Holy shit.
“Emma?”
What do I call him? Daddy Dom? Professor Ali? A-hole definitely feels most fitting right now. “John,” I rasp, the shock in my voice evident.
We stand there staring, me gaping in disbelief, him blinking at me in confusion, his normally perfectly polished mask peeled back exposing a tempest of emotions underneath it.
The woman beside him clears her throat. She is stunning with gorgeous skin and perfectly done makeup. Her dark brown hair is pinned up.
“Sorry, this is my wife, Maryam. Maryam, this is Emma. She’s a former student.”
I’m a former of all my titles now, A-hole.
He’smarried?
Oh my God, I’m his dirty little secret. It’s why I’ve never seen his place. We always met at the club. He wasn’t just hiding me because I was his student. It’s why he said he couldn’t be fully honest. My stomach rolls and I clutch it as I move past them and head up the stairs.
“Emma!” his voice calls after me as I close and lock the bathroom door behind me.
——————
Somehow, I manage to get through the night. Hallie and Lexie are a welcome distraction, making it easy to shift my focus. Every time I had a minute to myself to spiral, one of them would run up or ask me a question and pull me out of my funk.
The waiting is the worst kind of torture. I didn’t let him explain after he arrived, and I’ve been ignoring his texts all night. I can’t turn off my phone in case Becka or her guys need to reach me. It feels like an agonizing countdown toward my heartbreak. Will he come back with them? Is this all going to implode in front of Becka, Robert, and Bennett?
Oh God, what if he’s telling them about me? Will they ever want me to babysit again?
When I see headlights pull up thirty minutes later, I’mpacing and head to the kitchen to wipe down the counters and load the dishwasher. I hear someone climbing the stairs as footsteps move toward the kitchen.
“You can just throw those in the sink,” Becka says. “I like to wash them by hand.”
My anxiety is spiraling out of control as I grip the counter, letting my intrusive thoughts spill out, convinced Becka knows all the sordid details.
“Becka, I can explain.” I turn toward her, ready to face the music.
“Explain what?” she asks, her brow furrowed.
“Never mind. How was dinner?”
“It was good, but Jack seemed distracted and was on his phone all night.”
“I have to tell you something,” I say nervously.
“What’s wrong? Were the girls okay for you? Oh God, were they awful and you’re telling me you’re quitting?”
“Gosh, no. Nothing like that. They were great.” I twist my hands in front of me, unable to contain the nervous energy bubbling to the surface.
“Okay, good, because they adore you and there’s no way I’ll be able to find a sitter as wonderful as you.”
Will she still think that when I tell her what I’ve done?
“Are you and Jack close?”
She stares at me in confusion for several seconds, blinking. “Not where I thought you were going, but okay. Robert recently reconnected with him. They were never really close, and when their brother Michael was killed, it really tore apart their whole family.”
He’s shared a little about his brother, but clearly I don’t know the whole story. “That’s awful. What happened?”
“Michael was beaten to death at school. It wasn’t ruled a hate crime, but it was definitely because of his sexuality. It happened while Robert was in his freshman year of college. His family was never the same after that. When we startedfamily dinners, Robert decided that he wanted to reconnect with Jack. I think they each blamed themselves for Michael’s death, and they both withdrew from the family because of it.”
