Worth the Fall: A Single Dad, Romantic Comedy (Flirting with Forever Book 2)

I’m pacing the length of Mia’s office, every step making my frustration mount. The walls feel too close, the space too quiet, and the sight of her sitting so still behind that desk, trying to act like everything is fine, only adds fuel to the fire burning in my chest.

‘This shouldn’t be happening,’ I snap, dragging my hands through my hair for what has to be the hundredth time. ‘She shouldn’t be allowed to do this—to you, to us. It’s not right.’

Mia looks up at me, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the storm raging inside me. ‘Miguel,’ she says softly, but it’s not enough to stop the words tumbling out of me.

‘She’s trying to sabotage you,’ I continue, gesturing wildly. ‘It’s the only explanation. She knows what she’s doing—pushing herself into your career like this, making everything harder. It’s calculated.’

‘Stop,’ Mia says, standing and moving toward me. Her voice is measured, steady, but I’m too worked up to let it calm me down.

‘I hate this, Mia,’ I say, my tone sharp. ‘I hate that she’s forcing herself into your life, into your career. You’ve worked too damn hard to get where you are, and she has no right, no right to put you in this position.’

I stop pacing when she places her hand on my arm, her touch light but grounding. ‘Miguel, breathe,’ she says firmly, her green eyes locking on mine. ‘This isn’t helping.’

I look down at her, my chest tight, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say after a long moment, the words catching in my throat. ‘I’m so sorry, Mia. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this.’

She steps closer, her other hand resting on my chest, just above my racing heart. ‘This isn’t your fault,’ she says softly, her voice steady and sure. ‘Celine’s choices are hers, not yours.’

‘I brought this into your life,’ I counter, my voice breaking slightly. ‘If it weren’t for me⁠—’

‘Stop,’ she says, her fingers pressing against my chest. ‘You didn’t make her do this. You didn’t ask for her to act like this. None of this is on you.’

I exhale shakily, my hands running over my face. ‘It feels like it is. Like every move she makes is just another way to punish me. And now she’s dragging you into it.’

‘I’m not a victim here, Miguel,’ Mia says firmly, her voice laced with the quiet strength I’ve come to admire. ‘I can handle this. And I’m not letting her—or anyone else—derail what I’ve worked for. You need to trust me.’

Her words hit me hard, cutting through the haze of anger and guilt. I meet her gaze, my chest tightening at the determination I see there. ‘You’re incredible, you know that?’ I murmur, my voice rough with emotion.

A faint smile tugs at her lips. ‘I’ve been told.’

I let out a soft laugh despite myself, the tension in my chest easing just slightly. I reach up, cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing against her soft skin. ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this,’ I say quietly. ‘Whatever you need, just tell me.’

‘What I need,’ she says, her hand covering mine, ‘is for you to trust me. I’ve got this.’

I nod, though the knot in my stomach doesn’t fully loosen. ‘I trust you,’ I say, my voice low. ‘I just wish you didn’t have to deal with this at all.’

‘Me too,’ she admits, her smile fading slightly. ‘But we’ll get through it. Together.’

Her words are a balm to the ache in my chest, and for the first time all day, I feel a glimmer of hope. I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers, letting the quiet strength in her presence calm the storm inside me.

The tension in Mia’s office is suffocating. Celine stands near the desk, her usual polished composure slipping just slightly. Her hand grips the strap of her designer handbag, and for the first time in years, she doesn’t look like the self-assured force I’ve come to expect. Instead, there’s something almost… uncertain in her eyes.

Mia sits behind her desk, her spine straight but her hands tightly folded in front of her, the only sign of the stress she’s carefully masking. I lean against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

‘Let’s skip the pretense, Celine,’ I say sharply, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked into this firm. You’re not naive. You knew the conflict it would create for Mia, and you knew what it could cost her.’

‘Miguel,’ Mia says softly, her voice steady but cautious, like she’s trying to keep me from snapping.

‘No,’ I say, my gaze locked on Celine. ‘She needs to hear this.’ I push off the desk, stepping closer to my ex-wife. ‘You’re a lawyer, Celine. You know the stakes. You know how this could destroy her career, her future. So why? Why would you do this?’

Celine flinches slightly, her grip on her handbag tightening. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. The silence is unbearable, and my patience snaps.

‘Why did you do this?’ I demand, my voice rising. ‘Why come here, knowing what it would do?’

Celine’s lips part like she’s about to respond, but no words come out. She just stares at me, her dark eyes unreadable, and the frustration boils over. I grab my suit coat from the back of the chair, shoving my arms into the sleeves with sharp, jerky movements.

‘That’s it,’ I say, heading for the door. ‘I’m Mia’s lawyer now. We’re all going to march into her boss’ office and fix this mess right now.’

‘Miguel, wait,’ Celine says suddenly, her voice trembling. She reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me mid-step.

I turn to face her, my anger still burning, but it wavers slightly when I see her. Her bottom lip trembles, and a single tear slides down her cheek. She quickly brushes it away, but her composure is cracked wide open.

‘Let me explain,’ she says, her voice breaking. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’

I stare at her, my frustration still simmering but now tangled with confusion. ‘Then why?’ I ask, softer this time. ‘Why come here, Celine? What were you trying to accomplish?’

Celine hesitates, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I was angry. I felt… replaced. Like I didn’t matter anymore. And then I saw how happy you both were, and I—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head as another tear falls. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and raw. For the first time, I see something in her I haven’t seen in years: vulnerability.

She takes a deep breath, smoothing her dress as she straightens her posture. But the tears still linger in her eyes, and for a moment, she looks at me with an expression I can’t quite place—regret, maybe, or something close to it.

‘For what it’s worth,’ she says quietly to Mia, ‘Felicity adores you. And that terrifies me more than anything else.’

The admission hangs between us, a first crack in the wall we’ve built. It’s not resolution, not yet, but it’s something. A start. A chance.

I look between them, the woman I once built a life with and the woman I’m building a future with, and the weight of this moment settles heavy in my chest.

‘This has to stop,’ I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. ‘All of it.’

‘Miguel—’ Celine starts, and God, I know that tone. It’s the same one she used when we were falling apart, when everything was too complicated to fix.

‘No.’ I hold up my hand, gentler than I mean to. ‘Listen. Both of you.’ I search for the right words, the ones that might bridge this impossible gap. ‘This isn’t about the firm, or clients, or professional boundaries. This is about family. Our family. The complicated, messy, beautiful thing we’re trying to build here.’

Mia stares at her hands, twisted in her lap, looking smaller than I’ve ever seen her. ‘I never meant to⁠—’

‘I know,’ Celine interrupts, and something in her voice makes me look sharply at her. The perfect polish is gone, leaving something raw and real. ‘You never meant to fall in love with them. Just like I never meant to lose them.’

The admission hits me like a physical blow. After everything—the affair, the divorce, the careful dance of co-parenting…this is the most honest thing she’s said.

‘You didn’t lose us,’ I say softly, feeling her heartache it more than I expected to. ‘Felicity needs you. Always will.’ I look at Mia, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. ‘But she loves Mia too. Different kinds of love, different kinds of support. There’s room for both.’

Watching them, these two strong women who both love my daughter in their own ways, makes my throat tight. Celine’s shaky breath draws my attention as she starts talking about the color-coding system, and I see something shift in Mia’s eyes.

They talk about braiding hair and making princesses, and I remember both Celine’s early morning patience with Felicity’s curls, Mia’s bedtime stories complete with voices. Different kinds of love, different kinds of magic.

‘Maybe,’ I say carefully, watching them both, ‘that’s the point. Neither of you needs to replace the other. You just need to find a way to coexist. For Felicity. For all of us.’

When Celine moves to the window, I recognize the set of her shoulders—she’s made a decision. Her admission about choosing the firm doesn’t surprise me; I’ve known her long enough to recognize when she’s testing something, someone.

But watching her vulnerability as she talks about how Mia loves us, about how good she is for us…that’s new. That’s real.

She checks her reflection in the small mirror above Mia’s desk, carefully fixing her makeup. “Alright,” she says after a moment, her voice steadier now. “I’ll make this right. I’ll withdraw from the firm.”

“Celine…” Mia starts, her voice unsure.

“No, Mia,” Celine says firmly, turning to face her. “This is on me. I created the problem, and I’ll fix it. You’ve got enough to deal with without me complicating your career.”

Mia hesitates, then nods, her lips curving into a small, grateful smile.

Celine picks up her bag, glancing back at me with a wry smirk. “Good luck with her,” she says, jerking her head toward Mia. “You’ll need it.”

I grin, shaking my head. “You have no idea.”

When Celine reaches for the door, I see the slight tremor in her hand, the way she squares her shoulders like she’s preparing for battle. But instead of leaving, she turns back.

‘Miguel?’ Her voice is softer than I’ve heard it in years. ‘A word?’

Mia starts to step away, but I keep my hand steady on her back. ‘Anything you need to say, you can say to both of us.’

Celine nods, and for a moment I see a flash of the woman I once knew – before the bitterness, before the walls went up. ‘I just… thank you. For letting me be part of this. For not shutting me out when you had every right to.’

The words hit me hard. After everything – the affair, the divorce, the way she left— this feels like the closest we’ve come to real healing.

‘You’re Felicity’s mother,’ I say simply. ‘That never changed. Never will.’

She looks between us, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘Maybe… maybe we could have dinner sometime? All of us? Felicity keeps asking, and…’ She trails off, uncertain.

I feel Mia tense slightly beside me, but then she relaxes. ‘We’d like that,’ she says, and the pride I feel in this moment nearly overwhelms me.

‘I’ll have my assistant confirm with you once everything is transferred to a different firm,’ Celine adds, professional mask slipping back into place, but softer now. ‘And I’ll… I’ll see you both at the recital?’

‘We’ll be there,’ I promise.

After she leaves, the silence in the room feels lighter. Mia turns in my arms, pressing her face against my chest, and I hold her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her.

‘That was…’ she starts.

‘Yeah,’ I agree, understanding perfectly. I let out a long breath, my head falling back against the chair. “It’s funny,” I say, half-laughing. “I have this feeling that you and Celine are going to get along better than I ever did with her.”

The room is quiet for a beat, and then I hear Mia’s soft footsteps. I glance up and freeze. She’s standing against the door, one hand resting casually on the lock, a devious grin tugging at her lips.

“What does that look mean?” I ask warily, my eyes narrowing.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she starts walking toward me slowly, her hips swaying ever so slightly, her gaze locked onto mine.

When she stops in front of me, the grin widens, and she reaches down, inching her skirt up just enough to hike one knee onto the chair.

My hands move instinctively, settling on her hips as I blink up at her. “Oh,” I say, my voice dropping as understanding dawns. “That’s what that look means.”

Her fingers trail along the edge of my tie, tugging it just enough to pull me closer. “You’ve been very impressive today, Mr. Ramirez,” she says, her voice low and teasing.

My grip tightens on her hips as I lean forward, my lips curving into a smirk. “Have I now?”

She leans in, her mouth hovering just above mine, her breath warm against my skin. “Very,” she whispers.

And just like that, the tension in the room shifts, all the frustration and worry of the past few days melting away as I pull her closer, ready to lose myself in the moment with her.

Her lips brush against mine, featherlight, teasing, and it’s enough to undo me completely. My hands slide up from her hips to her waist, anchoring her closer.

“Mia,” I murmur against her mouth, her name a plea, a warning, a promise.

She smiles, her fingers now playing with the knot of my tie, loosening it further as her knee presses just slightly into my thigh. “What, Miguel?” she whispers, her voice innocent but her eyes anything but.

“You’re killing me,” I say, my hands tightening around her waist as she moves closer, effectively caging me in.

“Good,” she replies with a sly grin. She leans in again, her lips capturing mine this time with an intensity that sends heat coursing through me.

The chair creaks slightly as I shift, pulling her fully onto my lap. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging just enough to send a jolt of electricity through me. I groan, my fingers digging into her hips as she tilts her head, deepening the kiss.

She tastes sweet—coffee and the faint hint of the donuts she’d been eating earlier—and it’s intoxicating. Every thought, every worry about Celine, the firm, everything melts away as I lose myself in her.

“You know,” I say, breaking the kiss just enough to look up at her, “locking the door was a bold move.”

Mia grins, her cheeks flushed. “I figured you’d appreciate the initiative.”

“Oh, I do,” I reply, my voice low as I trail kisses along her jaw, down to the soft curve of her neck.

She sighs, her hands gripping my shoulders as her body melts against mine. “Miguel,” she whispers, her tone now laced with something softer, something more vulnerable.

I pull back slightly, brushing her hair away from her face to meet her eyes. “Yeah?”

Her expression shifts, the teasing grin replaced by something more serious. “Thank you. For today. For standing up for me. For… everything.”

I rest my forehead against hers, my hands still holding her firmly in place. “Always,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to face any of this alone, Mia. We’re in this together. You and me.”

Her eyes glisten, and she nods, her fingers brushing lightly against my jaw. “You make me feel safe,” she admits softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I smile, leaning in to kiss her again, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second.

The world outside her office doesn’t exist in this moment. It’s just us—her warmth, her laughter, the way she fits so perfectly against me.

But when her lips curl into another mischievous grin and she shifts on my lap, I realize we’re far from finished.

“Careful,” I say, my voice rough, my hands steadying her.

“Why?” she teases, her eyes sparkling.

“Because if you keep moving like that,” I say, leaning back slightly to look at her, “I’m going to forget we’re in your office.”

Her laughter bubbles up, light and free. “And would that be so bad?”

I grin, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “Not at all. But I’m guessing Linda might have something to say about it.”

Mia groans, dropping her head against my shoulder. “Linda. She’s never going to let me live this down, is she?”

“Probably not,” I admit with a chuckle.

She sighs dramatically, but when she lifts her head, her smile is back, soft and full of something I can only describe as hope.

“I guess we’ll just have to find a better time and place for this,” she says, her tone playful but her meaning clear.

“Agreed,” I say, pressing one last kiss to her lips before helping her stand.

As I adjust my tie and she smooths her skirt, the weight of everything we’ve faced today feels lighter.

‘Do you think we can really do this?’ she asks, looking up at me. ‘All of us? Together?’

I think about Felicity, about how much love she has in her life. About Celine finding her way back to something real. About Mia, who walked into our chaos and chose to stay, chose to help build something new from the broken pieces.

‘I think,’ I say carefully, ‘that love isn’t a finite resource. I think we’re all trying our best. And I think…’ I cup her face in my hands, overwhelmed by how much I love this woman who’s helped make my family whole in ways I never expected. ‘I think we’re going to be amazing.’

‘Come on,’ I say finally, taking her hand. ‘Let’s get you home. We can call Felicity on the way—tell her about dinner and how excited we all are to attend her dance recital…as a family.’

As she unlocks the door and peeks out to make sure the coast is clear, I can’t help but feel relief that we’ve hurdled our first major issue, we’ve finally turned a corner. I glance back at the office where everything changed. Sometimes the best families aren’t the ones we plan—they’re the ones we build, piece by piece, with all the love we can gather. And looking at Mia beside me, thinking of Celine’s olive branch and Felicity’s joy, I know we’re building something beautiful.