The connection between us is as intense as ever, and my knees buckle a bit as my heart goes into overdrive.Oh my god, I must look like such a mess with my blonde hair in an untidy bun and my ugly Christmas sweater on, not to mention my red and green striped knee socks.But it’s snowing outside, and I can’t really slam the door in his face.At least not on Christmas Eve.So I step aside, still clutching my baby son, and allow the huge alpha male to enter our small cottage.But what’s going to happen next?Will Nick deliver his presents and then leave, gone once again?Or does the billionaire have more in mind ...making this the happiest holiday of all?
11
Nick
Ella’s gorgeous as she stares at me.Yes, she’s clad in a weird Christmas sweater with a reindeer on the chest that looks like it’s drinking beer from a stein, as well as red and green knee-high socks that belong on one of Santa’s elves.But she’s gorgeous nonetheless, with those big blue eyes, delicate nose, and pointed chin.In fact, that chin looks determined right now, and I don’t know if she’s going to let me in.Fortunately, the beautiful blonde eyes me one last time with suspicion before stepping aside to permit entry.
“Come in,” she says in an abrupt voice.“It’s snowing.”
“It is,” I say while stepping into the entry foyer.It’s so small that I feel like I dwarf the space, with my head almost touching the light fixtures and my shoulders brushing against the walls.But I remind myself to be polite because I’m here for one reason, and one reason only: to get Ella and my son back in my life.
It’s been a tough year without her.After the scare at the hospital where I finally told her about Hadassah and my other child, Ella refused to speak to me.Everything was done via our lawyers after that, and when my attorney informed me that Ella intended to move back to Minnesota with our son, my heart almost broke.
“She can’t,” I said in a rough voice, my vision literally going dark for a moment.“She can’t take my son and just leave.”
“That’s true,” Chris said in a soothing voice.“But it’s not necessarily a bad thing.You told me yourself that Ella never really liked the big city.The concrete jungle isn’t her thing, and she feels stifled and anxious here.She wants to move your son to a place where he’ll get fresh air and sunshine while playing in a backyard.Is that so bad?”
“Marty can play in Central Park!”I raged.“It’s fine!Lots of kids do it!”
My attorney shrugged.
“Yes, but life is different in other places.There aren’t a million rats, psychos stalking the subways, and people consumed with making money.It’s a different life, and Ella’s attorney informed me that she wants a slower pace.She wants to raise your son in peace and quiet, and maybe even start up her career again.”
“In housekeeping?”I asked, askance.“No.It’s not necessary.”
“Not housekeeping, but interior design.Your baby’s mother has always had a thing for furniture, décor, and objects d’art, and wants to potentially take classes at a community college nearby when Marty gets older.She wants room to breathe and grow, and that’s not always possible when you live in the cramped quarters of New York.”
I knew Chris was right.Allowing Ella the freedom to be herself, and to raise our son in a healthy environment, was the right thing to do and so I let them go.It broke my heart to say goodbye to Marty, but even as the baby squealed and wailed, I made a vow: I’d be a part of my son’s life again, and on a regular basis too.I wasn’t going to let the miles separate us.
So here I am, in Ella’s small cottage where it feels like home.It’s not the décor, nor the close quarters, that make me feel like this is where I belong, although Ella’s done an amazing job with the tree, furniture, and knickknacks.No, it’sher.Her presence.Her soul and her light that make my heart bloom in my chest.The curvy girl is everything to me, and as I gaze upon Ella clutching my son close, I know I’ve made the right choice in coming back.My place is here, with them.The question is, will Ella agree?Or will I be cast out into the cold, only to return to New York a broken man?
12
Ella
Nick looks almost comical as he seats himself on our tiny sofa.His legs are so long that his knees jut upward slightly, and he’s so broad and big that the two-seater seems made for one.The handsome man looks uncomfortable, too, and for good reason because I haven’t exactly been all smiles.
“Can I get you some hot chocolate?”I ask in a perfunctory manner.“I’m sorry, but it’s all we have.Well, that and some warm milk.”
Nick manages a grin and is so devastatingly gorgeous that my heart flutters in my chest.
“Sure,” he says easily.“I’d love a mug.”
I pause with Marty in my arms because where am I going to put my son?But then on a whim, I dump him into Nick’s arms, and a huge smile wreaths the man’s features as the child reaches forward to tweak his father’s nose.
“Marty, hands down!”I mock-scold.
“No, it’s okay,” Nick laughs, gazing at his son with joy.“Hey Marty, do you remember me?I’m your dad.”
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.”
