Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,87

and for years I did. I…I saw him as a deity until one day I woke up and realized he was a man with flaws and I had become one of his groupies. I lived to serve him and his children.”

“We were your children too.”

“I was Chuck Chadwick’s wife. The Chadwick twins’ mother. What happened to Ursula Lindt?” she argues. “He was a mama's boy. I didn’t sign up to be his mother, yet I was there picking up after him, dealing with his absence, because playing golf was all that mattered to him.”

“I remember you fighting a lot about that, even throwing things at him.”

She fixes her hair, lifts her chin, and says, “You can’t judge me. You have no idea how hard it was to be with him. I met Jim, and…he showed me that life can be different.”

“I lived with Dad. If you believed that being with him was unbearable, why did you leave us with him?”

“There’s no gray area for him. Either I stayed with him or I wouldn’t be allowed to be around him again.”

“Why didn’t you take us with you?” I ask, frustrated.

“You’re going to judge me,” she states.

“Probably,” I agree with her. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but so far I’m not hearing anything that sounds remotely close to a grain of remorse.”

“What were you expecting?” she asks.

“My…I have this friend who is a lawyer, and she said, ‘What if she lost custody of you during the divorce,’” I explain. “It gave me some hope. It pissed me off that you wouldn’t fight for us, but knowing Dad…”

I release a humorless laughter. “He’s harsh and hard-headed. It’s fucking hard to get him to understand that the world isn’t his playground. But with patience, you can make him see things from a different perspective. You just didn’t care about us, did you?”

“I was sinking in that house,” she defends herself.

“Was he abusing you?”

“No, but…I wanted to start over with Jim,” she explains and then adds. “I regret what happened. I could’ve handled it differently, but look at you. You grew up to be a successful businessman. If I had dragged you with me, you would be a nobody.”

I raise an eyebrow, lay my palms on the table, and lean closer to her. “Do you really think I am where I am because of my father’s money? That I would take my grandfather’s legacy over having a happy family?”

I lift my palms as if giving up. What’s the point of having this conversation?

She stares at my wrist and reads out loud, “Life is a choice.”

I read it too, twice. This reminds me of not only Nyx, but last week when we went to get these tattoos. Ford and I have been making choices throughout our entire life guided by my grandparents.

“That’s exactly it. You have to choose because you can’t have everything,” she insists. “You either have money or you have a happy family. You can’t have it both ways. Either I had enough money to travel around the world or…I chose happiness. I’m sorry I had to shut you down to be able to reach it.”

What she says reminds me of the Brassards. They don’t have much money, but they sacrifice everything for their children. They still do it, even when they’re all grown and independent.

“Sometimes you can have success and happiness,” I contend. “Sometimes life is about the moments you miss with the people who matter because you were too busy piling a fortune that won’t feed your soul. You’re right, I have no idea what you felt back then, but maybe Ford and I would’ve been happier with just a pile of clothes that fit in a backpack and someone who taught us the real value of love.”

Which maybe we learned from our grandparents. We just never thought about it before. Maybe my father sending us to do community service felt like cruelty, but we learned a lot from every person we’ve met since then.

“I don’t understand,” she claims.

“My parents were too selfish to think beyond their needs,” I answer. “I’ve lived wondering what is wrong with me. I should focus on my grandparents who gave us the foundation. I should focus on what I have and not what I think I need. I hope you’re happy, and if you’re not, I hope you find happiness.”

My nights are between a nightmare, bliss, and a fantasy. I can’t sleep because of Nyx. It’s not the morning sickness as much as