Page 23 of Ted's Temerity
Chapter Nine – Ted
“You look like the cat who caught the canary, the mouse,andthe neighbor’s gerbil,” Charlie observes with a wide grin when we catch up for drinks on Tuesday evening. He’s back from his short honeymoon, back into the daily grind of his kink-friendly community center, but married life looks good on him. “Want to share why that might be?”
He’s not the first person to have noticed my good mood since the weekend. Louise has been shooting me knowing smirks since the staff meeting yesterday morning, and even my clients have said I’ve seemed ‘chipper’.
“Yeah, well, what can I say?” I ask, unable to stifle the goofy smile stretching my lips. “Things are good right now.”
“It’s Zephyr, right? Ash’s new friend? The one you were flirting with at the wedding?”
I can’t deny it, so I don’t. “Yeah.”
And if I go a little doe-eyed at just the mention of his name, I’ll blame the insane number of orgasms I’ve had since Saturday night. That boy is an aphrodisiac all on his own, and I think he’s melted my brain.
Charlie raises his glass towards me and I clink mine against it. He’s grinning even wider now. “It’s about time you found someone who makes you happy.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I bring my beer to my lips and take a healthy swig for emphasis.
“Ash will be over the moon, too,” he continues. “Having his Uncle Ted bring another friend around for play-dates will make his year.”
“Because marrying the man of his dreams hasn’t?”
Charlie laughs and shakes his head. “Nah. The wedding was for my family’s benefit and we both know it. We would have been happy enough just to elope to the courthouse.”
“And when you say your family-”
“I mean my mother, yeah.” Charlie huffs out a fond laugh, shaking his head. “I love her, but she’s as crazy as ever.” Setting down his beer, he sighs. “She’s nagging Maze for grand-kids now. Let me tell you, Maisy isnothappy about it.”
I shift uncomfortably on my bar-stool. Talk of children always unsettles me. “I can imagine.” I don’t offer any more than that. I can’t.
Charlie’s former career as a cop is still alive and well inside him because he sits up a little straighter, arching an eyebrow at me with unveiled curiosity. He can tell he’s struck a nerve of some kind, and I doubt he’s going to let it go. Kids as a concept isn’t something we’ve ever discussed. And why would we? We’re BDSM Daddies, which is somethingverydifferent.
“Did you ever want kids?” he asks me and my gut sinks.
We’ve known each other for a long time. I consider lying to him, because to air this dirty laundry now feels like a bad idea. Like opening Pandora’s box, I don’t know what’s going to happen if I do.
When we first met, he was so young and new to The Grove and getting his footing as a Daddy, and our friendship developed almost accidentally as I answered his questions and took him under my wing. Now he’s like a younger brother -a pseudo son, almost, if not for the fact that he’s not quite young enough- and I know that he’s probably not going to understand how I could have kept something quite so huge from him.
But I can’t lie. Not to Charlie.
Knowing that I’m about to change everything between us, I take a deep breath and stare into the bubbles inside my golden brew, quietly praying for the strength to get through this conversation.
“I…had a son.”
All the joy and warmth from the beginning of our conversation seems to evaporate as the silence hangs between us. Was it only a few minutes ago I was buzzing from the admission that I’ve got a new boyfriend? Now I’m dragging up memories that are better off buried.
“You…what?” Charlie’s blue eyes are wide and stunned. Then the past tense in my sentence must hit him because the expression crumples into sympathy. “What…Ted,shit. When…” He stops asking questions (the same questions everyone stumbles over when they inevitably find out about Aiden) and just stares.
“He would’ve been thirty this year.” I don’t know where the fuck that additional information decided to come from, but I immediately regret it, watching Charlie do the mental math.
“You…you were…”
“Seventeen. Seventeen and stupid.” I grab for my glass, taking another huge mouthful to try and just. stop. talking.
It’s been a long time. I’ve been to therapy. I’ve worked through the trauma and the pain and…okay, so the grief hits me every so often, but I’m not a mess. I’m not. And, as always, when people hear the story and then work out that it wasn’t long after his passing that I turned to BDSM as aDaddyno less, well…let’s just say the judgment doesn’t sit well with me.
“Fuck.” Charlie sucks down a third of his own glass before he turns baleful eyes on me. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “It’s not exactly the easiest thing to slip into conversation.”
