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The next note was almost as short, but not so sweet.
Charlotte, why in the hell would you keep something like this from me? Do you know . . .
Did I know what? This was maddening. I uncrumpled the next note.
Dear Charlotte, I can’t sleep for thinking about you. That night we stayed here together, it was the best . . .
The best what? Night of his life? Sex? What??? Why couldn’t he finish a thought? It was so like him. He never wanted to be too “human.” Have some actual feelings. Except for that weekend. He was very human, and I’d reveled in every second of it. No one had ever watched out for me the way he had. Not even Izzy, though I would never say that to her. And it wasn’t just that weekend. He had been an amazing boss. Even though I was his assistant, he’d always made sure I was taken care of. If I got cold on set, he had someone bring me a jacket. If I said, “I could really go for some fries right now,” guess who got fries? He even kept tampons in the glove compartment of all his cars just for me. Just like I would keep his favorite snacks and some Advil for him in my purse. We took care of each other.
I smoothed out the next note.
Dear Charlotte, Tell me what the hell I should do.
I had some suggestions.
The next note was filled with all his favorite four-letter words. I had to smile as I read them all with exclamation points and everything.
The next one wasn’t at all comical.
Charlotte, I’ve never been as livid with anyone as I am with you right now. What were you thinking?
He scratched a line through his angry words, but I felt them all the same.
I’ll tell you what I was thinking. I was scared and had never felt so lonely or vulnerable. My heart couldn’t stand one more rejection from him. But I know I should have told him about Jameson. I should have been more courageous and given Drake the chance to deliver the final blow to my heart and soul just like he had this morning. Maybe if I had done so long ago, I wouldn’t be sitting in this room mourning him. And if he thought he was livid, well, I wasn’t exactly happy with him either. He was so much better than he’d proven today.
I lay back and grabbed another note. It was the shortest of the bunch but packed the biggest punch.
Dear Charlotte, I’m sorry.
I held the note to my chest, while a few tears leaked out of my tired eyes. So much for me vanquishing him today. Dang him.
Chapter Seven
Jameson snuggled into my side while I read him some Dr. Seuss. I tried to be chipper while reading about green eggs and ham, but it had been an exhaustingly long day. Although, Jameson’s snuggles gave me a boost. I kissed his head while I turned the page. His sandy-brown curls were a good reminder that despite Drake’s choice, he’d given me Jameson, and I would be forever grateful to the idiot. Hate him, sure, but super thankful. Well, I wish I could hate him. I was trying to. Maybe it was the stage that came after mourning. Something to look forward to.
“Mom, are you sad?” Jameson had always been good at reading my mood. Too good.
“A little.” I always tried to be honest with him. You know, except for the whole firework and Uncle Sam thing.
“Do you miss your friend?”
I smoothed his brow. “What friend?”
“The man who stayed here and made you cry.”
I should have been better about reining in my emotions this morning, especially around Jameson.
“Is that why you were crying? Because you’re sad he left?” Jameson added.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. I was sad he left. Sad he didn’t even try to get to know our son. Sadder that he didn’t try, period. He couldn’t even finish a note to me.
“Maybe he’ll come back.” Jameson sounded hopeful on my behalf.
Oh. Knife in the heart, kiddo. “I don’t think so.” How was I ever going to tell my baby, that man is his father? The tears were back. Maybe I could hate Drake. I knew there would come a day when I would have to break my son’s heart. When I told him his father didn’t want to be a part of his life. That he was too chicken to be human.
“You could call him,” Jameson said so innocently.
I could actually call him. In one of the notes he’d left, he said he kept his number all these years just in case I decided to call again. He wrote, I promised myself if you ever called again, I wouldn’t be such a prick and I would answer the damn phone. It was the longest of his notes. But just like the others, it was crumpled up, which meant he didn’t truly want me to call him. Not like I would. I wasn’t going to beg him to try.
