I was a coward. The biggest fucking coward, because I couldn’t bring myself to look Charlie in the eye and lie to her. How could I tell her the truth—that I have a child with my ex—when I didn’t even know the full story myself? Eventually, I’d have to face it, but not without answers. I needed to know everything first.
Luckily, my mom and Ledger didn’t press me. They just opened the door and let me crash on their couch without asking questions. I was worried that if I stayed by myself, I’d slip again into bad habits when I was stressed.
I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. How the hell could I close my eyes knowing that Nova had kept something this massive from me? The thought was a constant loop in my head, keeping me wide awake, staring at the ceiling, and wondering how everything had gotten this fucked up.
The soft clinking of a spoon against a mug drew me to the kitchen. Ledger was casually leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee. A second mug sat beside him, steam curling from the surface—he’d poured me one without asking.
As I stood at the counter, staring into the dark swirl of coffee in my mug, he stepped past me, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze.
I nodded once, a silent acknowledgment, and we stood there in comfortable silence. The minutes ticked by.
Ledger broke the silence with a soft hum as he rinsed his mug. “Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. And you’ll do right by her. By Charlie.”
I leaned against the counter. “Did you know? When I told you to send her the money... did she call you? Did she say anything?”
“No. I even asked your mom if she’d heard from her. We both got nothing. Radio silence.”
I stared into my mug, tightening my grip around it. “I’m married. How the fuck are we supposed to do this?”
Ledger let out a sigh, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. “Look, man, you and Nova aren’t together, but you can still figure this out. Plenty of people make it work for their kid without it being a total shitshow. It’s all about setting the rules, figuring out what’s best for her, and sticking to it.”
“I love Charlie,” I said finally, my voice low. “More than anything. I can’t be with Nova—I was never good for her. But I can’t just ignore this. I can’t walk around knowing I’ve got a kid out there and not have anything to do with her. I can’t.”
“Alright, then,” he said. “First step, sit down with Nova. Hear her out. Don’t go in guns blazing, just listen to what she has to say. Then tell her what you want—make it clear you’re gonna be in your kid’s life. Ask questions, get answers. Stay calm.”
I nodded, gripping the counter to steady myself. “Yeah, you’re right. I need to do that.”
“Good,” Ledger said, giving me a pointed look. “And after that, go home and tell Charlie. She needs to hear it from you—everything. No bullshit, no holding back. She deserves that.”
I puffed my cheeks out with a noisy exhale. “Yeah,” I said, nodding more firmly this time. “I’ll tell her. I have to.”
Ledger clapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Just one thing at a time, okay?”
“Okay,” I muttered.
I just had to look at the leaf and not the whole tree. The first step was to talk to Nova.
I arrived at the café first, and I clutched the mug of coffee I’d ordered as I tried to decide where to sit. I picked a seat near the window, tucked in the corner where it was quieter, away from the noise and bustle. I should’ve called Charlie. I should’ve told her I wasn’t okay, that I was hurting, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. And that made me a fucking ass.
The bell above the door chimed, and I saw her walk in. Her curly brown hair was piled on top of her head, and she was wearing black leather pants with a black sweater. She looked put together, confident. I dropped my gaze to my hands, willing my meds to kick in, to keep my thoughts in check. Every part of me was at war with the urge to get fucked up, to run from the weight of it all.
Nova spotted me and gave a small wave before heading to the counter to order. She looked the same, but there was something about her now—a kind of glow, a healthiness I’d never seen in her back then. Did she see me the same way? Different but familiar?
When the barista handed over her drink, she turned and walked over to me in the corner. My grip on the mug tightened, bracing for what was about to come.
She smiled softly as she approached.
“Hi,” she said, sliding into the chair across from me.
I didn’t know what to say. It was like seeing a ghost.
“You look sober,” she said after a moment.
I blinked, shaking out of my stupor and nodding. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been sober for almost five years now.”
Her smile widened. “That’s amazing,” she said warmly. “I bet you’re proud of yourself.”
I huffed out a breath. “I am,” I admitted.
