I thought about Scarlette and how this could change everything for her.
How she could have a relationship I’d never had, something I didn’t even know how to picture.
I never knew my dad. He was absent. Mami always said we didn’t need him.
And we hadn’t. What if Scarlette didn’t have to grow up with that same void?
Mami wouldn’t want this. She’d want them both involved. She always made room for people at the table, no matter how imperfect they were. There’s always room, she used to say, her voice full of warmth. Family’s not about who’s perfect—it’s about who shows up.
But then there was Ollie. My Ollie. He wasn’t “Dad” to Scarlette, not in the traditional sense, but he was hers just as much as she was his.
He was the one who stayed up with me during sleepless nights, who taught her to say her first word, who carried her on his shoulders like she was the center of the universe.
He wasn’t Dad. He was Ollie. That was a role no one could take from him.
This terrified me. The idea of Scarlette’s world expanding to include someone who’d been absent for so long. But it also made me excited for her. Because if this worked—if Austin truly was sober and ready—she could have something I never did.
As scary as it was, there was space at the table. For Austin. For Ollie. For all of us.
“I need to do this in a way that’s healthy for her. I need to make sure it’s not confusing or overwhelming. And I need to know you’re sober.”
The pause that followed felt like it stretched for an eternity.
“I’m married,” he blurted.
My eyebrows lifted in surprise. Married?
“You’re married?” I repeated, my voice carrying more disbelief than I intended.
For a second, I wasn’t sure what to feel. Surprise? Definitely. Relief? Maybe. Jealousy? No, that wasn’t it. But there was something about the idea of him building a stable life that left me momentarily speechless.
I thought of the man I knew before—the one who couldn’t commit to anything beyond the next drink. It was unexpected, to say the least, and for reasons I couldn’t quite name, it stung a little.
Not because I wanted him back—god, no. Maybe because it was a reminder of how much had changed, how far apart our lives had grown.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “To a teacher at the school. That’s why I was there, too.
We—uh—recently got married.” He hesitated, fumbling for the right words.
“I know that doesn’t exactly prove I’m sober, but I’ve been happy.
I don’t drink. I—” He looked down at the table, his uncertainty visible in every line of his body.
I studied him for a moment, and something in me softened. He was trying. I could see it in his posture, hear it in his voice. I loosened my grip on the cup.
“I’ll follow your lead,” he said quietly, leaning forward. “However we approach this, I promise, I’ll do it your way. But I want to be there. I need to be there. I have money, a house—I can show you. We can make one of the rooms into—”
I cut him off with a gentle laugh. “Let’s start with the basics.”
Doubt lingered at the edges of my thoughts. I’d seen him be this eager before, so full of hope and plans, only for it to crumble. But as much as I wanted to shield myself from disappointment, I couldn’t ignore the way he looked now—steady, sincere, and desperate to be part of Scarlette’s life.
“Okay,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “Tell me about her. Tell me about my daughter.”
I managed a small smile. “Her name is Scarlette. She’s four. She loves books, animals, and drawing. She’s got the biggest imagination. And her laugh? It’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to laugh with her, no matter what’s going on.”
I watched him as I spoke, his expression softening with each word. He was hanging onto every detail, piecing together the life he’d missed.
“She’s got your eyes,” I added quietly.
Austin smiled faintly, but I could see the weight of everything sinking in. “Will you be okay if I meet her?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
My mind spun as I tried to process what this would mean—for Scarlette, for me, for all of us. Could I trust him?
Could I risk letting him into Scarlette’s life, only for him to leave again?
Or worse, to let her down? The thought twisted in my chest, filling me with dread.
But at the same time, there was a flicker of hope.
He was asking. He wanted to know her, to be part of her life.
Didn’t she deserve that chance, no matter how scary it felt to me?
Ollie’s words from the phone call yesterday echoed in my mind: “Then you’ll protect her, like you always have. You’ll do what you’ve always done—you’ll put her first. But you need to know, Nova. For her and for yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”
I looked out the window, the enormity of the decision bearing down on me. Slowly, I turned back to him. “I think that would be okay,” I said carefully. “And if that goes well, then maybe we can talk to her.”
He closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Yes,” he whispered, and I knew he was crying.
“But Austin,” I murmured, my voice trembling. “If we do this, then we have to do it together. I don’t want her . . . taken away . . . from me.” Tears trailed down my cheeks. “I raised her. I’ve been there every single day. I can’t . . ..I won’t let her be taken away from me.”
“I don’t want to take her away. I promise you, we can do this together. As a team. I don’t want you to be anything but happy.”
I nodded slowly, his words settling something deep inside me, even as the pain of the past still lingered. “The team’s bigger than you think,” I said quietly. “I still have Luna. And Ollie . . . he’s part of that team now, too. He’s a really good guy, Austin.”
“I’m glad you had that.”
I smiled faintly, wiping at my cheeks. “I’m glad you’re happy, too.”
He squeezed my hand gently, and for a moment, we were two people trying to do the right thing. “I’m glad you’re happy, Nova. Truly,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.
I searched his face, surprised by how much had changed—and how much hadn’t. “I was worried there might still be . . . lingering feelings between us,” I admitted hesitantly.
I studied his reaction, the way his brow furrowed slightly before his expression smoothed out.
There was no hesitation, no flicker of uncertainty in his response.
And when he said it—“If this were a few years ago, maybe there would’ve been.
But as much as I love you as a person, Nova, I love Charlie. My wife”—the words felt solid. Final.
It didn’t hurt the way I thought it might. If anything, it was a relief. A confirmation that the past, while still painful, didn’t have to define us anymore.
Maybe I’d needed to hear that as much as he’d needed to say it.
“I’m glad you have that,” I said softly, offering a small, genuine smile. “You deserve it.”
We sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable either.
“There’s a children’s museum nearby—it’s indoors. We could meet there tomorrow, say nine?”
His nod came without hesitation, his eagerness clear. “I’ll be there,” he said, his voice filled with determination.
I offered him a small, relieved smile. For the first time, the tension seemed to ease a little. This wasn’t going to be perfect—it was messy, and complicated, and overwhelming—but it was a start.