She cries in my arms, sniffles her nose on my shirt and I let her. I let her get it all out as I try to console her with tight hugs and back rubs, caressing wet cheeks, stroking her long hair. My baby girl is heart broken like never before and she only wants me.

"Papi, I've messed everything up!," she cries, nuzzling her head against my chest as we cuddle in my bed. "He'll never talk to me again! You should have— you should have seen the way he looked at me! Like I was the most cruel person in the world..."

Funny, the kid was right under my nose the whole time. I should have listened to my intuition. My guy that told me that boy was smitten with my little kitten. I'm not saying I wasn't still angry when I found out; I felt fooled— jipped, even. But I'd much rather prefer him. Just wait until Richie finds out. That'll be another round of drama, of course.

A knock sounds at the door, followed by a muffled call. "Freddie? Everyone's here... are you two coming down yet?," I can tell Cherie is worried and probably a little hurt that she's not the one Charlie ran to for comfort. But right now that doesn't matter.

"Just a minute!," I call back to her. With a sigh, I try to quickly rack my brain for some kind of words to heal my daughter's heart, but this is all too much. Much more than I ever wanted her to have to go through.

"We're going to sort this out, Princess. Everything will be fine with out or without him-"

"I don't wanna be without him, Papi, I — I love him!," She lifts her head to speak to me only to tackle back into my chest as her whimpers quicken and her tears entirely soak through my shirt.

I lift her off of me as I turn my legs off of the bed. She follows my lead like a shadow. "If he won't be here for you, I will," I declare, pinching her chin between my fingers. She's still my little girl, nothing will ever change that.

"Oh, Papi," Her voice is hoarse from sobbing. She tightens her hold around my neck; I cradle her in my lap once she swings her legs over comfortably. "It's not the same. I know you'll always be here for me," she hiccups, sniffing her nose. "The only man a girl can ever really rely on is her father..."

"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to...," I tell her, completely on her side whichever way she chooses to go.

"I made the mess. I have to be the one to straighten this out," she nods against my shoulder as the dial tone starts up.

I've had a bit of a tumultuous relationship with Wigg, but he's agreed to publish Charlie's side of the story as far as her pregnancy is concerned. Frankly, I'm still counting my lucky stars at the fact that Sid is not ever going to be affiliated with my family. But I can't let that side of me show, not now. My daughters feelings are far more important than my own.

—————————————-

Charlie:

"Charlie, you've barely touched your dinner, sweetheart," Mum wraps her arm around me, rubbing my shoulder, giving me those big sympathetic brown eyes.

I swear sometimes just a single loving look from Mum can feel like a well-needed embrace. And right now, if someone were to hug me, I'd fall apart. I can't be touched while sensitive, I'm too far strung along by my guilt; far too emotional.

"You have to get some food in that belly for my great-grand baby. Just some nibbles, dear," Mama smiles sweetly at me from the other side of the dinner table.

I'm really surprised at how everyone has taken the news. My grandmother was over the moon with joy and she's been extra sweet to me all day. Mum says that's just grandmas way; she's a naturally nurturing matriarch.

I move the food around my plate as several pairs of eyes watch me. "Don't you wish we still had Oscar right about now," Lily whispers in my ear in the seat to my right. I chuckle fondly at the memories of our childhood cat. You'd think he was a dog with the way he'd happily vacuum any scraps of food to him as he sat waiting at our feet through our family meals.

I take a couple of bites of potatoes in my mouth. It's the only thing I think I can stomach right now. The smell of honey ham is making me nauseous.

After opening presents with everyone, Lily takes to hanging out with our cousins I her bedroom as the rest of us settle into routine conversation in the living room. The Christmas music playing from the television Christmas parade is all too jolly for me. "Excuse me, I'm wiped out. Happy Christmas, my loves," I kiss my grandparents goodbye and hug my Aunt Kash before heading to my room.

My Dad almost lets me slip away, but he hits his hand out as I walk by, placing it on the small mound forming round my navel. "Goodnight little bean," he says, his eyes roaming from my belly towards my face. The smile that illuminates his face makes his eyes crinkle in sincerity. He's the best man I'll ever know. I can only wish my little baby could have a father just as sweet. "Goodnight, Papi," I kiss the top of his head, then round to kiss Mum's cheek before skipping out of the room.

I'm extremely nervous for the quick interview session to go live online. David Wigg was kind of a cocky bastard, asking prying questions in such a conversational manner, but I'm not stupid. I didn't let on much to who the actual father of my baby is. I just made it clear that my baby daddy was in no way Sid. Ughh, whatever I'm glad to at least be rid of that headache.

I don't know what I was thinking. I sometimes cloak myself in miserable situations, at least that way I can control what happens to my heart. I'm blaming crazy pregnancy hormones, but honestly, I don't even feel pregnant. If my tummy wasn't slowly growing week by week, I'd forget I was even pregnant to begin with!

In my hope of high what hopes, I just want Rami to see it. Wherever he is. Though, judging by him ignoring my calls and messages, he obviously wants nothing to do with me. I wanted to tell him myself, before the interview actually streams. I don't want to give him yet another reason to be upset with me.

My fingers nervously twitch out several variations of texts. Each deleted and starting again, trying my hand at being as persuasive as I can. I don't want to tell him over text message, but at this point it's either that or voice mail— or maybe he'll finally return my call.

There's no winners here. It's too late for any of that. Romance, hah, that's out the window. I broke his trust, it was clear in the way he looked at me last night.

—————————————

Rami:

If there's one thing I know for certain— Roger Taylor was right!

Cars don't talk back.

I grip the steering wheel as I turn a sharp corner, getting blinded by the bright fog lights of the car opposite of me. Blasting my worn out Queen playlist, I quickly change the song. I can't even enjoy my favorite band anymore. All I think about is her and how she stomped all over my heart as if I wasn't worth a shit.

My family keeps calling; so I took my phone off the hook, keeping it on a silent so not disturb mode to be left alone with my melancholy blues.

Jesus Christ! There I go again. There she goes again. Her smile shining behind my eyelids, the memory of her beautiful laughter tearing my heart apart.

The next song, a classic, makes me want to belt my heartache and so I sing along, out loud, loud enough to disturb everyone's happy holiday as I drive by with the music blaring and the windows down.

🎵 "I'm just a soooul

Who's intentions are GOOOOOD,

Oh lord,

Please, don't let me be

Mis

Under

StoOd..."🎵

I finally make it back to my apartment. The place has never felt so cold and lonely. Though she's never been here, she's stubbornly sticking in my mind and my mind never stops replaying the times we've shared.

I lie in bed, going through my phone. As I get undressed, I let the speaker play the voicemails, torturing myself with the sound of her voice. Her venomous voice disguises itself as sweet honey to my heart, filling in the spaces that have cracked wide open from the same dame.

She says she loves me. She tells me over and over again about how sorry she is and how she really wants to talk to me in person. Ha! I won't even answer her calls, what makes her think I'd meet up with her in person?

I don't want love knocking at my door any more. I've had a taste of it. I drowned myself into her waters. I dove in too quickly for my own good, that much is obvious.

"Rami, please call me back. I-I, are you even getting my messages? Yeah, asking as if I'd actually be able to hear your answer," she scoffs at herself, I smile despite myself. "Stop rolling your eyes," She says just as I shake my head from doing so. "Anyway, there's something coming out tomorrow...I, um, it'd be better if you call me before it does...I miss you...end of message," the phone stops. That must be the last thing she sent me.

Who knows if she'll keep trying. As far as I can tell, I'm only her most recent interest. From the way Richie used to describe her, I'm sure she'll be over me soon. Why risk it?

——————————————-

Freddie:

We enjoyed a hearty Christmas meal, surrounded by my parents, Kash and her children, and my two little girls. Richie and Laura phoned us after dinner. They're away on honeymoon and sound like little tweeting love bird, every word a playful giggle.

My Charlie girl's been a good sport about it all, though we had spent the morning and early afternoon together alone in bed. As soon as extended family cleared out, she escaped to her old bedroom. I should probably go on up and check on her.

"This ones for you," Cherie says, placing a gift in my lap as she sits beside me, a quick kiss to my cheek. "I hope you like it!," She nudges me slightly as my fingers work to unwrap the gift.

My fingers trace along the smooth square, finding the slip, I pull out a small vinyl record. "You have to play it. That's the real gift, but this is autographed right...here," She says, turns the record over in my hands.

The giddiness in her tone is enough to excite me. Though I can't even tell who has signed this for me...let's not spoil the moment. "Thank you, Angel," I squeeze her hand before she can yank the gift away from me. "I love it."

"Well you haven't even heard it, yet," she giggles. "The best is yet to come. Now open your ears and listen to this!"

She gets up to turn off the television, the cracking noise of the record beginning to spin beneath the spindle makes me anxious. I wonder what my Angel has in store for me. Her gift is set for tomorrow, so far she thinks the Cartier bracelet I've given her is her only Christmas gift.

"Being the Queen is not all about signing. And being a diva is not all about signing—"

"You're joking!?," My voice rising as a huge smile spreads across my face once I hear the voice speaking to me on the recording. "Shh, you'll miss it," Cherie sits beside me again, cuddling close as we listen together.

My hand finds hers and I bring her knuckles up for a kiss. Aretha's commanding voice pulling around my heart strings as she continues.

"It has much to do with your service to people and your social contributions. It really is an honor if I can be inspirational to any singer or person— especially you, honey. Your wife is lovely to talk to," she laughs into the microphone; a vivacious musical laugh that makes me giggle with glee. "This ones just for you, Freddie! Merry Christmas, suga..."

"Dance with me, darling," I offer her my elbow, she accepts instantly. In the still of the night, we sway together to Arethas gorgeous voice singing...

🎶There ain't nothing

like the real thing, baby...

Nothing like the real thing...🎶

"Merry Christmas, my love," Cherie whispers in my ear, her fingers brushing the back of my neck. I reach for her lips, kissing her deeply, passionately, softly...

"Happy Christmas, mi amor..."

😅😅😅

™️

🤩🥰🥰🥰🥰

😉❣️

🙃❤️