Chapter 4
The days that follow settle into a familiar rhythm for Charlie. Each morning, he drops Remy off at school, offering a quick “hello,” a quiet “hi,” or a small wave to Mr. Nelson before crouching down to give Remy a big hug. Remy clings to him for a few seconds longer than necessary, and Charlie always whispers something encouraging, like, “Be good, sweetheart,” or, “You’re going to have so much fun today.”
Then it’s back home for Charlie, diving into his work: writing, editing, juggling Zoom meetings, interviews, and deadlines. His days feel long, and by the time the clock hits two, he’s exhausted but ready to pick up his little boy.
And without fail, as soon as Remy climbs into the car, he starts talking about Mr. Nelson.
“Mr. Nelson is the coolest teacher ever, Daddy!” Remy exclaims one afternoon, his face lighting up. “He let me paint a dinosaur picture today! I made it green and orange because those are my favorite colors!”
Another day, Remy says, “Mr. Nelson helped me learn the ABCs! He sang a silly song, and we laughed so much!”
Or, “Mr. Nelson taught me to count today by saying, ‘In and out, in and out!’ It was so funny, Daddy!”
Every single day, it’s something new. Something sweet. Something that makes Remy beam with pride and happiness.
And every single day, Charlie listens with a growing sense of admiration—and maybe something more—for Nick Nelson. It’s impossible not to like him when Remy talks about him this way. Charlie can see it in his son’s excitement, hear it in the way Remy’s voice gets higher and brighter whenever he mentions Nick.
Nick isn’t just a teacher to Remy; he’s a hero, someone who makes school a safe, joyful place. And the more Charlie hears, the more he finds himself liking Nick, too—not just as a teacher, but as a person.
By the end of each day, Charlie finds himself smiling, his heart a little lighter. Because anyone who can make his son feel this happy, this confident, is someone truly special.
While Remy is at school, Charlie throws himself into his work—writing, editing, and juggling the chaos of freelance life. But beneath the deadlines and the pages he carefully polishes, he’s also trying to piece together the parts of himself and his life that have changed so drastically over the past four years.
Editing is a decent job—it’s steady, and he’s good at it—but it doesn’t pay as much as he’d hoped when he started out. Sure, he can cover the essentials. Remy has warm clothes, socks that always match, and more toys than he knows what to do with. Treats here and there aren’t out of the question, and Charlie doesn’t feel the crushing weight of financial strain.
But the truth is, the money doesn’t stretch far enough to give Charlie much room for himself. Not that he minds, really. His son comes first—always has, always will. But every now and then, when he’s sitting at his desk late at night, he feels the weariness creep in. It’s not just physical exhaustion, though that’s part of it. It’s something deeper, something that’s been with him since the divorce—a nagging sense that he’s forgotten how to care for himself.
His best friend, Elle, never lets him forget it. “Self-care, Charlie,” she says almost every time they talk. “You have to take time for yourself.”
Charlie always nods, smiles, and says, “Yeah, yeah, I know.” But the truth is, he doesn’t know. He’s never been good at self-care, at putting himself first. Not when he spent six years in a relationship with someone who manipulated him into thinking his needs didn’t matter, that his worth was tied to how much he could give and how little he asked for in return.
Now, even years later, it’s hard to shake the habit of putting himself last. But as he sits in his quiet home, tapping away at his keyboard, he knows Elle’s right. He needs to figure out how to reclaim those pieces of himself—the ones he lost, the ones he’s still scared to look for.
For now, though, he focuses on what he knows best: being a dad. And as long as Remy is happy, safe, and loved, Charlie tells himself that’s enough. Even if part of him quietly wonders if there might be more out there waiting for him.
It’s one of the many reasons Charlie is so insistent on not dating. If he lets someone into his life, it’s not just his time he’d have to split—it’s his time with Remy. And the thought of dividing his focus between his little boy and a partner feels impossible. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for that, or if he ever will be.
There’s also the lingering doubt: who would even be interested in a gay man with a son? Charlie isn’t ashamed of being gay, and he certainly isn’t ashamed of Remy—his son is his entire world. But he knows the reality. Being a single parent is a lot, and most people wouldn’t want to take that on.
The thought of putting himself out there, only to be dismissed once someone finds out he has a child, is enough to keep him from trying. And if they don’t walk away right away, well, there’s always the chance they’d meet Remy and decide it’s too much. Not because there’s anything wrong with his son—there isn’t. Remy is bright, full of energy, and has a heart so big it could make anyone melt. But he’s also a whirlwind, a four-year-old who never stops moving, always asking questions, always eager to explore.
And Charlie knows how overwhelming that can be. He’s lived it every day for the past four years, and while he wouldn’t trade it for the world, he knows it’s not for everyone.
So, for now, Charlie doesn’t see the point in dating. It’s easier to keep his focus where it belongs: on his son. On their life together. On building something stable and happy for both of them.
And if that means putting his own heart on hold, well, that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
Charlie doesn’t really miss much about being in a relationship. Not the dates, not the small talk, and not even the intimacy. For him, intimacy was never… much of anything. Sure, he’d had sex—multiple times, even—but it always felt one-sided. He was the giver, the one expected to cater, to do what was needed without ever being asked what he wanted. For a long time, he convinced himself that was fine. That was just how it worked.
Over time, though, it became less fine. It started to feel empty, like something was missing. But by then, he was already accustomed to it, too used to suppressing his own needs and desires to do anything about it. It’s taken years—a lot of years—for Charlie to even start rebuilding that part of himself. To try and have a decent relationship with his body and the idea of intimacy.
He owes a lot of that to his therapist, Geoff. Without him, Charlie isn’t sure where he’d be. Probably still that spiraling, self-destructive 16-year-old, who spent his days clutching blades and throwing food at the wall. But that’s not him anymore.
Now, he’s 27, a father to the most wonderful little boy in the world, and… happy. Or at least, as happy as he can be. Some days are better than others. Some days he feels like he’s moved past all of it, and others, the weight of the past still lingers.
But Charlie is learning. Learning to be kind to himself. Learning to trust himself. And learning that even if intimacy still feels like unfamiliar territory, it’s something he can approach on his own terms—if and when he’s ready.
And for the first time ever, Charlie finds himself wanting to learn and experience intimacy in a way he's never dared to before. He wants to kiss Nick Nelson. He wants to love him, to explore him, to completely and utterly ravish him.
Which is so incredibly wrong. Because Nick is Remy's teacher. And honestly, Charlie doesn't even know much about Nick Nelson at all. Sure, he knows the basics-Nick is a preschool teacher, and he's been working at the school for four years. He's good with kids, knows how to tie shoes, finger-paint, and make learning fun. Charlie has a vague idea that Nick might like red, or blue, or green, though he suspects those choices are more for the sake of keeping the classroom vibrant than a reflection of Nick's personal preferences.
Beyond that, Charlie has nothing. No real knowledge about who Nick is or what he likes, other than what he sees during drop-offs and pick-ups. And yet, despite all of that, Charlie wants him.
It's impossible not to, especially when Nick wears those perfectly tailored button-ups or those casual fitted t-shirts with jeans on Fridays that should be illegal. Every time Charlie catches sight of him, his brain goes places it shouldn't, imagining what it would be like to grab Nick by the collar, to tug him closer, to kiss him so hard it leaves them both breathless.
To undo the buttons on that shirt, one by one. To pop open the fly of those jeans and-
Stop.
Charlie shakes his head, feeling heat creep up his neck. He doesn't, of course. He doesn't act on any of it, because that would be unprofessional, inappropriate, and entirely out of line. But it doesn't stop the thoughts.
And it doesn't stop the ache in his chest-the longing to finally have intimacy on his own terms. For so long, that part of himself was taken away, first by his ex-husband, Ben, and the years of manipulation that left Charlie a shell of himself. Back then, intimacy was never about what he wanted. It was about Ben. Always Ben.
But now? Now, Charlie wants something for himself.
And for some reason, his brain has decided that Nick Nelson-the sweet, kind, and annoyingly gorgeous preschool teacher-is the person who might just be worth exploring it with. Which is a problem. A very big, very complicated, very inappropriate problem.
Charlie is snapped out of his spiraling thoughts by a small hand poking his cheek. “Daddy, you’re not paying attention to me,” Remy says, his voice filled with playful frustration.
Charlie laughs, shaking his head to clear it. “Sorry, sweetheart. What were you doing, bud?”
Remy huffs, holding up a handful of papers with messy scribbles and bright colors. “I was showing you the paintings I did for Nick!”
Charlie takes the papers, glancing over each one. They’re all different versions of dinosaur paintings, or at least, Charlie assumes they’re dinosaurs. The shapes are a little abstract, the colors are all over the place, and it’s honestly hard to tell what’s what. But Charlie knows his son—knows Remy’s love for dinosaurs—so it all makes perfect sense.
Scooping Remy up into his arms, Charlie presses a kiss to his son’s cheek. “These are so beautiful, buddy. You did such a good job!”
Remy beams, his grin wide and proud. “I know. Duh.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow, feigning mock offense. “Did you just say duh to your daddy? Did you just say duh?”
Before Remy can answer, Charlie launches into a full-on tickle attack, his fingers dancing over Remy’s sides. The room fills with the sweet sound of his son’s laughter, bright and uncontrollable, the kind of joy that makes everything else melt away.
This is what parenthood is about, Charlie thinks, as Remy’s giggles turn into snorts. Hearing your kids laugh, seeing them smile, and knowing they’re happy. It’s the kind of thing that can settle even the strongest of storms.
Eventually, Charlie lets up, setting Remy down on the floor as his son collapses into a fit of giggles. “Alright, alright,” Charlie says, pretending to catch his breath. “You win. But no more duhs to your daddy, got it?”
Remy grins mischievously but doesn’t reply, clearly not making any promises. Instead, he tilts his head and says, “Daddy, I think you should be friends with Mr. Nelson.”
Charlie blinks, surprised by the sudden shift. “Oh? And why’s that?”
“Because Nick is nice. You are nice. Daddy and Nick, friends forever!” Remy declares, his arms spreading wide as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Charlie feels his heart skip a beat, warmth flooding his chest. “Friends forever, huh?” he repeats softly, ruffling Remy’s hair.
“Yep!” Remy nods emphatically, his little face full of certainty. “Friends forever!”
Charlie smiles, though the words sit heavier than they should. He doesn’t know if he and Nick could ever be friends—or anything more, for that matter—but hearing it from his son makes the idea feel almost… possible.
The thing is, Charlie isn’t exactly great at making new friends. In fact, he’s kind of terrible at it.
He’s sheltered, and for good reason. Putting himself out there hasn’t exactly worked in his favor in the past. Besides, how do you even start to explain your life to someone new? “Oh yeah, I got divorced at 23” isn’t exactly a conversation starter. Add in the fact that he’s gay, has a son who isn’t biologically his, and carries a past full of pain and heartbreak, and suddenly, opening up feels like an overwhelming obstacle course.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to connect with people—he does. But how do you do that without feeling like you’re trauma-dumping your entire life story onto someone? Without feeling like you’re a walking bundle of baggage nobody wants to carry?
Charlie’s shy, a little awkward, and there’s a part of him that’s still stuck in his teenage years, where making friends felt impossible. He remembers those years too vividly—coming out, being outed, and the bullying that followed. It was a terrible time, one that left scars he’s still learning to navigate.
A part of him still assumes that if he gets close to someone, if they find out he’s gay or learn about his past, they’ll turn on him. That they’ll hate him, just like the kids in high school did. And that fear of rejection, of betrayal, keeps him at arm’s length from almost everyone.
He doesn’t want to risk it. He doesn’t want to deal with the drama or the pain of feeling like he’s not enough—or worse, that he’s too much.
So he keeps to himself. Focuses on being a dad, on work, on the small world he’s built for him and Remy. It’s safer that way. Easier.
Charlie chuckles as Remy looks up at him with his big, curious eyes. "I don't know, buds," Charlie says, brushing a hand through Remy’s messy curls. "Usually parents and teachers don't become friends."
Remy furrows his little brow, tilting his head in thought. "Oh," he says, his voice tinged with disappointment. "Well, that's sad. That's not, hmm… that's rude."
Charlie laughs softly. "Yeah, I guess it can feel a little rude," he admits. "Because teachers are very nice, but… I guess it’s just not professional in that way."
Remy blinks, his nose scrunching up. "Profession… professional?" he repeats slowly, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.
Charlie smiles and leans down to his level. "It means it’s not something people usually do. It’s not normal for that to happen."
Remy’s frown deepens, and he crosses his little arms. "Oh," he says firmly, shaking his head. "I don’t like professional."
Charlie laughs, scooping him up and holding him close. "Yeah, I don’t think you’re a fan of rules like that, huh?"
Remy shakes his head again, more dramatically this time. "Nope! Professional sounds boring," he declares, making Charlie laugh even harder.
“Well, Bugs,” Charlie says, pressing a kiss to Remy’s cheek, “sometimes boring is just how the world works.”
Remy doesn’t seem convinced. “Still think you should be friends with Mr. Nick,” he mutters, resting his head on Charlie’s shoulder. “He’s nice. You’re nice. You’d be nice together.”
Charlie smiles softly, his heart tugging at the simple, innocent logic of it all. “We’ll see, buddy,” he says, though he knows better than to expect anything of the sort.
Remy tugs on Charlie’s sleeve, looking up with big, serious eyes. “I need friends like Daddy,” he says firmly.
Charlie blinks, crouching down to his son’s level. “What do you mean, Buds? I thought you’ve been making friends at school.”
Remy shakes his head, his curls bouncing. “No, no, my only friend is Mr. Nick,” he says with a pout. “He’s my friend! He helps me on the swing, and he helps me paint dinos and stuff.”
Charlie tilts his head, concern creeping into his voice. “But what about the other kids, sweetheart? I thought you were playing with them.”
Remy sticks out his bottom lip, a small frown forming. “No one really likes me much,” he mumbles, kicking at the floor. “I think it’s ‘cause Mr. Nick likes me more than them.”
Charlie raises an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at his son’s logic. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”
Remy nods confidently, puffing out his little chest. “’Cause I’m his favorite! I know it!”
Charlie chuckles and pulls Remy into a hug. “Well, you are pretty awesome, Buds. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Nick thinks you’re his favorite.”
Remy beams, snuggling into Charlie’s chest. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m cool. Cooler than everybody else!”
Charlie laughs softly, kissing the top of Remy’s head. “You’re definitely the coolest. But remember, it’s nice to share Mr. Nick with the other kids too, okay?”
Remy pauses for a moment, then grins cheekily. “Okay. But only a little!”
Charlie laughed softly, his chest swelling with affection as he reached out to ruffle Remy’s messy curls. “Okay, Buds, why don’t you go get ready for bed, and then I can read you a bedtime story?”
Remy’s eyes lit up, his pout disappearing instantly. “Can it be a story with dinosaurs?”
Charlie grinned, already anticipating the request. “Yes, but only if you make sure to brush your teeth extra long.”
Remy let out the most dramatic sigh Charlie had ever heard, crossing his tiny arms over his chest. “Ah, okay, fiiine. Daddy rude.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended but failing to suppress his smile. “Hey, now, that’s not very nice. You shouldn’t be calling me rude. I’m just trying to help you out here.”
Remy tilted his head, his expression as serious as a four-year-old could muster. “Yeah, but Daddy does not want to be friends with Mr. Nick. That’s rude.”
Charlie blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Of all the things for Remy to focus on, this wasn’t what he expected. “Wait, so I’m the rude one because I’m not friends with Mr. Nick?”
Remy nodded firmly, his little hands on his hips in a perfect imitation of Charlie when he was being stern. “Yeah! Mr. Nick’s nice. You’re nice. That’s supposed to be friends!”
Charlie couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he crouched down to look his son in the eye. “You’ve got some strong opinions there, huh, Buds?”
Remy nodded again, his determination unwavering. “Uh-huh. Friends are ‘portant.”
Charlie sighed softly, pulling Remy into a quick hug. “You’re something else, you know that? You’ve got such a big heart, Buds. You just want everyone to get along, huh?”
Remy hugged him back tightly, burying his face in Charlie’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away to look up at him. “Yeah. You and Mr. Nick should be friends. He’s my friend, and you’re my daddy, so it makes sense.”
Charlie’s heart clenched a little, overwhelmed by how much love he had for this little person who always found a way to surprise him. Every single day, Remy reminded him of what mattered most—kindness, connection, and the simple joys of being loved.
He smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Remy’s face. “I’ll think about it, Buds. But right now, you’ve got some teeth to brush.”
Remy huffed dramatically, stomping toward the bathroom like the weight of the world was on his small shoulders. “Okay. But you’re still rude.”
Charlie shook his head, laughing quietly to himself as he watched his son disappear down the hall. No matter how exhausted he felt from the day’s work or how much weight he carried from his past, Remy was the light that kept him going. His son’s laughter, his curiosity, his innocent yet powerful ideas about the world—all of it reminded Charlie that he was doing something right.
“Love you, Buds,” Charlie called after him, smiling as he heard Remy’s small voice shout back, “Love you too, rude Daddy!”
Charlie chuckled, shaking his head again. It wasn’t always easy, but being Remy’s dad was the best thing he’d ever done, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.