4. Nakul

Nakul

The whole drive back to my motel, my mind is on Judd.

It doesn’t make any sense and I know it. Judd’s a man, a man four years older than me, with a life I can’t imagine fitting into. But I keep replaying the way his face flushed when he caught me looking at him or how gentle he was with Stevie.

The way he looked at her with so much love and patience—it was like he’d carved out this world just for her, keeping it safe and warm even if he was barely holding himself together. I can’t stop thinking about it, about him.

I’ve never thought about a man this way before and I’m not even sure what this way is. I just know that when Judd offered me dinner, when he invited me into his space, his home, I felt something shift. There was something pure, something real in that moment, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Something that wasn’t even present when I was with Ava.

It’s confusing, though. My whole life, I’ve had an image of what I wanted—family, stability, maybe even a kid or two. Judd has all of that, and maybe part of me is just drawn to what he has because I know I can’t. There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought I had everything figured out.

I was ready to start a family with Ava, planning a future with her that seemed solid and real. She filled my head with ideas, dreams that we were both moving toward the same thing. I thought she wanted it, too. And then, suddenly, I found out that it was all an illusion—she wasn’t who I thought she was and those dreams were hers only as long as they suited her.

Maybe that’s what I see in Judd.

He’s got the life I wanted—the family, the love, even if it’s just with his daughter—and it’s something he’s built himself. The more I think about it, the more I realize how easy it is to picture myself in his world. Judd has created something beautiful, something simple and strong, and I’m just… on the outside, looking in.

I wasn’t even raised with a big family. I was the only child of a couple who put all their hopes into me, always calling me their “golden boy.” Everyone expected big things from me in high school. Maybe that’s why I worked so hard to be one of the top athletes, to win all the awards and scholarships. But that all came crashing down the moment I got injured. I didn’t go to the big city; I stayed local, tried to find my way in construction. And since then, it’s been failure after failure.

I’ve made a living, but nothing like I’d planned.

Nothing like I’d hoped.

But maybe that’s why I feel this pull to help Judd, to be around him. Seeing him with Stevie, seeing how much he loves her—it makes me want to protect that, to make sure they never have to struggle.

I don’t know where that instinct comes from, but I know I’ve felt it before… with Ava, when I thought she was the one. I was wrong about her, but with Judd, the feeling is somehow different, deeper, like it’s tied to who I am, not just some relationship I thought I wanted.

Just then, my phone buzzes, Ava’s name flashing across the screen. Instantly, my stomach twists, my brief moment of clarity interrupted by the bitter reminder of why I came here in the first place.

I swipe to answer, not even bothering with a greeting.

“What the hell did you do?” she screams, her voice piercing through the receiver. “Where’s the money?”

I grit my teeth, keeping my voice calm. “I gave it to the person it belonged to. That money was meant for Judd and Stevie. You should’ve known better than to keep taking from them.”

“Are you serious? That money was mine ,” she hisses, practically spitting through the phone. “You had no right!”

I shake my head, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over me. “I had every right. Judd could sue you for that, Ava. You’d be lucky to get away with just the money gone. Stevie is his child and she deserves every dollar of what you kept from them. Maybe in some part I understand that you weren’t ready to be a mother but throwing her away like you did was a terrible thing to do.”

There’s a moment of silence, her heavy breaths telling me that she’s on the verge of exploding with anger. “We can work this out, Nakul,” she finally says, her voice softer. It takes on the smooth tone that she always used on me to get her way. “You and I… we’re good together. I know you can’t have kids, but we could just take Stevie. Make her ours.”

The words make my blood run cold. “What are you even talking about? You never cared about Stevie, Ava. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” The fact that she’s talking about stealing a fucking kid—even if it’s hers—makes me despise Ava just a little more.

She lets out a harsh laugh. “You don’t understand anything. You think you’re so noble, playing hero for a kid you barely know. But families are built on practicality, Nakul. Don’t be stupid.”

A surge of anger wells up inside me and for the first time, I don’t hold it back. “You know what, Ava? Don’t call me again. We’re done. I don’t want anything to do with you. And if you even think about coming after Stevie, I’ll make sure Judd knows everything you’ve pulled.”

I end the call, furious, the finality of it settling over me. The relief is immediate but the conversation leaves something else in its wake.

A need to protect Judd and Stevie, to make sure they’re safe from people like Ava who only see them as a convenience, a pawn in their twisted games.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I drive through the quiet streets back to my motel. The lights strung up for the holidays give everything a warm, inviting glow, but it only reminds me of what I don’t have, of what I almost let slip away because I was too blinded by Ava’s charm to see the truth.

And then there’s Judd, working so hard, doing everything he can to keep things together on his own. It’s obvious that he’s struggling, that he’s carrying more than anyone should and I can’t help but wonder why he keeps so much of it to himself. He has family. Does he reach out to them?

I pull into the motel parking lot and sit there for a minute, the engine still running as I stare at my phone. There’s a part of me that wants to text Judd, to suggest lunch or coffee, maybe something small to ease him into the idea of spending more time together. But as I start typing, my finger hesitates over the “Send” button.

What am I really doing here? Trying to push my way into his life just because I feel some strange connection to him? Because I feel like I need to fix things that aren’t mine to fix?

I delete the message, setting the phone down with a sigh. Maybe it’s better if I just let things be. I’ve done my part. I returned the money that was rightfully his, made sure Ava wouldn’t take any more from him. He’s strong; he’s built a life for himself, one that he’s clearly proud of, one he can stand by. I don’t need to impose myself on him, don’t need to force my way into his family just because I’m feeling… what? Lonely? Jealous? Insecure?

Maybe it’s better to let fate decide if we’ll meet again.