Authors: Callie Anderson
Torrid Affair (29 page)
Nate had rented an apartment near his old home so he was close to Caleb. He wanted his son’s life to change as little as possible. It was hard when there was a pending divorce and a three-way custody battle, but Nate managed to juggle it all.
At first, Delaney had wanted to fight for full and sole custody. She only wanted Caleb to hurt Nate. But she quickly changed her mind when Nate and Austin joined forces. Austin’s lawyer informed the judge that she'd told him she had aborted the pregnancy, and Nate's lawyer confirmed she lied to him as well, stating she was pregnant with
his
child. After that, Delaney's lawyer backed down.
I never went with Nate to any court hearings. At one point in our lives Delaney and I were attached at the hips, but now we were adversaries, so I stayed away. I didn't want to add any additional fuel to the fire.
The three of them agreed to joint custody. Caleb would spend the majority of his time with Delaney, Monday through Thursday morning. She wasn’t the best mother, verbally abusive at time, but the judge decided that living in a house that had always been his home was best for Caleb. The dads would have alternating weekends Thursday afternoons to Sunday nights.
I was passed out on Yve's couch after a full day of work when Nate called me late one night.
“Hello?” I said sleepily.
“Hey,” Nate whispered into the phone. I knew from the tone of his voice something was bothering him.
“What's wrong, my love?”
“We're telling Caleb about Austin tomorrow. What the hell do I say to him? It's bad enough he blames himself for the divorce. What should I do, Brie?”
“Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Yes,” he sighed.
“Tell Caleb the truth. He's a smart kid, and he’s almost eleven. Tell him the truth from the very beginning. Tell him all of it. Tell him he's not losing you as a father. He's getting two other people in his life who love him very much.”
“Two?”
I felt the smile grow on my face. “Me, silly. His getting Austin and me.”
Nate sighed. “I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have you around.”
“Tell me.” I stretched my arms over my head.
“I love you, Brielle.”
“And I, you, Nathaniel.”
* * *
S
ix months later
.
The last time I left Chicago was out of fear. I was headed toward the unknown desperate for a change. And I’d been weak. Julian had destroyed the person I once was.
But this time it was different.
I
was different.
“I’ll be down there once you’ve set up my room,” Yve joked and hugged me again. I nodded, and she turned to Nate. “Satan,” she sighed and placed her hands on his shoulder. “You break my girl’s heart again, and I’ll break your legs. That’s a promise, not a threat.”
“Yve!” I shook my head and Nate laughed.
“I love you too, Yve.” He hugged her. “And don’t worry. The last thing I plan on doing is hurting her.”
We said good-bye to my hometown and welcomed our new adventure. All seemed right with the world.
We were getting our second chance.
L
eaving
my crap in the car, I rushed inside. I'd flown down for the final walk-through of the house, but Nate had painted since then and added a few new touches that I couldn't wait to see in person.
Before I reached the front door, Nate scooped me in his arms, and I squealed. I threw my head back and laughed as he opened the door to our home. He walked us through the main foyer and up the stairs.
“Wait!” I tried to kick my feet, but he held his grip and chuckled. “I want to see the backsplash in the kitchen,” I whined.
“I have something I want you to see first.” He leaned down to give me a quick kiss. At first, I thought he wanted to show me our master bedroom so we could christen it, but when Nate walked to the last bedroom, I cocked an eyebrow at him.
He balanced me with one hand and twisted the knob to the door. My giggles immediately vanished when I was greeted with the studio. A built-in bookshelf ran across one wall, empty of books. Instead, there were empty canvases, paintbrushes, and every color of paint I could ask for. On another wall was a large picture of the Bissell House.
Nate lowered me to the floor and faced me toward the easel. “Do you like?” he whispered into the crook of my neck.
“I . . . I . . . love it.” I turned back to him. “But why?”
Nate pulled an envelope from the shelf and handed it to me. “Go ahead.” He tried to hide his grin. “Open it.”
My fingers slid under the flap, and I pulled out the few sheets of paper. My eyes scanned the first page, and I flipped through the others. “This is my transcript from UNNC.”
Nate closed the gap between us. His hand framed my face, and he gave me a half kiss. “This is
our
second chance, but it's also
your
chance to follow your dream. You can sit in here and draw. You can go back to school and finish. You can major in art and be a curator.”
I threw my hands around his neck and kissed him with every fiber of my soul. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lip.
Letting go of Nate, I walked toward the bookshelf. My hand ran across the cream wood. “This is a dream come true.”
“Almost.” Nate said. He paused for a second before he uttered, “There's one more thing.”
I turned to face him and I gasped. Nate was down on one knee, in the center of the room. “Brielle, I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. I promise to walk into the sunset with you, to make sure that every kiss we share gives you the urge to throw your leg back. I promise to give you half kisses every night before you go to sleep and to love you unconditionally all the days of my life. Will you marry me?” He held out a small black box and flipped it opened.
I felt the warm tears slide down my cheeks. I bit my lower lip to contain my smile. “Yes.” I whispered and walked toward him. “Yes!” I said and laced my arms around his neck. “Yes!” I kissed his lips tenderly.
“Tell me.” He kissed the corner of my lips.
“I love you. I always have and I always will. Even when I hated you, I loved you,” I said before our lips collided. Nate lifted me off the floor and I actually kicked my foot back. Sometimes bad things happened. But other times the world worked in mysterious ways.
Who said happily-ever-afters were overrated?
The End.
I
’m going
to make this simple and quick.
To Sassy Savvy Fabulous, Give Me Books, Okay Creation, Indie After Hours, White Hot Reads and Write Girl, thank you for all your help with Torrid Affair.
To the beta readers, test readers and anyone who read this book while I was writing it, thank you for your time and notes.
To the authors who have read Torrid Affair, thank you for the friendship.
To the bloggers, I would be nothing without you. Thank you for sharing my work.
Lastly the readers. I FUCKING LOVE YOU! Thank you for reading my books and becoming my friends. I cherish you all in my heart.
For more information you can find me:
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* * *
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