Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

Charles stiffens beside me, and several moments pass in silence. Just when I think I won’t get a reply, he answers, “I don’t hate kids, Daisy. I hate the idea of being a father because I know I’ll fail, and I hate failing.”

What? That’s…something I never imagined.

“How can you speak with such certainty about something you’ve never experienced before? Maybe you’ll be an amazing dad.” Hope swells within me as I picture Charles cradling a baby in his arms.

“Please.” He gently holds my face in his hands. “I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. I know it’s not for me.” His expression softens, and I don’t know what he sees on my face when he adds, “Do you know how much damage bad parenting can cause, even unintentionally? I don’t want someone to grow up believing they’d have been better off never being born.”

“Charles!” I gasp. “Why would you say something like that?”

“I was not a product of love, Daisy.” His grip tightens, almost painfully, but the emotional intensity swirling in his eyes silences me. “I was a pawn in my birth mother’s scheme to take over the Hawthorne business. I’m fortunate to have had Dad and, later, Kristy in my life. But an unloved childhood leaves its scars. I know I’m flawed and could never risk passing on these fears to someone, knowing a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to heal them.”

A pang of pain shoots through me.

How did I never see this side of him?

I should have.

I understand the feeling of being unwanted by your own parents. The same emotion that fueled my desire to have my own family had an opposite effect on Charles.

He doesn’t want kids, to spare them the pain we both endured.

How could I even hold it against him?

He has every right to feel the way he does.

I place a kiss over his dry lips. “Thank you for opening up to me, and I’m so sorry you had to go through all those emotions as a kid.”

Charles returns my kiss with one on my forehead and asks, “So are we good?”

I nod after a beat.

But are we really good?

Yes, we’ve resolved what happened this evening, but tonight also made something painfully clear.

Charles and I are like two corners of a river. We may flow in the same direction and experience the same waves of emotions, but we can never merge.

While I long for the warmth of a big family, he wants no part of it.

We are undeniably an imperfect match.

I wake up feeling as though a drummer is pounding away inside my head. Shifting to my side, I release a groan, my throat feeling as if it’s been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

Geez! How sick am I?

I place my palm on my forehead, only to have it replaced by Charles’ large, warm hand.

“I knew you’d get sick.”

“I’ll be fine soon,” I mutter before succumbing to a coughing fit.

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m going to ask Mrs. Kowalski to make you a warm drink.”

My eyes shut as Charles leaves the bed. God, I need something for this pounding headache.

My fingers are pressed against my forehead when a squeal rips out of my throat. My eyes shoot open as I’m lifted into the air.

“Charles! What on earth are you trying to do, kill me?”