I was not looking to fall in love again.
I could not even imagine moving on with anyone else. Who was worth trusting? Who was worth my time? And, most importantly, who would embrace Aleesa and love her like their own?
The whole idea of that seemed wrong because I had done it before. I put years into a relationship—one I never expected to be cut short. I never thought the woman I married would be taken away from me just like that.
In a snap.
A blink of the eye.
Justgone.
I was relieved to finally make it home again. It was close to two in the morning when I walked through the door. The living room was vacant, as well as the kitchen. Both were spotless.
That was one of the great things about having Octavia. Shelovedcleaning. My house was never out of order or filthy—not that it had been before she was hired. I had a cleaner who took care of my house.
But ever since Octavia was hired, my pantry had been organized with fancy containers and baskets, Aleesa’s toys were always put away at night, and even the throw blankets would be folded neatly and placed in their designated baskets.
Making my way upstairs, I rounded the banister and walked through the hallway, stopping at Aleesa’s door. It was cracked open, and from there I could see her night-light glowing, illuminating the pink butterflies painted on the walls.
I pushed the door open wider with my fingertips, and my heart pumped faster. An unfamiliar warmth coursed through my veins when I saw the perfect moment before me.
Aleesa was lying in her bed, but she was not alone. Octavia lay right next to her, with Aleesa settled close. Both were asleep.
Octavia had a hand wrapped around my daughter, as if she would never let her go. Seeing that made me feel even worse for what I had said the night before. She really was a good caretaker. And she really did care about my baby girl. I could tell none of this was pretend for her. It was genuine and honest.
Knowing she was probably exhausted, I walked to the side of the bed and tapped her on the shoulder. She startled awake, clinging to Aleesa, eyes wide, as if an intruder were breaking in to rob her.
I noticed she did that a lot. Startled easily. Jumped or tensed whenever I caught her off guard. Granted, many people would be startled if caught off guard, but with Octavia, there was always a hint of fear in her eyes ... almost like she thought she was being attacked.
“It is just me,” I whispered, holding a hand up.
“Oh.” She blinked a few times. “God, you scared me.”
“I apologize.”
Her head dropped so she could look at Aleesa. Then she kissed her forehead before pulling her arm from beneath her and gently situating her on the pillows.
“She was good today,” Octavia whispered when she stood up. She avoided my eyes as she walked past me and left the room.
I placed a kiss on Aleesa’s temple, pulled the blanket over her, and left the room as well. I normally stuck around, lying with her a bit to make up for lost time, but there was something I had to say to Octavia first. I caught her near the mudroom, stuffing her feet into a pair of sneakers.
“There’s leftover wild rice and chicken soup in the fridge if you want some,” she said, standing upright once she was situated. “I also ordered pizza for lunch earlier, so there are still a few slices in the fridge as well.”
“Ah.” I scratched my brow with my thumbnail. “Thanks.” I did not like how serious and to the point she was being. No jokes? No sarcasm? Nothing? I must have really hurt her feelings, which I did not think was possible.
She forced a smile at me, then turned for the patio doors in the kitchen like she always did when she was ready to go to the guesthouse.
I could still remember offering her the guesthouse as an option when she first moved here, but I had made it clear that she did not have to stay in it. I had three other bedrooms she could use, so I did not want her to think I did not want her in my house.
She had insisted on being in the guesthouse, though; said it would do her some good to have a place to go tooutsideof the one she theoretically worked at but still be close enough that she could pop in when needed.
“Hey, Octavia,” I called as she gripped the door handle.
She paused before peeking over her shoulder.
I stepped closer, and she turned fully to face me. As she did, I tried not to focus on her flat belly below the white crop top, or the way her black leggings hugged her thick hips and thighs. Or her hair, which was simple today. Down and swimming around her shoulders. No jewels. I wondered if the lack was to match her mood.
Yeah, I had really fucked up.
