Charity Ball

As we drove home, the car was unusually quiet. Larry sat in the back, arms crossed, staring out the window. Sally, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought, her small hands fiddling with the hem of her school uniform. The tension in the air was palpable, but I wasn’t ready to break the silence just yet.

We turned a corner, the familiar streets rolling by, and I couldn’t shake the weight that had settled in my chest. The hospital visit, Rowan’s note, the principal’s stern expression—it all circled in my mind. But none of that mattered as much as what was really troubling me.

I glanced at Sally through the rearview mirror. "Sally," I said softly, breaking the silence, "do you want to tell me what happened today?"

She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before finally speaking. "It’s... it’s nothing, Mommy."

"Nothing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, it wasn’t nothing. You had an asthma attack, and Larry got into a fight. Something happened. You can tell me."

She didn’t respond immediately, and I waited, giving her the time she needed. Eventually, her voice came out in a small, shaky whisper. "They were making fun of me."

I felt a sharp pang in my chest, my hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Making fun of you? About what?"

She swallowed, glancing at Larry as if she wasn’t sure whether to continue. He gave her a little nod, silently urging her on.

"It’s because I don’t... I don’t have a father."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. My hands trembled slightly on the wheel, and I forced myself to take a deep breath.

"Who said that to you?" I asked, my voice more controlled than I felt.

"Some of the girls... they were laughing about it. Said I was... different. That their dads come to pick them up or take them to school, but I don’t have one. And they kept asking where my dad was."

The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me down. Sally’s voice was quiet, but her words were like a punch to the gut. I had always tried to protect them, to shield them from the complicated mess that was my past with Rowan. But now, here it was, creeping into their lives in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

I didn’t want them to ever, ever know about Rowan. Not like this. They deserved better than the reality of who their father was—a man who had barely acknowledged their existence, who had stayed in the shadows. And the idea that Sally felt ashamed because of that? It broke my heart.

I blinked back the sting of tears that threatened to well up. "Sally, listen to me," I said, keeping my voice steady. "You’re not different, okay? Not having a father around doesn’t make you less, not even a little bit."

"But they said—"

"I don’t care what they said," I interrupted gently. "You and Larry are loved. That’s what matters. I’m always going to be here for you, and you don’t need anyone else to make you feel whole."

She looked down at her hands, her eyes glistening. "But why don’t I have a father like the other kids? Why... why is he gone?"

That question hit me harder than I could’ve expected. How could I explain that her father, Rowan, chose to be absent? That his love for power and control meant he saw us as nothing more than obligations, mistakes, something to be pushed aside?

"He’s... it’s complicated, honey," I said quietly. "But it’s not because of you. Never think that. Sometimes grown-ups make decisions that don’t make sense, and it has nothing to do with how much you’re loved."

Larry, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke up. "If he doesn’t care about us, then we don’t need him. Right, Mom?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Right, Larry. We don’t need him."

But as I said those words, I couldn’t help but think about Rowan’s recent attempts to intrude on our lives. The note at the hospital, the way he was suddenly paying attention after years of silence. What was his game now? Was he going to try to be a part of their lives after all this time?

I hated that he had this hold over me, this way of creeping into my thoughts when I least expected it. I wanted to protect my kids from him, to keep him at arm’s length, but how long could I do that before the truth came out? Before they started asking questions I didn’t have the strength to answer?

The car rolled to a stop in front of our home, and I turned off the engine, taking a deep breath before facing the kids.

"We’ll talk more about this later, okay? For now, let’s go inside, get some dinner, and rest. It’s been a long day."

They both nodded, though I could tell Sally was still deep in thought. As we made our way inside, my mind was already racing ahead, trying to figure out my next move. One thing was certain—I needed to confront Rowan, once and for all. He wasn’t going to dictate the terms of our lives, not anymore.

And if that meant dealing with him face-to-face, so be it. I’d protect my children from his influence, no matter what it took.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the mirror, I hesitated. The kids were already asleep, and now, all that was left to do was call the nanny and get ready for this charity event Asher had all but pressured me into attending.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling until I found Emily's number and hit call. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Em. Are you free tonight?"

"Let me guess," she said with a chuckle, "Asher's dragging you to some fancy event again?"

I sighed. "You know me too well. I need you to watch the kids for a few hours. Sally had a rough day at school, so I’d prefer you stay over, just in case."

"Of course. I’ll be there in twenty minutes," she replied, her voice warm. Emily had been with me since the twins were born, more than just a nanny—she was a friend. And in moments like these, when I felt like my life was spiraling out of control, she was a lifeline.

“Thanks, Em. I owe you one.”

“You owe me about a thousand, but who’s counting?” she teased before hanging up.

I had barely ended the call when my doorbell rang. Confused, I walked to the door and opened it, only to find two impeccably dressed women standing on my porch, carrying garment bags.

"Miss Laurent?" one of them asked, her expression professional and polite.

I frowned. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

The woman smiled and glanced at her colleague. "Mr. Carmichael sent us. We're here to help you get ready for tonight."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, Asher would go this far. “He really thinks I can’t get ready on my own, doesn’t he?”

The woman just smiled and ushered me inside. “Shall we?”

It felt a little surreal, being pampered and styled like this. They worked quickly, styling my hair into soft waves and applying makeup that somehow made me look more glamorous than I ever could have on my own. And when they finally zipped me into the dress—an elegant emerald green number that hugged my body perfectly—I couldn’t help but stare at my reflection.

I looked… stunning. I barely recognized myself.

Asher certainly had his way of making a statement.

Emily arrived just as the stylists were finishing up. "Wow," she said, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of me. "Remi, you look like a goddess."

“Thanks, but I feel like Asher is just trying to make a spectacle,” I said, smoothing down the fabric of the dress. “It’s too much.”

“No such thing as too much when it comes to Asher Carmichael,” she laughed. "Go have fun. I'll handle the kids."

I gave her a grateful hug before grabbing my clutch and heading out the door. The car Asher had sent was waiting at the curb, and as soon as I slid into the backseat, I exhaled slowly. I wasn’t looking forward to being in a room full of elites, but I also couldn’t deny that a part of me felt... excited. I needed this distraction, and maybe, just maybe, I could actually enjoy myself tonight.

When I arrived at the charity event, it was already in full swing. The venue was breathtaking—an opulent ballroom with crystal chandeliers, glittering lights, and people dressed to the nines.

As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted Asher. He was hard to miss, standing tall in a tailored black tuxedo, his sandy blonde hair perfectly styled. He looked every bit the powerful, dangerous man he was rumored to be, yet his easy smile made him approachable.

He grinned when he saw me, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. "Well, look at you. I knew you'd clean up well."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "You act like I’m a lost cause."

He chuckled, extending his hand to me. "Not a lost cause, Remi. Just a diamond in the rough. Come on, you’re the star tonight."

As we walked further into the ballroom, I couldn’t help but notice the eyes following us. Whispers fluttered through the crowd, and I knew exactly why. Asher Carmichael didn’t bring just anyone to these kinds of events. And with all the rumors swirling about us, it was no surprise people were curious.

"Asher," I whispered, leaning in as we passed a group of women who were clearly gossiping. "You’re just adding fuel to the fire, you know that?"

He smirked, clearly unbothered. "Let them talk. They’ve got nothing better to do."

"Yeah, well, I do," I muttered, though there was no real bite in my words. I was used to this by now—Asher and his devil-may-care attitude. He thrived on attention, and I supposed tonight was no different.

As we made our way to the main floor, a waiter offered us champagne. Asher took a glass, and I politely declined. “I have kids,” I reminded him, earning a soft chuckle.

"Right. Always the responsible one," he said, raising his glass to me. "But tonight, at least try to have fun. You deserve it."

I smiled, appreciating his sentiment even if I knew I couldn’t fully let go. As much as I wanted to, my thoughts were already back at home with the twins.

“Why are we really here, Asher?” I asked after a moment, glancing around the room. “This charity ball isn’t just about helping others, is it?”

He shrugged. "It’s a little bit of both. Networking, reputation, rubbing shoulders with the right people. But yeah, we’re raising money for a good cause, too. Not everything’s a conspiracy, Remi."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Sure, if you say so. But you can’t deny you love the spotlight."

“Guilty,” he admitted with a grin. “But that’s not why I wanted you here. You need a break. You’ve been working non-stop, raising the kids, and dealing with... well, everything. Consider this my way of forcing you to take a night off.”

I chuckled, “Well it's working, maybe–”

“Asher.”

A voice called out. We both turned and I swear. My heart sank as I looked up and realized who it was.

Rowan's mother.

And standing right beside her, just as cold and disapproving, was his father.

They stared at me with thinly veiled contempt, and suddenly the air around us felt heavy.

"Remi Laurent," Rowan's mother said, her voice dripping with disdain. "What a surprise. Though I can't say it's a pleasant one."