She chuckles. “Any other errands you need done?”
“No. Just make sure that my daughter is okay while I’m at work. Knowing you’re here with her this past week has made this transition a lot easier to handle.”
She reaches over and places her hand on top of mine, but almost immediately, she retracts it—as if the touch burned her. There’s definitely electricity coursing through me now, and I’m wondering if she feels the same. “I’m happy to help, Henley. You’ve given me purpose when I really needed it.”
Purpose. There’s a word that’s unfamiliar to me as well.
Is Remy my purpose now?
My daughter peers up at me from my lap in that moment and when our eyes meet, that feeling I’ve been fighting returns—panic mixed with infatuation. Panic for the tiny human I’m now responsible for, and infatuation with how incredibly perfect she is. I never knew I could be so obsessed with another human.
God, I have a daughter.
Clearing her throat, Elodie motions to my plate. “Are you finished?”
“Uh, yeah. But you cook, I clean.”
“Sounds fair.” She heads to the kitchen and I watch her go.
There’s a woman in my house—my house that no other woman besides my sister, Laney, or Carol has ever stepped into—and part of me is surprised by how much I like it.
I’ve gotten used to coming home to silence and bland evenings with no one to talk to but myself. Do I miss my space? Maybe a little. But this place is different now—the smells, the sounds, thefeelings.
Yeah, I think my nanny is part of what’s making me feel panic mixed with infatuation as well.
“So, are you just gonna watch sports again tonight? Or are you up for a movie?” Elodie asks as she walks back to the dining room.
“Sorry. I’m a creature of habit. My evening routine was sort of on repeat before…” I gesture to my daughter.
“I can tell, but maybe you’ll be open to something new? I just need to check out for a while.”
Her comment makes me pause. “Check out?”
“Yeah. Don’t you have a ritual that you do when you just need to turn your mind off for a bit?”
“Yeah. I drink.”
Placing her hands on her hips, she scolds me with her gaze. “That’s not a very healthy way to escape.”
“Wasn’t asking for your opinion.”
She rolls her eyes and sits back down in her chair, reaching out to play with Remy’s hands. “Sorry, but there’s got to be a better outlet than that.”
“It’s not like I’m an alcoholic. But when I’ve had a long day or something is on my mind, I like a drink to take the edge off. Why? What do you do? Eat celery?”
Her mouth falls open before a laugh escapes. “What?”
“I don’t know. That was the first healthy thing that popped into my head.”
She shakes her head. “No. No celery. Popcorn is more my snack of choice, but besides that, I listen to music.”
“What kind of music?”
“Any and everything. Just depends on my mood. But lately…” Her heavy sigh sounds like she’s been carrying a weight on her chest. “It’s just not helping.”
“So, movies?”
“Yup. That’s the next best thing.”
