Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
The words wrench at my heart, so I spin on one foot before disappearing into the kitchen. Once I’m shielded by the wall, I lean against the counter, my heart racing. Get a hold of yourself, the voice in my head scolds. This is just a holiday drive by, Ella. Don’t get your hopes up.
Of course, my subconscious is right and I straighten my shoulders while hardening my heart. Nick is a billionaire with every resource at his fingertips, and he chose to stay in New York while Marty and I left. He could have followed us here, or he could have come to visit more often, but instead, we do occasional Facetimes where Marty barely seems to recognize his dad.
Exactly, the voice in my head whispers. If you were more of a priority to the CEO, you’d know it. But you’re not.
With that, my mouth flattens into a line as I stir the hot chocolate. Then, I bring the mug out to the billionaire with what I hope is a neutral look.
“Could you put it down right there?” Nick asks while trying to duck Marty’s sticky baby fingers on his face. “Thanks, babe.”
“I’m not your babe,” I say immediately, my tone sharp. “And while we’re at it, why are you here?”
Nick doesn’t miss a beat.
“I brought presents,” he said, nodding to the stack on the table. “And I’d like to see my son. Isn’t that enough?”
I decide to go in for the kill immediately.
“Yes, but what about your other son?” I fire back. “Hollister, I think his name is. I saw in the news that you and Hadassah welcomed him around the same time I gave birth to Marty.”
“Right, we did,” Nick says in a slow voice, still juggling our squirmy son in his arms. “I’m here to talk to you about that too.”
“Oh, no need,” I say in a careless tone even though my heart’s beating a drum in my chest. “Congratulations, by the way. A child is a blessing.”
But Nick won’t put it down. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small bit of chocolate, and sure enough, Marty goes wild. Immediately, our baby is giggling happily while gnawing at the sweet, distracted by the delight.
“He’s not supposed to have sugar,” I say in a cold voice. “I’m trying not to get him addicted.”
“Okay,” Nick says, unruffled. “But just a little bit won’t kill him. I’m his father, so I get a say too.”
“No, you don’t!” I immediately retort, my cheeks flushing with anger. “I’ve been here raising our son alone, and I’m the one who calls the shots! You can’t just fly in out of nowhere, and expect to make decisions about how I feed Marty. He’s my son,” I say in a fierce tone.
Nick nods slowly, his expression serious.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to criticize you, Ella, or even sound like I was criticizing you. I agree. The fewer sweets a child consumes, the better. You’ve done a great job with Marty, and he’s obviously happy, healthy, and loves his mama. But I think we both know that this conversation isn’t about what Marty eats or doesn’t eat.”
“Then what is it about?” I snap angrily. “It’s Christmas Eve, for crying out loud. Spit it out and then get out,” I rage, almost crying with anger now. It’s not just anger directed at Nick, though. It’s also anger directed at myself for feeling how I feel. For the storm of emotions racing through my form at the sight of the handsome billionaire sitting on my couch with our son in his arms. My heart convulses and then a painful shudder almost tears it apart because I want us to be a family so badly, and yet there are so many obstacles in the way.
But Nick doesn’t take offense at my unhinged answer. Instead, he nods slowly while looking at Marty before shifting his gaze to me. The azure of his eyes is so searing that I feel seen, everywhere. This is a man that gets me, and it’s not fair that we’re in this situation.
But Nick takes a deep breath then, and surprises me.
“What would you say, Ella, if I moved out here? I want to be with you, and I want to be with Marty. I think it’s clear that I need to make the next move, and that’s relocating to Minnesota.”
I gasp, my jaw dropping, because this is not what I expected.
“You’re going to move?” I whisper hoarsely. “But what about your job?”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “Rocket X is mostly remote, so they don’t need me at corporate. Hell, our launches are happening in Texas these days, so New York’s not even home anymore. But I want to see more of my son, and I want to see more of you, and that means moving here because it’s clear you won’t relocate.”