“Caroline has had her mother try to force a relationship with her stepfather on her and she resents it. We need to let her come around to this on her own.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“She will.” I’m certain of it. “She loves all of us, too. She just hasn’t acknowledged it yet.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I smile at him. “Never doubt me.”
“I don’t,” he says softly. “I never have. Now let me put Noah back to bed so I can show you how much I appreciate you.”
I lean over and kiss him. “I like the sound of that.”
CHAPTER32
Grayson
I love New York City.
I love my job.
I love my apartment.
I love my daughter.
And I am absolutely fucking miserable in New York City, doing my job, living in my apartment, with my daughter.
And my misery has nothing to do with any of those things.
I had to leave Honeysuckle Harbor. I couldn’t risk running into Caroline. And I couldn’t deal with seeing her around every single corner, whether she was actually there or not. Everything in my apartment reminds me of her. Everything around town reminds me of her. Seeing James and Cas reminds me of her.
But now that I’ve run away to New York City, I’ve realized that just being alive reminds me of her. I can’t even escape her when I’m unconscious. I dream of her.
So the fact that Evelyn and I are living in New York, and my daytime nanny agreed to accompany me here for a week, hasn’t made anything better.
I’m miserable.
I don’t know how my daughter is doing. Probably fine. The perpetually scowling baby girl is hard to read. Evelyn still frowns at ninety percent of the people, activities, and locations around her.
And Jane cries once a day.
Not Evelyn, who really doesn’t cry much.
No, Jane, the nanny.
But that’s not unusual or reserved for New York. That was a daily occurrence even before boarding that plane and, honestly, I’m surprised she agreed to come with us.
The crying is always my fault, but it’s always an accident. At this point, it’s become a routine and neither of us actually gets that upset about it. I usually say something brusquely—i.e., in my usual tone—ordon’tsay something I should, and she tears up for a few minutes.
But we both realize this is just how the other person is wired and we’ve somehow learned to move past it.
I keep waiting for her to quit and I even asked her if she feels that she needs to move onto another job.
She’s assured me that she knows she is overly emotional and that she takes things the wrong way and not to worry about it. She thinks this is a learning experience. Well…okay.
We’re practically to the point where if she didn’t cry, I would think something was wrong.
So, for the most part, everything in New York is fine.
