Page 25 of Single Mom’s Secret Diary (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

Avery

I ’m panicking. Absolutely, heart-wrenching, I’m gasping for breath, panicking. Ezra’s arm guiding me is the only reason my feet are still under me.

Charlie’s been hit before. Knocked down. Bled. But he’s always gotten up after.

“Hey. He’ll be fine.”

Ezra’s voice breaks through, and I nod, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. He cups my face as I open them again.

“You ready?”

He’s so steady, calm. I place my hands over his and nod.

“Okay.” Ezra looks behind me, and I realize Dad has gathered up our things and followed. He’s as calm as Ezra, so I must be overreacting. I am. I know I am, but it’s so hard to stop.

I stuck in two deep breaths, and then we walk into the locker room. Charlie is sitting on a bench with the medic. A brace and ice are on Charlie’s arm, and they’re fitting him into a sling.

Covering my mouth, I pause to keep myself from crying. Charlie spots me and rolls his eyes.

“It’s just a broken arm, Mom. I’m okay.”

I give him a watery laugh.

“Did you see? I did the trick, and it worked.” His enthusiasm and bright spirit are keeping me together if only for the moment because we still have to take him to the hospital to get checked out. X-rays, a full cast, and pain. It’s going to come when the shock and adrenaline wear off.

Ezra is talking with the medic as I sit beside Charlie.

“You did an amazing job.”

“Mom. Why are you crying like I’m dying? I’m fine.” He looks absolutely aggravated with me.

“You broke your arm. It’s going to start hurting pretty soon. And we need to take you to the hospital.”

He sighs. “I know. But most of it got better after they set it.”

Ezra is shaking the medic’s hand and returning to me. “We’ll take my car. Come on.”

“What? Why?” I stand and meet Dad’s eyes. He shakes his head.

“It’s a smooth ride, less bumps to jar him.”

I don’t have it in me to fight with him about it, so I just nod and let him and my dad usher us out. I buckle Charlie in and hold him against me to keep him from sliding into the door on turns. Ezra’s gaze catches mine in the rearview mirror every time we stop.

It takes us twenty minutes to get to the ER, and it’s a longer wait inside. I’m pacing, trying to keep my temper in check as Ezra sweet talks to the nurses and Dad distracts Charlie. But we get a room in a few hours, and the nurses take Charlie off to get X-rays.

Ezra pauses next to the doorway, where we’re all hovering. “I’m going to go grab some coffee. I think we could use it.”

“Thanks.” My voice is far quieter than I’m used to because even though we’re in the middle of something big here—for me, for Charlie, for my dad—Ezra and I have something big going on, too. He’s been watching more closely since Charlie asked who he is to me.

Now that Dad and I are alone, though, he turns to me with his arms crossed and that patent disapproving look from when I’m in trouble. It might have been a rare occurrence, but I still recognize this arrangement of his features and the spark in his eyes.

I sigh, waiting for it.

“He’s the father, isn’t he?” The softness of his tone drives my guilt deeper.

I gnaw on my lip and nod.

“Does he know?”

I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself to keep it all from falling apart.

“Bambina. What are you doing? Why have you not told him?” Finally, he steps forward, bracing me by my shoulders. I’m ready to break, but I struggle hard against it. Dad’s softness doesn’t shake the disappointment.

It amplifies it.

“How am I supposed to after ten years?” The task feels insurmountable, but what did I expect when I invited him to one of Charlie’s games? It’s not like my son looks like me .

Dad tips my forehead into his shoulder and hugs me—hard. “Before, you had an excuse. What do you have now? Fear? You get over it and do what must be done for Charlie.”

Because that’s the crux of it. Charlie. He deserves to know his dad. And Ezra deserves to know his son. Just because it wasn’t possible before doesn’t mean it shouldn’t happen now.

But this is going to disrupt both of their lives so much. How can I do it to them?

“You’ve done much harder things, bambina . Much harder. You can do this.” Dad rubs my back for long minutes before Ezra returns.

He hands us both paper cups of coffee, and Dad pats my shoulder. “I’m going to stretch my legs.”

Once Dad is out of sight, the silence stretches, and I’m so, so tired. I sink down into a chair and cover my face with my hand.

Dark sneakers appear on either side of my feet. My coffee cup is lifted from my hand without my even having tasted it, and I collapse into myself a little further.

I’ve never shied away from having a hard conversation before, but the shock of seeing my son get hurt and winding up in a hospital has worn me down. Maybe the adrenaline is breaking, leaving me weak-kneed and fragile.

But I haven’t been fragile in a long, long time. Not since I came home from Spring Break and discovered I was pregnant with Charlie and had no way of finding Ezra. I’d lived in a fragile space for so long because of my own stupid decisions.

Although having him is the best thing I’ve ever done, I grieved losing what could have been with Ezra for so long after.

Sucking in a breath and steeling myself, I drop my hands and stand. Ezra is less than a foot away, watching me with a mix of worry and frustration. It’s so similar to my first week at work for him that I nearly laugh at putting myself in this position.

“So, Charlie… He’s, um…”

Ezra lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head.

He knows. He already knows, so why does it feel impossible to admit?

Those dark brown eyes take me in, and he sighs.

Fine. Just rip the Band-Aid off. Say it, and let the chips fall where they may. Because I can’t play this off, and I can’t keep it in any longer.

“He’s yours.” Somehow, I’ve found the strength to say it with a steady voice, like we’re talking about the weather and not that I gave birth to a son he didn’t know about for the last nine years. That he should have known about for at least these last five weeks I’ve been working at his company.

My shoulders draw back to keep me from wobbling as Ezra closes his eyes. His head tips back, and he takes a deep breath.

I can’t tell how upset he is, but as much as I try to pull myself into my usual ice queen, nothing can touch my state of mind.

I’m trembling. Folding my arms around myself is my only defense as I wait for him to condemn me.

To stomp off cursing my name. To promise he’ll fight me for custody.

To tell me he wants nothing to do with me now.

I wish I hadn’t let all of those walls fall from around my heart because being vulnerable is not easy for me.

Neither is waiting, but I do. I wait.