Thiswas supposed to be impossible.
And yet here we are.
“I’ll protect your career,” I tell her. “Even if that someday means you have to leave.”
“I already told you, I’m not leaving.” She says it fiercely. “Not unless you fire me.”
“I’m not firing you.”
She takes a breath. Steadies herself. “All right then. So it’s done. We pretend this didn’t happen. We go back to professional. Just the nanny and the boss.”
I want to believe that’s possible.
Want to believe we can put this behind us.
“No repeats,” I say. Making it a rule. Making it final.
Her smile is sad. “No repeats. For Ben.”
“For Ben,” I agree.
But I don’t want to agree. I want to find a way tomake this work. Want to tell her we’ll be careful, we’ll figure it out, we’ll find moments when it’s safe.
I don’t say any of that.
I walk her to the door. Hand her the notebook she left earlier. Make sure her hair is smooth and her clothes are straight.
Professional. Appropriate. Like we just finished a contract review.
“Goodnight, Marco,” she says.
“Goodnight, Jess.”
She crosses the courtyard. Disappears into the main house.
I stand in the studio doorway staring at the space she’d occupied only moments before.
Then I close the door. Lock it. Turn off the remaining lights.
My phone is on the counter. Three texts from Luis confirming Ben’s status. All good. No issues.
The privacy window worked.
No one knows.
I should feel relieved.
Instead I feel hollow. Like I just committed to something I can’t take back.
I pick up the towel we used. It still smells like her lavender scent.
I should throw it in the laundry. Should eliminate evidence like the paranoid bastard I am.
I fold it instead. Smell it one more time, then set it aside.
When I finally head back to the main house, Niamh is in the kitchen making tea.
“Everything sorted?” she asks. Not looking up.
