The moment that text appeared on my screen, I knew I had to haul some serious ass back to the apartment.
My heart’s thumping out of my chest, my breaths barely able to escape as I desperately try to stop Charlotte from having to see any of this. I open the text message again, and it definitely is Roxy with dark brown hair, not her usual bleached blonde, one wrist handcuffed to my bed, she’s barely dressed with her legs spread open as she fingers herself.
Unknown number: You wanna taste this again, Lex? Every finger has been in my cunt. Come and get it, baby.
I hate that word, it screams ‘whore.’ I clench my phone, the grip so forceful I can feel it dig into the palm of my hand. The fucking bitch, who does she think she is, and how on earth did she get in!
The elevator is irritatingly slow, and the moment the doors open, I run up to the main bedroom. Roxy is lying on my bed with a smug look on her face as BJ is consoling Charlotte. Even as her husband, there’s no getting through to Charlotte. The pain she’s experiencing is impossible to ignore, her eyes glassy and her posture sunken. BJ holding onto her is questioning my trust, but right now I don’t have a leg to stand on. The damage of my colorful past is sitting right there on my bed.
Charlotte walks away without saying a word. I pull her to me, needing her so desperately, looking for a sign, any sign that she isn’t leaving me. She can barely look me in the eye, but then she says the words calming me the hell down—she isn’t leaving me. I breathe a huge sigh of relief until she mentions him.
It rips through me, the blades slicing me slowly. The cuts are deep, they are starting to bleed. Inside, I’m screaming, the pain so unbearable and the heat, the burning sensation is crawling throughout my skin until finally the doors close behind her, and I’m left with nothing.
All that turns into rage as I stomp back to the room. Without any words, I uncuff Roxy and drag her off the bed. She kicks and screams, calling me every dirty name possible, but I don’t care. I push her into the elevator and press the button to the lobby. When the doors open, everyone turns to look as I pull her arm and push her out of the building and onto the street. Standing there, barely dressed, she curses my name loud enough that across the street people turn, but I simply walk away.
I ride the elevator back upstairs. The first thing I need to do is change my security code and call a locksmith, but suddenly I stop, realizing this place holds nothing for me. This isn’t my home, that’s why I was so reluctant to come back here. This place is a reminder of how I was institutionalized for the last few years. How I was drowning in my own mistakes without a lifejacket to save me.
Pulling my phone out, I call Kate, briefly explaining what happened. She isn’t surprised and also gives me a lecture on my past behavior. Normally, she wouldn’t have had the balls to say shit like that to me, but more so in this moment, I need a friend rather than an employee. I give her instructions to put the penthouse on the market. I’m saying goodbye to another piece of my past.
My vision is blurred as I hear a noise. I have had several drinks trying to erase the memory of the dickhead fucking my Charlotte in what is our home in New York. I close my eyes, willing the torture to stop.
Suddenly, I feel her beside me as she sits down. The silence falls over the room, and she is quick to break it. Charlotte sounds cold, her tone stiff. I’ve grown accustom to this trait as it’s her defensive-lawyer voice. Somewhere in the middle of her words, she slowly slips, and the true Charlotte reveals herself by telling this lame story about college.
The corners of my mouth curl involuntarily, my shoulders moving as I struggle to hold in small fits of laughter bubbling to the surface. Here I am thinking Charlotte is some sex demon with a sordid past, just to be reminded that it’s so far from the truth. Her double-groping session at a drunken frat party is her closest encounter to a ménage à trois. It’s laughable, but somewhere in my insane reasoning, the images find their way back, and I blurt out the pain she caused me.
She doesn’t deny it. Do I honestly believe she is telling lies? And so, it’s done. Parts of our past are brought to the surface once again, and no matter what happens, no matter what we say, every part of me still wants every part of her.
We hit a hurdle but together, we jumped and made it to the other side.
London turns out to be a blessing and a curse. The whole Roxy thing put a massive dampener on the end leg of our so-called honeymoon. The positive being able to restructure the London office which means I will no longer need to be here.
I’m back to being a red-blooded American.
***
Life in New York is busy with Kate and me running the office. Our staff count is larger than London, and business booms. I manage to keep my hours down, wanting to spend as much alone time as possible with Charlotte before the baby comes. It means learning the art of delegation, something I’ve struggled with my whole life, but with Kate, I can trust her.
She proves to be exactly what I need and never once lets me down.
We are still living in Charlotte’s apartment much to my annoyance, however, I’m only tolerating this because bigger things are on the horizon. With life being chaotic combined with our last argument when looking at places to buy, it’s been placed on the backburner but for a very good reason.
I’d been reluctant to broach the subject with Charlotte about a possible move to the West Coast. It’s been in the pipeline for a few years, but I had recently been approached by a head executive of one of the top production companies in LA looking for an investor. But I know Charlotte loves Manhattan, her career and most importantly—her friends. Her whole life is here, and a part of me doesn’t want to cause additional stress because of the baby.
“Yay, Kate’s here. She better have brought that Chinese take-out or you’re toast, Edwards.”
Charlotte makes her way to the front door. Instead of their usual hug, Kate bends down and rubs Charlotte’s stomach. With Charlotte in her second trimester, her stomach is beginning to bulge, and her tits are fucking amazing. By far the best part of pregnancy.
“So, what are we celebrating?” Charlotte asks Kate while unscrewing the cork off a bottle of wine.
Kate glances at me, surprised I haven’t mentioned anything. “Well, I’ve been promoted.”
Charlotte immediately turns my way with a curious stare. “Congratulations! To what?”
Here we go.
Five… four… three… two… one…
“Director of the New York office…” Kate pauses, her eyes warning me now is the time to reveal the reason why.
“But wait a minute, then what will Lex do?”
“I would be busy with other projects on the West Coast…”
I wait bravely for the ball to drop.
“I’m a little confused here, so please pass me the last eggroll so I can get this right.” Kate hands her the last eggroll, which she munches on. “When you say ‘West Coast,’ do you mean us or you?”
“Us, Charlotte. I wanted to speak to you about this earlier, but the deal was only sealed this afternoon. Dreamteam Studios needs an investor, and I’ve wanted to get into production for a long time. They are located in LA.”
“So, we will need to move to LA? And when?” she questions rather calmly.
“Yes, we will need to move to LA, and probably after the baby is born. Look, Charlotte, I know it’s a lot to take in, your practice is here, and so are your friends… it’s just—”
“It is a lot to take in, and I wish you would have spoken to me about it when it first came up,” she clips, narrowing her eyes with annoyance. “Yes, I will miss my friends, and as for my practice, well, Nikki and I are looking at expanding anyway.”
“Wait, you mean you want to go?”
“It’ll be nice to start fresh, and Manhattan is too crowded to raise a baby. I just have one condition,” she demands, keeping her expression stern.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Oh, not a condition for you but for Kate.” Charlotte grins playfully.
Kate looks at me, shrugging her shoulders in confusion. “Err… what’s that?”
“That I get custody of Eric.”
We all laugh. Yes, even me. Eric has entertained me with his sick humor on more than one occasion, and if it makes Charlotte happy, then I’m happy.
“But I get him on the holidays,” Kate argues.
“Deal.”
They shake on it, and I can’t be happier that soon we will start a new life in LA. With my nerves disappearing, I realize I should have been honest from the start. I need to give Charlotte the respect she deserves, and there’s no more hiding behind my own insecurities.
Planning to move to LA is a huge task in of itself. I find myself flying back and forth with the paranoia Charlotte will give birth at any moment. She’s only in her thirty-second week, but I can’t shake the worry, so I have my mom stay with her every time I have to fly out. Charlotte doesn’t complain. They can talk babies all day, and as much as I love my baby, an hour-long conversation discussing diaper genies is tedious.
Charlotte is busy scouting houses on the internet, and after a whirlwind trip to LA, we find a house nestled in the Hollywood Hills we both instantly fall in love with. It’s a Spanish-style home, full of character and plenty of space. Our neighbors are big-shot celebrities, but Miss Charming won them over, discussing once again—diaper genies. That’s my cue to leave. I busily inspect the home and put in an offer. It will be home as soon as the baby is born, and we are able to fly over.
Charlotte finds herself busy with Nikki, planning out the new LA practice. Eric, as predicted, is eager to move out to Hollywood, his constant texts begging me to use my connections and locate where Matthew McConaughey lives. I keep reminding him that I won’t be the one to bail him out of jail should he violate the restraining order I have, no doubt, will be placed against him.
Mason & Romano already has a client base, mainly their clients from New York who have moved to the West Coast. Between that and being heavily pregnant, I warn Charlotte to slow down.
“If I slow down now, then it’ll be all downhill from here,” she complains.
“Charlotte, having a baby is not going downhill,” I say, trying to ease her fear.
“Well, of course, you would say that, you don’t have a giant head coming out of your vagina!”
And the worst part of the third trimester is the mood swings. One minute she’s counting down the days to finally holding the baby, and the next she is talking about going downhill. I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain. I should be sympathetic since I’m not the one who has to physically go through this.
Then there is the sex.
It’s becoming difficult.
Charlotte has never looked more beautiful, and my desire for her only intensifies, but much like a box of assorted candy, I don’t know what I’m getting. I make a move, and she’s riding me faster than a bucking bull, but then, I make another move, and she recoils and complains that my cock is too big and full of sperm, and it’s what got her in this ‘fat’ state to begin with.
Hormones, Lex… blame the hormones.
The sex has become challenging as her stomach grows, and doggy style has fast become a favorite. I’m not complaining, just taking whatever I can.
Late one Friday night, Charlotte, Eric, Kate, and I are in our apartment packing up boxes. The three of them decide to rent Magic Mike, much to my disapproval. At what point they actually think I need or even want to watch men strip on stage is beyond me.
“Okay, listen, I’m heading out to Rocky’s. I need to hang out with testosterone because Eric, you’ve really let the team down,” I complain.
“Lex, I’m not on Team Pussy. I’m Team Wang. Look, I’m even wearing my Team Wang shirt!” He unzips his jacket, and there it is in bold for the whole world to see.
I kiss Charlotte goodbye and head out to Rocky’s. Nikki and Will are in Jersey visiting Nikki’s mom, so I’m not surprised one bit when I arrive, and Rocky is watching porn. The moans and groans can be heard down the hallway, the idiot even has it on surround sound.
“You better not be hard,” I warn him.
“Nah, I jerked off already. This is just the after show.” He grins.
And so, we sit there watching porn until Elijah arrives. He doesn’t look himself, and Rocky suggests he watch some girl-on-girl action to liven up his mood. I’m not sure if it works, but he manages to piss Rocky off by talking throughout the whole thing. According to Rocky, porn must be watched in silence.
Halfway through the movie, Whores’R’Us, I receive a text from Charlotte.
Charlotte: So you need to come home RIGHT now. I love you baby but seriously Magic Mike has flooded the channels if you know what I mean.
I have to laugh, the old Lex would have been a jealous prick reading that, but somehow, I’ve loosened up over the past few months, probably because she’s my wife and carrying my baby. I don’t need any more reassurance than that.
I text her back saying I’ll be home soon to take care of the problem, and Rocky is more than happy to see us leave. He has changed movies and is now watching Ass-ablanca. He warns us his dick is out of control, and unless we want to watch him jerk off, we need to leave immediately.
Elijah and I are out of there so fast, you can hear Rocky’s zipper.
Outside the apartment block, Elijah is still quiet, and I know something’s off. He asks me to join him for coffee, and as much as I need horny Charlotte, something tells me Elijah needs me more. I send her a text saying I’m going to be a little bit late and not to fall asleep. She doesn’t respond, so I assume it means she probably already has.
As we order our coffees, Elijah nervously plays with the sugar packets until he finds the courage to speak.
“The cancer is back.”
I place my steaming hot coffee down with a slight tremble, trying to figure out if I heard him right. His deadly silence indicates I did. “How? And where?”
He pauses then states, “Prostate, again. I was told it was contained, and the chemo worked, but my test last week shows abnormal cells, and well, it’s back.”
“Does Adriana know?”
“No. I haven’t told her yet. She’s been doing IVF treatment, and she’s under a lot of stress.”
“Elijah, I don’t think trying for a baby is best right now. What if…”
Shit! I want to retract the words.
I didn’t mean for it to come out so morbid, but why the hell are they even thinking about starting a family now?
“I know, and I’m not sure how to bring this up.”
“Listen, if you need my help…”
My phone startles me. It’s Charlotte. I hit reject knowing she will understand.
“There is this clinic in Australia. They have advanced chemo treatments, but there is a year-long waiting list.”
“Elijah, of course. Text me the details, and I’ll get on it ASAP, but listen, you really need to tell Adriana as well as Mom and Dad.”
The phone rings again. My mind isn’t thinking straight, so I hit reject. Elijah’s cancer is the worst possible news right now, and I can’t shake how ill and sad I feel. I only have to look at Elijah to remember what he’s going through is a million times worse.
“Thanks, brother. Can you believe this? Someone up there has it in for me.” Elijah sighs.
“We’ll get through this. We did it once, and we can do it again.”
As I say the words, my phone vibrates.
“Someone really wants your attention.” He laughs.
I pull out my phone and read the text, my heart leaping out of my mouth.
Charlotte: ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE MY WATER JUST BROKE!
It’s showtime.
Fuck, I’m not ready.
I’m going to be a father.
Me, Lex Edwards, has to take care of a baby. What the hell do I know about babies?
“Lex, are you okay? You look… pale.”
“The baby… it’s coming.”
Elijah’s eyes widen as he stands, throwing some bills onto the table.
“In the words of Rocky, let’s get the hell out of here, dude.”
