All the fight ran out of me. My heart stopped working, my fingers going numb.
A date.
Beau was going on a date.
And he was simply there asking me to do my job—to essentially babysit his daughter. Because that was all I was to him. A glorified babysitter.
Embarrassingly, my eyes filled with tears. Shame nipped at my skin, though I refused to look away from Beau. I couldn’t.
I just stared at him. Like a lovesick fool.
Beau stared back at me, definitely noting my tear-filled eyes because it was impossible not to. His features flickered for a second, softening as he visibly swallowed.
Then he turned his back on me.
Like I was nothing.
Nothing but the nanny.
BEAU
I made a mistake.
A big fucking mistake.
Well, I’d made plenty of big fucking mistakes in my life. Not making Naomi sign a prenup was one of them. I still felt the sting of her taking almost all of my savings, the only viable option because the alternative was to give her half of my share of the restaurant.
I could never say marrying her in the first place was a mistake, because then I wouldn’t have Clara.
Since becoming a parent, I’d made a bunch of mistakes. Not packing a change of clothes in the diaper bag, not buckling Clara into her high chair. Not being alarmed enough by a small, dime-sized bruise on my daughter’s stomach.
Yeah, I’d made plenty of mistakes as a father.
But going on this date trumped them all. Except the bruise.
Could I bring myself to think that hiring Hannah in the first place was a mistake? I thought of my daughter’s smile, thelaughter, and warmth in our house since her arrival. The way Clara’s eyes had lit up when I brought out her cake, the cake Hannah made her. I thought of fairy gardens, picnics, fresh flowers, and music.
I thought of handmade Christmas decorations. Chocolate brownie batter on the edge of her mouth.
I thought of rooms that smelled of her.
Her long, tanned legs. I thought of the hope in her eyes when she walked out of Marty’s office, the weight lifting off her shoulders that I’d been too self-centered to even notice she was carrying.
No. Even though hiring Hannah had caused me a great deal of pain, sleepless nights, and overall discomfort being in my own home, I couldn’t say it was a mistake. I wouldneversay that was a mistake.
It was a gift to have her in my life. To witness the beauty of who she was. Her kindness. Her imagination. Her intelligence. All a gift.
My mistake was going on this fucking date and having to see Hannah’s eyes fill with tears, her delicate features curling in pain.
Because of me. I did that. I hurt her.
Not just today.
But almost every day since I’d met her, I’d hurt her. By trying to make myself not want her and trying to make her hate me—as if that were easier—I’d hurt her. She was soft, loving, gentle, and never fought back. Yet I’d kept hurting her. It was bad enough when I didn’t know her past, it was still inexcusable then. But finding out what she’d been married to, seeing those bruises blooming on her delicate skin, knowing it was not the first time a man had marked her… it made me sick.
I’d been able to live with it up until then, telling myself it was for the best, for the greater good. To ensure that she didn’thave any romantic notions about me. This was my backup plan if my willpower ever failed me, if I ever crossed a line by trying to come on to her. To taste her rosebud lips, palm her heart-shaped ass?—
“Beau?”
