Alpha CEO
Page 65
Chapter THIRTY
—Autumn—
Now
Julian wasn’t working, and neither was I. After the afternoon in his office last week, things had taken a turn for us. We started doing things as a family. Eating all our meals together, taking Capri to all of Julian’s favorite places, and showing her a bit of our history. My favorite day was today—we took her to her first rodeo.
“Capri, your momma had a first here too.”
“Julian…”
He leaned into her ear. “You want to know what it was?”
“Yesssss!”
Julian didn’t heed my warning, simply stating, “She got her first kiss here.”
I groaned, leaning against my seat.
“What?! Momma, who was your first kiss?”
“You’re looking at him,” he casually replied.
“Oh my God! Daddy was your first kiss? That’s so romantic.”
“Romantic isn’t the word I’d use for it.”
“Kid, I almost beat up your date for you. I think that classifies as romantic.”
“You did?” Capri asked, completely enthralled and amazed that her father was suddenly Prince Charming.
“Your mom tried to make me jealous with a boy who was half my size.”
“He was not half your size.”
“The boy was a wimp. I would have swept the floor with him. It’s the only reason I didn’t. He would have wound up in the hospital, and everyone would have learned about us.”
“What do you mean ‘learn about you,’ Daddy?”
“Your mom and I were secretly seeing each other without your grandparents and uncle knowing.”
“Julian!” I scolded. “You did not just tell her that!”
“You want me to lie to our daughter?”
“Yeah, Momma, you want him to lie to your daughter?”
I laughed, it had become two against one.
“Tell me more, Daddy. Why did you have to hide?”
“Well, your uncle was very protective of your mom.”
“Oh yeah,” Capri agreed, nodding. “He’s like that with me too.”
Julian smiled. It was obvious he appreciated Christian looking out for our baby girl.”
“So what happened?”
“It’s a long story,” I stated, not wanting to talk about this anymore.
“It’s okay. We’re in the intermission. Tell me, Daddy. I want to know.”
Of course, he gave her what she wanted. “Your uncle used to be my best friend.”
“Oh,” Capri breathed out. “I didn’t know that. He’s never talked about you before. Is that why you left, Momma?”
“Something like that.”
She scratched her head. “Do Grammy and Grampy know who you are?”
“They do. Your grandparents did a lot for me back then. I didn’t have a family.”
“What do you mean you didn’t have a family?”
“My parents gave me up when I was born, and I was raised in foster homes.”
Her mouth parted. “They gave you up? Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m a better man for it.”
She grabbed his hand and then mine, linking ours together. “It’s okay. Because now you have us. We’re your family. Right, Momma?”
Julian and I locked eyes.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Now you have us.”
He beamed, not trying to hide it.
“Can you tell me more?”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
And he wasn’t lying. Capri didn’t stop until she knew everything about us. She’d spent most of the rodeo asking Julian our history versus watching the bull riders. As much as I loved watching the show, I couldn’t help but pay attention to his every word.
Later that night, when we got back to the house, I went up to my bedroom and grabbed the photo albums I’d brought with me before I went back downstairs to find them on the couch, watching a movie. Capri was tucked into the crook of his arm, and I sat down beside her.
“Momma!” She recognized her baby album. “I didn’t know you brought these.”
“I did,” I replied to her, only looking at her father. “I brought them for you too, Julian.”
—Julian—
Capri grabbed her baby book, placing it on her lap. “Daddy, do you want to see?”
Unable to find the words of what I was feeling, I simply nodded. Her little hands opened the photo album, and right there in front of my eyes was a picture of her birth.
“She was six pounds, five ounces, and I was in labor for thirty-six hours.”
It was like I was there, but I wasn’t. It was the first time in I don’t know how long that I felt so unbelievably helpless. I thrived on being in control, and in that moment, I had none. The more photos Capri showed me, the further my heart fucking broke. I’d never felt pain like this before. Not even when I’d left Autumn.
To see the last nine years of her life playing out before my eyes was a kick to my fucking stomach.
Autumn continued narrating all the pictures. From the first time she’d crawled, walked, ate solid food, to her first birthday, her first bike, her first everything. I’d missed it all. The longer I sat there hearing Autumn’s voice and seeing all those memories I’d missed because she didn’t tell me we had a daughter, the further the pain inside of me grew, and it quickly turned into anger.