Fulfillment(78)

“Do you think she has made friends yet?”

I smiled through my sadness. “Of course she has. I think she has lots of friends, Darling.”

Charlotte nodded and returned my smile mildly.

“So, Mum, I was right then. She was a girl.”

I looked at Bryce then back at Charli. We had decided to open the envelope a few days ago to see if our baby was a boy or a girl, but I had chosen not to look at the picture—I was not ready for that yet.

“Yes, Charli, you were right.” A tear fell from my eye.

Nate left my side and returned instantly with a tissue.

“Thank you, little man.” I kissed his head and tucked him back into my arms.

“Mum, what was her name?” Charli asked quietly.

Bryce took a deep breath. “Well, your Mum and I thought that you could choose her name, Charlotte.”

She looked up at Bryce then gave him a hug. “Okay, I will pick the prettiest name ever.”

He hugged her back. “I know you will, Charli.”





***

We finished our breakfast together and answered more of Charlotte’s questions. Bryce was incredible and seemed to have the most amazing explanations for her, ones where she would understand almost right away. Seeing her expression change from nervous curiosity to understanding made me feel so much better, and the apprehensive weight of this encounter that I was carrying around lifted, just like Jessica said it would.

“Are you alright?” Bryce asked as the kids made their way upstairs.

“Yeah, I am. That was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but it just proved to me how wonderful and special my children are. I’m so unbelievably proud of them both. And you...you just blow me away. Your ability to handle difficult situations is remarkable. I’m so blessed to have you.” I wrapped my arms around his waist just as Lucy and Nic walked into the kitchen with Alexander.

I couldn’t look Nic in the eye, I was still slightly pissed with her accusing me of flirting with Bryce’s best friend. It was none of her business and she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. I mean, fuck! I was only talking to the guy and watching him play the guitar. I wasn’t salivating or flashing him my tits.

“How’d it go?” Lucy knowingly asked Bryce.

“Yeah, okay, those two children are pretty bloody awesome, just like their mum.” He gave me a loving wink. Lucy smiled.

“There’s some left over waffles if you both want them,” he said as he pointed to the plate on the bench.

Lucy took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Thanks, but your Eggs Benedict are my fav,” she batted her eyes at him in the hope he’d cook them for her.

He raised his eyebrow and smirked at her. Interpreting that expression as an acceptance of her request, I unwrapped my arms from around his waist and took a seat at the breakfast bar. Bryce cemented my interpretation by turning to the fridge and taking out the carton of eggs.

Sitting one seat away, I leaned in and baited her. “Tell me again, who has power over him?”

She looked up through her lashes toward Bryce and answered quietly. “My methods are different from yours.”

“Yes, I know,” I replied.

“So, big bro, what time does your flight leave tomorrow?”

I slumped over the bench, having been reminded by Lucy that Bryce was flying to Sydney the next day then on to Brisbane—I would not see him until Friday.

“9 a.m. Why?” he asked, as he blended egg yolks, lemon juice and water together.

“You’re gonna miss Alexis’ appointment with the surgeon to have the plaster removed.”

He looked at me apologetically. “I know. I can cancel if you want me to come.”

“No, don’t be silly, I’ll be fine. Anyway, you’ve neglected far too much of your work for me lately. You can’t keep doing that.”

“No you can’t...” Lucy interrupted. “So, as I was saying, seeing as I’ll be the one taking her, I will need to borrow one of your cars.” She smiled naughtily at her brother.

“No, you won’t. You have your own car,” he accurately pointed out.

“It’s broken.”

He raised an eyebrow at her as if to suggest her reason was pathetic and unbelievable, which clearly it was.

“I’ll take the McLaren,” she said without looking at him.

“No you won’t.”

“Fine, I’ll take the Ferrari.”

“No. You. Won’t.” He was very carefully pouring melted butter into the blender. “You can take the Jag.”

“I don’t like the Jag,” she said, like an ungrateful child. “Lexus or Trans Am. That’s my final offer?”