Chapter 9
Nick has now known Charlie for a full month. One whole month. And in that time, his thoughts have been getting… a little complicated.
For the last two weeks, they’ve fallen into a routine—early morning coffee shop visits where Remy gets his sprinkle donuts, Nick gets his coffee (black, no sugar, just how he likes it), and Charlie gets something sweeter, usually with a shot of espresso. It’s simple. Nice. And it’s quickly become Nick’s favorite part of the day.
He’s definitely not thinking about the fact that, for the last five days, Charlie has been the one buying his coffee. Absolutely not. He’s not replaying the way Charlie handed him the steaming cup, smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world to do.
He’s also not dwelling on the fact that Charlie happens to be single. Or gay. Or that Nick has known this for days now and still hasn’t made a move.
What Nick is thinking about—far too much, if he’s being honest with himself—is how badly he wants to ask Charlie out. To move beyond the coffee shop routine, the casual chats at drop-off and pick-up, and actually take him on a date. A real date. Somewhere nice. Somewhere where Charlie might wear one of those oversized sweaters that make him look so cozy, and Nick could maybe—just maybe—reach across the table and hold his hand.
It’s simple. It’s nice. It’s the highlight of Nick.
And yet, every single time Nick considers just saying the words, “Hey, would you want to go out with me sometime?” they get stuck in his throat.
Because Charlie is… well, Charlie. He’s kind, thoughtful, and completely unaware of how much Nick looks forward to seeing him every morning. And that makes Nick hesitate. What if he ruins this? What if he says the wrong thing? What if Charlie says no?
But then there are moments—tiny, fleeting moments—when Nick is convinced that Charlie might feel the same way. Like when Charlie hands him his coffee with that small, shy smile that makes Nick’s heart stutter. Or the way Charlie’s cheeks turn pink whenever Nick calls him cute. Or the fact that Charlie lingers just a little longer at pick-up, like he doesn’t want to leave.
It’s those moments that give Nick hope.
So, he’s waiting. Waiting for the right time. For a sign that it’s okay to take the leap. Because Nick wants to do this right. He doesn’t just want to blurt it out in a rush of nerves. He wants to be calm, confident, and sure—sure that Charlie will say yes.
But the more time passes, the more Nick realizes that the “perfect moment” might never come. And if he keeps waiting for it, he might miss his chance entirely.
So, maybe tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll ask. After coffee. Or during coffee. Or maybe after Remy runs off to play.
Yeah. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.
Nick is standing outside on the playground, watching his students scatter across the recess area. Some are running, some are climbing, and others are huddled together building castles in the sandbox. It’s a crisp day, and Nick pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself as he keeps an eye on the kids, his thoughts drifting once again to Charlie.
He’s shaken from his thoughts when a familiar voice cuts through the din of children laughing and shouting.
“Nelson!”
Nick turns to see Harry Green—Mr. Green—approaching him with a tight expression, his arms crossed as he strides across the playground.
Harry isn’t just a coworker; he’s someone Nick used to know well. They went to Harvard together, played football together, even shared a few wild college nights. But after Otis passed, their friendship unraveled. They’d fallen out of touch, and now the only connection between them was this job.
“Green,” Nick greets, his tone cautious as Harry stops in front of him.
Harry doesn’t waste a second. “One of your students just shoved my kid. You need to teach them to share, Nelson. Damn near scraped his knee.”
Nick blinks, his mind racing. “Wait, what? Which kid? Are you sure it wasn’t an accident? They’re preschoolers, Harry. Sometimes they—”
Harry cuts him off with a shake of his head. “It wasn’t an accident. I saw it happen. My kid was playing with one of those scooters, and one of your kids ran up, pushed him off, and took it. He’s upset, and I don’t blame him. You need to handle it.”
Nick feels a pang of irritation but keeps his voice steady. “Of course, I’ll address it. I’m sorry your student was upset. I’ll find out who it was and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Harry doesn’t seem satisfied, his frown deepening. “You better. You need to keep a better eye on your students, Nelson. Teach them some basic respect and sharing. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to say something.”
Nick bites back the urge to snap back, forcing himself to nod instead. “I’ll take care of it, Harry.”
As Harry lingers for a moment, Nick asks cautiously, “Which student was it?”
Harry glances over at the playground, scanning the group of children before pointing decisively. “That one. The kid with the brown hair and the dinosaur jacket.”
Nick’s stomach sinks as his eyes follow the direction of Harry’s finger, landing squarely on Remy.
Great, Nick thinks, exhaling slowly. Of course, it had to be Remy.
For a split second, he debates how to approach this, knowing it’ll complicate things even further. But he forces a neutral expression and nods. “Thanks, Harry. I’ll handle it.”
Harry gives him a final look before walking off, leaving Nick standing there, staring at Remy, who is now happily scooting around as if nothing happened.
Nick sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why does it always have to be the ones you know best?”
With that, he heads toward Remy, preparing himself for what’s likely to be a very interesting conversation. The boy is blissfully unaware, scooting around in happy little loops. Nick waits until Remy passes by, then steps forward and firmly grabs the scooter handles, stopping it in its tracks.
Remy looks up, confused, his hair bouncing as his head tilts. “Huh? Oh! Hi!"
Nick bends down, leveling himself with the boy, and turns on his calm-but-serious teacher voice. “Remy,” he says, his tone steady, “how’d you get this scooter?”
Remy blinks, a little caught off guard. “I got it,” he says simply, as if that explains everything.
Nick raises an eyebrow. “And how’s that?”
Remy shrugs, his face scrunching up as he thinks. Then, with complete sincerity, he says, “A boy was being mean about my daddy. And meanies don’t get scooters, so I got it instead.”
Nick exhales slowly, keeping his expression calm even as his brain scrambles to process that answer. “Remy,” he says, “no, you didn’t just get it. How’d you get it? Tell me the truth.”
Remy hesitates, his hands gripping the scooter handles tighter, and Nick gently pries one hand off to make sure the boy is looking at him.
“We don’t push, Remy,” Nick says firmly but gently. “You know that. No matter what someone says, pushing isn’t the answer.”
Remy’s bottom lip wobbles, and his voice grows louder, his frustration spilling out. “But he said my daddy’s weird ’cause I don’t have a mommy! He said you’re supposed to have a mommy if you have a daddy! And I said my daddy doesn’t need a mommy! My daddy could date so I can have another daddy! But he said that’s wrong! And that made me mad, so… I just took the scooter.”
Nick exhales softly, his heart twisting at the boy’s words. He crouches lower, placing a steadying hand on Remy’s shoulder. “Remy,” he says gently, “I’m really sorry that boy said those things to you. That’s not okay, and I’ll talk to him about it. But you still can’t push people, even if they’re saying things that upset you.”
Remy sniffles, his big eyes filling with tears. “But he said bad stuff about my daddy! My daddy’s not weird! He’s the best daddy ever!”
Nick nods, his voice firm but kind. “You’re absolutely right, Remy. Your daddy is great. But that doesn’t mean we hurt people, okay? Next time, if someone says something mean, you come to me, or another teacher. We’ll help you. Pushing isn’t the answer. Do you understand?”
Remy hesitates, wiping his nose with his sleeve, before nodding slowly. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Mr. Nick. I won’t push again.”
Nick smiles softly, letting go of the scooter handles. “Good. Now, let’s go find the boy you pushed and apologize. You can do that, right?”
Remy nods again, his sniffles quieting. “Okay. I’ll say sorry.”
Nick pats his shoulder. “That’s a good choice, buddy. Let’s go.”
Nick watches Remy carefully as they walk across the playground, his small figure looking smaller with each step. He feels a pang of guilt in his chest. Remy is so young, just a little boy navigating big emotions and figuring out a world that doesn’t always make sense. It’s clear he’s still learning, still processing the differences between his home life and those of other kids. And it’s not fair that he’s already facing questions and comments that make him feel like something’s wrong.
Nick sighs quietly, his heart aching for the boy. But he also knows he has to address what happened. Teaching moments like these are part of his job, and while he understands why Remy was upset, pushing another student isn’t something he can overlook.
He spots Dylan—the boy Remy pushed—near the swings, still looking a little upset as he talks to another child. Nick walks over with Remy by his side, gently steering the boy closer.
“Dylan,” Nick calls softly, crouching down to his level. “Remy has something he’d like to say to you.”
Remy hesitates, his fingers twisting nervously around the hem of his dinosaur jacket. Nick gives him an encouraging nod, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Remy mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dylan looks at him, a little wary but curious. “Okay,” he says, and after a moment, he adds, “Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” Remy says quickly, sniffling as he wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.
Nick gives Dylan a small smile, thanking him for listening, before guiding Remy away. Once they’re a few steps away, Nick bends down again, meeting Remy’s watery gaze.
“You did the right thing, apologizing,” Nick says gently. “But, Remy, I’m going to have to call your dad and let him know what happened.”
Remy’s eyes widen, and his face crumples as fresh tears spill over. “No! Don’t tell Daddy! Daddy will be mad! He’s never mad at me!”
Nick feels his heart twist at the boy’s panic. “Hey, hey, buddy,” he says softly, brushing a tear off Remy’s cheek. “Your dad isn’t going to be mad at you. He’ll want to know what happened so he can help you, okay? He loves you, Remy. And I’ll talk to him too, so he understands.”
But Remy shakes his head furiously, his little hands gripping Nick’s shirt. “No, no, please don’t call him! I don’t want Daddy to be mad at me!”
Nick takes a deep breath, holding the boy’s gaze. “Remy, listen to me. Your dad isn’t going to be mad. I promise. He might be a little upset about what happened, but that’s only because he cares about you and wants to help you learn. He’s not going to stop loving you, okay? Ever.”
Remy sniffles again, his grip loosening just a little. “You promise?”
" I promise. Now, how about we go inside and give your dad a call together, yeah? That way, I can explain everything, and you don’t have to feel scared.”
Remy looks up at him, still hesitant but no longer gripping his shirt so tightly. “You’ll talk to Daddy too? You won’t just let me do it?”
Nick smiles softly, nodding. “Of course, I’ll talk to him. We’re a team, buddy. You’re not doing this alone.”
Remy sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, and nods slowly. “Okay… but you gotta tell him I’m still his best kid, okay?”
Nick chuckles lightly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I think he already knows that. But I’ll make sure to remind him, okay?”
Remy gives him a small, hesitant smile, and Nick feels a bit of the weight in his chest lift. “Come on,” Nick says, standing up and offering his hand. “Let’s go inside."
Nick walks inside with Remy, holding the boy’s hand as they make their way back to the classroom. The hallways are quiet, the sounds of recess fading behind them, and Remy sniffles every so often, wiping his eyes with his free hand. Nick keeps a steady pace, offering small reassurances along the way.
When they reach the classroom, Nick guides Remy inside and pulls out a small chair, placing it right next to his own at the teacher’s desk. He pats the seat gently, motioning for Remy to sit down.
“Okay, bud,” Nick says softly, crouching down so he’s eye-level with Remy. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to call your dad and explain what happened, and then you can talk to him, okay?”
Remy looks up at him, his eyes wide and nervous. “Is he gonna be mad?”
Nick shakes his head, his voice calm and steady. “No, he’s not going to be mad. He’s going to want to talk to you and make sure you’re okay. But because you got in trouble today, he’s going to have to pick you up early, okay? That’s part of the rules.”
Remy frowns, his bottom lip wobbling slightly. “I don’t wanna go home early. I like staying at school.”
Nick gives him a reassuring smile, ruffling his curls. “I know, buddy. But it’s just for today. And tomorrow, we’ll have a fresh start, yeah?”
Remy nods reluctantly, his hands twisting the hem of his dinosaur jacket.
Nick straightens up, walking over to the boy’s cubby and pulling out his backpack. “Why don’t you start packing your things while I talk to your dad? That way, you’re all ready to go when he gets here.”
Remy hesitates, then nods again, taking the backpack from Nick and shuffling toward his cubby to gather his things.
Nick watches him for a moment before sitting down at his desk and picking up his phone. He takes a deep breath, dialing Charlie’s number and preparing himself for the conversation ahead. As the line rings, he glances at Remy, who’s carefully stuffing his jacket and art supplies into his bag, his movements slow and nervous.
Charlie answers the phone, his voice slightly breathless. “Hello?”
“Hi, Charlie,” Nick starts, trying to sound steady and professional despite the knot forming in his stomach. “It’s Mr. Nelson.”
“Nick? Hi! Sorry, I didn’t recognize the number,” Charlie responds quickly, the surprise in his voice clear.
“That’s alright,” Nick says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the school phone, so I’m not surprised no caller ID showed up.”
For a moment, Nick hopes Charlie won’t jump to conclusions too quickly, but then the tone shifts, worry flooding his voice.
“Oh? This is the school phone? Wait, why are you—? Is Remy okay? Please tell me he’s okay! Shit! Fuck, what happened? Is he hurt? I—oh God—”
“Charlie—Mr. Spring—” Nick interrupts quickly, wincing at how clumsy he sounds. “Shit, sorry, uh, this is weird trying to be professional about this. And—oh shoot—I just cursed in front of your kid. I’m sorry—um, but Remy is fine. He isn’t hurt. He’s okay.”
Nick winces at his own rambling, feeling the awkwardness seep in. He doesn’t want to sound cold or distant, but he’s walking a tightrope here—balancing professionalism with the genuine care he feels for both Charlie and Remy.
There’s a pause before Charlie lets out a small, relieved sigh. “Oh. Okay. You had me freaking out there for a second.”
Nick breathes a little easier, though the weight of the conversation still hangs heavily. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… well, he had an incident at recess. He pushed another student—Dylan—and by our rulebook, he needs to be picked up early. It’s part of our protocol.”
Nick wonders if he sounds too stiff. He hates having to call parents for things like this. It always feels like he’s delivering bad news, even if it’s just a minor incident. But this time, it’s different. It’s Charlie.
Charlie’s voice sharpens slightly. “He pushed someone? What happened? Why?”
Nick takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. He knows how much Charlie cares about Remy, and he doesn’t want to make it sound worse than it is. “It seems Dylan said something that upset Remy—something about your family situation. Remy got frustrated and made a bad choice by pushing him. He’s feeling really sorry about it now, but we want to make sure emotions have time to settle. If Dylan sees Remy again today, it might stir things up again.”
Nick’s chest tightens as he speaks, remembering the hurt in Remy’s eyes when he explained what happened. He wishes he could shield the boy from comments like that, but he knows it’s impossible. Kids can be blunt, and sometimes cruel, even without realizing it.
Charlie groans softly on the other end of the line. “Oh God! What! My Remy? He's never... I'm so sorry. Poor Dylan, is he okay? Okay, um, yeah, I’ll come get him. Is he… is he okay? Like, is he scared or upset?”
Nick glances over at Remy, who is still fumbling with his backpack, his little shoulders hunched. “He’s definitely nervous. He’s worried you might be mad at him.”
Nick feels a pang of protectiveness for Remy, a wave of sympathy for the little boy who’s clearly carrying so much. And then there’s Charlie, whose concern is so genuine it makes Nick’s chest ache in an entirely different way.
Charlie’s voice softens instantly. “Mad? No. no! I mean I'm upset he did that, because that's so unlike him! He's been, he's been acting a bit off ever since I called you with that whole dying fit, I don't know what's going on with him, poor kid. I'm sorry. Okay, I’ll leave now and be there as fast as I can.
“I, um… before I get there, can I talk to him? I feel like maybe I should hear it from him too, you know?”
Nick smiles softly, nodding even though Charlie can’t see him. “Of course. Hold on a second.” He lowers the phone and looks over at Remy, who is still fiddling with his backpack. “Hey, bud,” he says gently. “Your dad wants to talk to you. Come here.”
Remy looks up, his face already scrunching as his emotions threaten to spill over. He shuffles toward Nick, dragging his backpack behind him. When Nick holds out the phone, Remy hesitates before taking it with both hands. The moment he hears Charlie’s voice on the other end, the dam breaks.
“Daddy!” Remy cries, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m so sorry!”
Nick watches as Remy’s little shoulders shake, his tiny hands clutching the phone tightly.
Charlie’s voice comes through the speaker, calm and soothing. “Hey, hey, buddy, it’s okay. I’m here. Take a deep breath for me, okay?”
Remy sniffles but doesn’t stop rambling. “They were being a meanie, Daddy! They said you’re weird ’cause you’re not married, and I got so mad, and I was mean back! I pushed them, Daddy! I was a meanie too, and I’m so, so sorry!”
Nick’s heart aches as he crouches down beside the boy, placing a steadying hand on his back.
Charlie’s voice is soft but firm. “Oh, Remy, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you, okay? I promise. You made a mistake, and we’ll talk about it when I get there, but I’m so proud of you for saying sorry. That’s a brave thing to do.”
Remy sniffles again, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. “You’re not mad?”
“No, buddy,” Charlie says gently. “I’m not mad. I just want to give you a big hug when I get there, okay? Can you hang tight with Mr. Nick for a little longer?”
Remy nods quickly, his tears slowing a bit. “Okay… okay, Daddy. I’ll wait.”
Nick takes the phone back as Remy steps away to finish packing his things, still sniffling quietly.
“Thank you,” Charlie says through the line, his voice heavy with relief. “I know this probably isn’t what you signed up for when you became a teacher.”
Nick chuckles lightly, his eyes still on Remy. “It’s all part of the job, Charlie. And honestly? You’re doing a good job too. He’s a great kid, and I can tell how much he loves you.”
There’s a beat of silence before Charlie replies softly, “Thanks, Nick. That means a lot. I’m on my way now. Should be there soon.”
“We’ll be here,” Nick says, his voice warm. As he hangs up, he glances back at Remy, who is now sitting on the edge of a chair, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Nick stares at Remy, trying to think of something to cheer him up. He pulls a goofy face, crossing his eyes and puffing out his cheeks, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect. Remy stays slumped in his chair, his small hands gripping his dinosaur plush tightly.
Nick feels his heart sink a little. This kid’s really having a tough day, he thinks. Realizing he might need more time to help, he pulls out his phone and calls Imogen.
“Hey, Immy,” he says quickly when she answers. “I need a favor. Can you extend recess by ten minutes? I’ve got a situation with one of the kids, and I need a little more time.”
Imogen doesn’t hesitate. “Of course, Nick. I’ll keep an eye on your class until you’re done.”
Nick exhales in relief. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. I owe you one.”
He hangs up and turns his attention back to Remy, trying another silly face—this time sticking out his tongue and wiggling his eyebrows. But instead of laughing, Remy bursts into tears, burying his face into his hands.
Nick immediately crouches down, his teacher instincts kicking in. “Hey, hey, Remy,” he says softly, placing a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? It’s okay, buddy. Talk to me.”
But Remy shakes his head furiously, his voice breaking as he cries, “No!! No! It’s not okay!”
Nick’s heart twists as Remy continues, his words coming out in gasping sobs.
“You take Daddy away from me! And if I don’t have Daddy, I have no one! He doesn’t do playtime anymore, ’cause he’s too busy smiling at his phone! And no! You take Daddy away from me!”
He hadn’t realized how deeply his presence could be affecting the little boy. In all the mornings at the coffee shop, the drop-offs and pick-ups, and even the small moments of banter with Charlie, he had only seen Remy as the sweet, kind, and curious child who brought joy to everyone around him. But now, hearing Remy’s tearful confession, Nick feels a wave of guilt wash over him.
Am I hurting him? he wonders. Have I been so caught up in getting to know Charlie, in trying to figure out my own feelings, that I didn’t stop to think about how this might look to Remy?
Nick runs a hand through his hair, feeling suddenly very selfish. He’s been thinking about Charlie—his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes light up when he talks about Remy—but he hasn’t thought about how a child, so young and so deeply attached to his dad, might see it.
To Remy, Nick realizes, he might look like a stranger coming in and taking something away. And why wouldn’t he? Remy’s world is small and precious, centered around his dad. And now here Nick is, a teacher and a friend, but to Remy, maybe something more threatening.
He’s just a kid, Nick thinks, his stomach twisting. He doesn’t know any better. He sees things in black and white—people either stay or leave, and I must look like I’m trying to take his dad away.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Nick says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this.”
Remy looks up at him, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “You’re not taking Daddy?”
“No,” Nick says firmly, shaking his head. “I would never take your daddy away from you. He’s yours, Remy. And you’re his. I promise.”
Remy sniffles, wiping at his nose with his sleeve. “But… but you like him. You make him laugh. What if he likes you more?”
Nick feels the weight of those words settle in his chest. “Remy,” he says gently, crouching closer, “your dad loves you more than anything in the whole world. No one can change that—not me, not anyone. And if I ever made you feel like you were losing him, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
He pauses, the guilt gnawing at him. Maybe I need to slow down, he thinks. Maybe I’ve been so focused on Charlie that I’ve forgotten the bigger picture. This isn’t just about me and Charlie. It’s about Remy too.
Nick takes a deep breath and offers Remy a small smile. “You and your dad are a team, okay? And I’m just here to be your teacher and your friend. Nothing is going to change that.”
Remy stares at him for a moment before nodding slowly, his little hand reaching out to clutch Nick’s sleeve. “Promise?”
“I promise,” Nick says, his voice steady.
As Remy finally starts to relax, Nick sits back, his mind racing. He knows he needs to have a conversation with Charlie—about boundaries, about how Remy is feeling, and about how to navigate this delicate situation. Because as much as Nick wants to pursue something with Charlie, he knows now that it can’t come at the expense of Remy’s happiness and sense of security.
So much for asking Charlie out, Nick thinks, a hollow pang in his heart.
It had felt like such a good idea before. Charlie was charming, kind, and warm—a rare combination that Nick had been drawn to from the start. And Charlie’s smiles, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about Remy, had made Nick wonder if, just maybe, there was something mutual.
But now? Now it feels like a pipe dream, a selfish one at that.
This is why people say not to get involved with a student’s parent, Nick realizes bitterly. Because it can get messy, and it has gotten messy.
No, he tells himself firmly. I’m not going to ask Charlie out tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. Maybe never.
The thought stings more than it should. He had allowed himself to hope—just a little—that he and Charlie could be something more. That maybe, after all the years of avoiding relationships and building walls around his heart, this could be different. But now he sees how naïve that was.
Charlie is a single parent. He’s trying his best to raise a wonderful kid. He doesn’t need me complicating things.
Nick glances at Remy, who is now drawing little doodles on a scrap piece of paper. The boy looks calmer, but Nick can still see the remnants of his tears. I’m here for him, Nick thinks. I’m here to make sure he feels safe and supported at school. That’s my job. That’s what I should be focusing on.
He leans back in his chair, his resolve hardening. Friendship is enough. Being a good teacher to Remy and a kind friend to Charlie is enough. Anything more would be too much—too risky, too complicated.
He has to let this go. For Remy. For Charlie. For himself.