MARRIED TO MY EX FATHER IN LAW

FIVE YEARS TOO LATE

OCEAN'S POV

I watch the taxi drive away with Willow inside and feel absolutely nothing.

Five years ago, watching her leave destroyed me. I loved her. Really loved her. And she walked away without warning, without explanation, just disappeared from my life because she couldn't handle the reality of who I am.

Now she's back and all I feel is... tired.

I close the door and stand in the foyer for a moment, trying to process what just happened.

Willow showing up out of nowhere. Telling me she made a mistake. That she regrets leaving. That she wants another chance.

Five years too late.

I should have told her that. Should have been clear and firm and shut down any possibility of her coming back into my life.

But I didn't. I was polite. Distant. But not firm enough.

Why wasn't I firm enough?

Because some part of me, some stupid sentimental part, remembers what we had. Remembers loving her. Remembers thinking she was it for me.

And even though I don't feel that way anymore, even though I've moved on, I couldn't bring myself to be cruel to her.

I should have been cruel. Should have made it crystal clear that there's no chance. None.

Instead I gave her just enough hope to stay in London. To keep trying.

Fuck.

I run my hand through my hair and head toward the kitchen. I need coffee. Or maybe something stronger.

Lola is there with Hannah. They're sitting at the counter drinking tea and Hannah is talking about something but Lola isn't really listening. She's staring at her cup with that distant look she gets when she's upset.

She saw Willow. Heard our conversation probably.

Of course she did.

"Lola."

She looks up. Those big eyes that see too much. "Is your friend gone?"

"She's not my friend. She's my ex."

"Oh." Lola looks back down at her tea. "She's beautiful."

"So are you."

"She's sophisticated. Age-appropriate. Probably understands your world much better than I ever will."

The words are quiet. Matter-of-fact. Like she's just stating obvious truths.

And it kills me.

I walk over to her. Tilt her chin up so she has to look at me.

"I don't want her, Lola. I want... "

The words stick in my throat. Because what am I supposed to say? I want you? I pushed you away four days ago. Told you that what you felt wasn't real. Told you that we could never work.

How can I turn around now and tell her I was wrong?

"You want what?" she asks softly.

I stare at her. At those eyes. At that face that's become the center of my entire world without me even realizing it.

I want you. I want everything with you. I want to stop being a coward and just admit that I'm completely in love with you.

But I can't say it. Not yet. Not when there's still so much distance between us. Not when I've hurt her so badly already.

"Nothing," I finally say. "Never mind."

I see the hurt flash across her face before she hides it. She pulls away from my touch.

"I should go. I have some things to do."

She leaves. Hannah gives me a look that clearly says I'm an i***t, then follows Lola out.

I stand alone in the kitchen feeling like I just made another mistake.

My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number.

Thank you for seeing me today. I'm at the Savoy, room 412, if you want to talk more. - W

I stare at the message for a long moment. Then delete it.

I should have been firmer with her. Should have made it absolutely clear that whatever we had is over and there's no possibility of rekindling it.

But I didn't. And now she thinks she has a chance.

The truth is, Willow showing up doesn't change anything for me. I don't want her back. Don't feel anything when I look at her except maybe a distant fondness for what we used to have.

What I feel for Lola is completely different. Overwhelming. All-consuming. Terrifying.

And I'm still too much of a coward to do anything about it.

I pour myself coffee. Sit at the counter where Lola was just sitting. The seat is still warm from her body.

I can still smell her perfume. Something light and sweet. Nothing expensive or sophisticated like what Willow wears. Just simple and clean and perfectly her.

God, I miss her.

She's right down the hall but I miss her. Miss the way things were before I f****d everything up. Before I pushed her away.

Before I broke both our hearts trying to do the right thing.

My phone rings. Daniel.

"Yeah."

"We have a problem with the Rotterdam shipment. Customs is holding it up. Anonymous tip about suspicious cargo."

I close my eyes. This is the last thing I need right now.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

I hang up and down the rest of my coffee. Work. I can focus on work. Work makes sense. Work has clear problems and clear solutions.

Not like this mess with Lola and Willow and my inability to figure out what the hell I'm doing.

I grab my jacket and keys. Stop by Lola's room on the way out.

The door is closed. I can hear music playing softly inside.

I should knock. Should talk to her. Should explain about Willow.

But I don't. I just stand there like an i***t for a minute, then walk away.

Coward. That's what she called me. And she was right.

I'm a coward when it comes to her. When it comes to admitting what I feel. When it comes to being honest about what I want.

Because what I want is her. Just her. No one else.

Not Willow with her sophistication and understanding of my world.

Not anyone else who might be more appropriate or age-appropriate or whatever else I've convinced myself matters.

Just Lola.

Young, damaged, perfect Lola who makes me feel things I haven't felt in years. Who looks at me like I'm someone worth loving. Who kissed me like I was everything she ever wanted.

And I pushed her away.

I get in my car and drive toward the docks, my mind only half on the shipment problem.

The other half is stuck on Lola. On the hurt in her eyes. On the way she pulled away from my touch. On how she thinks Willow is what I want when she couldn't be more wrong.

I need to fix this. Need to figure out how to fix this.

But first I need to be brave enough to admit what I want.

And right now, I'm still too much of a coward to do that.