Page 83 of Second Chances

Josh embraced Henry tightly and then turned to Sophie. “Do you want to come with us?”

“No, thank you. I’ll stay here.” They clasped hands and then, without glancing at his mother, Josh followed his wife.

Once Josh and Effie had left, Henry addressed Sophie. “I don’t know where you’re staying, but you are more than welcome to come to my house. You can have the place to yourself, if you wish, or I can stay there, too.” Desperate to provide something for his daughter in the way of support, Henry was determined not to dwell on the past, and would move heaven and earth to forge a relationship with her from this moment on. He planned to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart that could have held his daughter for the past quarter of a century.

“I’ve been staying at the Holiday Suites,” Sophie informed him, “for the past week. But I plan to look for an apartment here, if that’s okay with you and Josh.” At Henry’s shocked expression, she explained, “I figure I’ll stick around for a while. Get to know my dad, my brother.”

Melanie gasped, “Sophie, no! You can’t stay here.”

“I think the last thing you will do is keep my daughter from me for any longer.” He scowled at Melanie before gathering Sophie close, unable to stop the flow of tears. “I can’t wait to get to know you, my beautiful daughter. There’s so much I—” he stopped himself, afraid of overwhelming her. “It’s been a long day. You’re sure about the hotel?” At her nod, he said, “I’ll stop in tomorrow and take care of the bill. Do you want a ride over there?”

“No, I’m okay.” Sophie kissed his cheek, and he yearned for the unknown number of affectionate gestures his ex-wife had robbed him of over the years. She sighed. “Mom, if you think you can behave yourself, you can stay with me tonight.” Henry’s pride swelled, knowing that Sophie had his forgiving heart.

Melanie’s face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Soph. I always wanted to tell you⁠—”

Sophie shook her head. “I’m really not interested in hearing excuses, though, and we will have an intense conversation about this tomorrow. But,” Sophie sighed again, “you are still my mother, and I love you. I’m sure you have some messed-up reason for doing what you did that makes sense to only you.”

“Thank you, baby,” Melanie bowed her head, then looked over to Henry. “Can we talk a bit more?”

“I have little to say to you right now.” With Sophie taken care of, all he wanted, all he needed, was to find Charlotte, surround himself in her loving embrace, and sleep for the rest of the night. To Sophie, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” and with one last hug and a kiss to her forehead, he left, without sparing Melanie a backward glance, much the same way she had left him so many years ago.

At long last, using the key Charlotte had given him, Henry let himself into her house, craving the comfort and peace that he could only find with her. Disappointed to find her gone from the dance, he was hoping to find her still awake, but his shoulders fell when he entered her bedroom to find her curled on her side in bed, aglow from moonlight streaming in through the French doors, with the sheets tangled around her waist. Heartbeat accelerating at the sight of her wearing his undershirt, her chest straining the cotton, he fumbled to remove his own clothing. In just his boxers, he slipped into bed behind her, spooning her as closely as he could.

“Henry.” Half asleep, the heat from his chest burned into her back, “I was having the most delicious dream about you, and now you’re here.” Without him next to her, she had tossed and turned.

“I’m here,” he assured her, every emotion from today charging through him: joy, shock, sadness, guilt, and betrayal; the anger he had pushed away once he crossed into the bedroom. With Charlotte, could he find the clarity he desperately needed? Fingers on the soft swell of her stomach, he groaned as her bottom dug into his groin when she scooted even closer to him. “Charlotte,” he breathed into her ear, her small hoop earring tickling his mouth.

With his solid strength behind her, still drowsy from her dream of him, she awoke aroused and ground herself into the evidence that he felt the same. His hand drifted from her stomach, over her hips, across her thighs, and she opened her knees to grant him better access, desiring him to the point of madness.

Lush thighs enveloped his hand, he shivered, discovering she was ready for him. Rolling onto her back, her hands reached for the hem of the tank she wore, ready to pull it off, when he stilled her. “Don’t,” he commanded, his voice husky with need. Ripe and sensual, the sight of her in his shirt drove him to insanity. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” His lips descended to the swells of her breasts as his thumbs dragged down her underwear, his fingers seeking her heat.

Charlotte tugged insistently at his hair, but she couldn’t deter Henry, and his mouth followed his hands, her hips lifting from the bed. “Henry,” she implored, until he rose above her quivering form, with her thighs in his hands. They matched each other, thrust for thrust, her cloudy brown gaze capturing his stormy blue one. “I love you,” she thought, and he collapsed into her arms.

“Charlotte, if that was too rough or if you weren’t expecting⁠—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, his head on her chest, her hand stroking his back. “I knew you’d come to me. When I woke up with you here—” Tears clogged her voice, and she was afraid to continue in case her emotions overwhelmed him. He’d already dealt with so much and didn’t need the burden of her expressing the depth of her feelings.

“Hey.” He raised his head, thumbing a tear from the corner of her eye. “What’s the matter?”

Unable to keep what she had gleaned tonight to herself, she admitted, “I know, Henry.”

Henry stilled, his hand cupping Charlotte’s cheek. Dread filled him. “Know what?” Could she have found out about Sophie? Had she seen Melanie with him? What would her reaction be to it all?

“I know about your daughter, Henry…Sophie.” Charlotte ached with empathy. “I was coming to find you, and I heard you outside.”

Bringing himself up on his elbow, he met her eyes; the chocolate orbs swam with understanding. “You did?”

“I’m so sorry. Just finding out now, after all these years, I can’t imagine how you must feel. I’m assuming her mother is…Melanie?” A shadow crossed Henry’s handsome face. Was any of this her business? Should she have waited for him to tell her? “Never mind,” she rushed on, “we don’t have to talk about it.” She regretted they hadn’t discussed their relationship before now, ironed out what they were to each other, because she had no claim on his information.

Sitting up against Charlotte’s headboard, with the sheet at his waist, he confirmed, “Sophie. She’s my daughter.” His hand held Charlotte’s. “And yes, Melanie is Sophie’s mom. It seems that when my ex-wife left us, she was pregnant. Claims she had no choice. At least, that’s what she said tonight.” Disgust bloomed in Henry once again for his ex and her excuses, after spending too long outside listening to her, with mascara staining her face, when the only truth he needed to know was that she had kept his daughter from him. Had it not been for Sophie figuring it out, he would still be in the dark about her.

“Tonight? What do you mean?” Apprehensive, her stomach twisted. “Did you talk to her?”

Dragging a hand over his face, knowing there was no way to avoid it, he confirmed, “Yes. She showed up tonight.”

“What? Here?” It was one thing for him to hear from her on the phone, but for Melanie to have the audacity to show up in person? Henry had been right all along to be worried, Charlotte thought.

“When I was outside with Sophie and Josh, somehow she found us and started in on me right away. Accused me of making her feel trapped and confused, which is why she left me…why she kept my daughter from me. Said she never fit in with my family, that no one cared about her. She also said she was wasting away in Clover Lake and that I stole her dreams from her.”