Liam
“Honey, I’m home.”
“That’s the last of it, man.” My roommate Chance claps me on the back with a shake of his head as I roll down the trailer door. “You sure about this?”
The adrenaline vibrating through my veins is all the answer I need. “Yep.”
“Okay, well… good luck.” He eyes me with a shit grin. “Pretty sure you’re gonna need lots of it. I’d come to help unload, but—”
“Nope. I’m good,” I interrupt, hopping into the driver’s seat, slamming the heavy door behind me. “I got this.” I hang a fist out the window, giving him the old thumbs up, willing myself to feel the confidence I’m trying to display. “Thanks for everything, man.”
Chance is not only one of my best buds, but also a very sore subject when it comes to Nya. It could have a little something to do with my investing the inheritance I received from my grandfather to go in with him to open a club on the Vegas strip.
Don’t look at me like that. It seemed like a great idea at the time, to a fresh out of college finance major with tens of thousands of dollars suddenly burning a hole in his bank account. But apparently, those are not the types of decisions a man makes without consulting his new wife. Believe me, I see the error of my ways, hindsight being twenty-twenty and all, but I still lost my girls. I’ve been paying for that stupidity for nearly ten years.
I finally have the opportunity to right all the wrongs. I won’t screw this up. I can’t. I’ve got to move fast, quite literally.
When I turn into the subdivision, I jab my first two fingers on the buttons, lowering the glass on the driver and passenger-side windows. Then I twist the knob, cranking the sound up as loud as it will go just as I round the last curve leading to the cottage-style house Nya and I picked out together not long after discovering she was pregnant. The little house is situated on half an acre in a quiet town just south of Vegas, called Clairmont. “Mama, I’m Coming Home” by Ozzy Osbourne blasts through the speakers as I pull up to the curb, shifting the U-Haul into park. Nothin’ like a little mood music to set the tone.
Here goes… I pull in a deep breath before resting an elbow on the horn, smiling to myself as I anxiously await the epic tantrum I know is coming. Three, two—
“Daddy!” Ellie shouts, running through the front door in a pair of pink footy pajamas, her raven hair a tangled mess. She looks so small and not at all like the preteen drama queen she’s quickly becoming. “What are you doing here?”
Before I can answer, my heart’s in my throat at the sound of her mother’s voice approaching behind her.
“Yeah, Liam. What are you doing here?” the love of my life grits through clenched teeth. Unlike our daughter, her long dark hair is sleek and shiny. Her copper toned skin is free of any makeup save for a light shimmer accentuating her pouty lips. I lick my own instinctively as I take in the skin-tight jeans that cling to her perfectly round ass like a glove.
With a shrug, I climb down, pretending not to notice the fire blazing in her eyes as I approach her and our daughter. “Listen.” I cup a hand over my right ear, belting out the chorus. I won’t even lie—I’m thoroughly enjoying the horrified look on her face.
“Oh, no. No, Liam. This is not happening.” She plants a hand on her cocked hip, eyes narrowed my direction. Lord, I love getting her all riled up like this. The flush in her cheeks and the frustrated breath she blows up toward her hair only spur me on.
“What’s not happening?” Ellie asks, confusion marring her pretty face. So, Nya hasn’t even told her yet. This is turning out to be even more fun than I thought.
“Oh, it’s happening,” I assure Nya, my eyes briefly connecting with hers before turning to face our little girl. “Remember your wish?”
“Uhh…” she stammers, chewing her lower lip as she waffles between her mother and me. “Yeah?”
I think back to two nights ago. Her eleventh birthday. The day our daughter unknowingly delivered the second chance I’ve been searching for.
“Make a wish, Ellie,” Nya urges. My chest tightens when she latches onto my arm as she gazes adoringly at our little girl pursing her lips to blow out eleven pink, sparkly candles.
Don’t get me wrong, we have a great relationship as far as divorced couples go, but she’s not usually so touchy-feely with me. Especially not since Ryder came into the picture. So I can’t help but allow myself to revel in the moment.
“I know what I’m gonna wish for,” Ellie says, looking fondly at her mother and me.
Guilt swirls in my chest, because I already know her wish won’t come true. I fucked up any chance of that years ago.
“Don’t say it,” Hannah, Nya’s best friend, orders, worry creasing her brow. “Or it won’t come true.” Good old Hannah. Always trying to put out fires before they start.
“It won’t anyway,” Ellie pouts, looking just like the toddler I like to pretend she still is, before she catches a wave of prepubescence and gives her Auntie an eye roll to rival that pale chick from The Exorcist.
“What?” Nya’s face jerks back in surprise. “How do you know that?” She runs a hand through our daughter’s long dark hair, the same shade as hers, and leans over her shoulder, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Cuz. I wish for the same thing every single year, and it never happens.”
“Oh.” My clueless ex-wife’s face falls. “Well, maybe just this one time, you can tell us, and we can help to make it come true?” Her big doe eyes find mine, brimming with concern for her little princess. She nods to me for approval, which I swiftly provide. Far be it from me to be the one to stop this train wreck.
“Don’t make promis—” Hannah starts to warn her best friend off before my eyes catch hers and I shake my head. She clears her throat, holding her hands up in resignation. “Go ‘head, El.”
“Okay…” Ellie starts, nibbling her thumb nail nervously as she fixes her stare on the tile floor. “I wished for you and Daddy to get married and for us to be a real family… like we were when I was a baby.”
Nya’s legs buckle, so I hold her a little tighter. For stability, of course. “Th—that’s your w—wish?”
“It’s stupid,” Ellie mutters, crossing her arms protectively over her heart. “That’s why I didn’t wanna say it.”
“It’s not stupid,” I assure her, my stomach twisting up into a huge knot. I don’t miss the pained look on Nya’s speechless face as I release my hold on her and our daughter lunges herself into my arms, sniffling into the crook of my neck.
“N-not all families look the same, Ellie,” my ex explains while rubbing circles on her back. “We’re still a family even if we don’t all live in the same house.”
My daughter stiffens at her words, schooling her features. “I know, Mom, but it’s not the same.”
Nya has worked really hard to make sure Ellie has been raised with two parents. Her guilt over being the one to initiate our divorce has always eaten at her. As hard as it is to be around Nya. To want her and never be able to act on it. To sit at the same fucking table with her and now her new boyfriend, Ryder. I’m here every holiday. Every birthday. Hell, every Sunday for family dinner. It’s as close to a two-parent home as we could give her without actually being together, but Ellie’s right, it’s not the same thing. Nowhere near it.