“Maybe Iwasforcing her give up her dreams.”
“No. She made a choice. She chose her desires over her family. That’s on her, not you. I’m not saying it’s wrong what she did, I’m saying it hurt other people and maybe she could have done it differently.” Chloe reaches out, and before I can process what’s happening, her hand is on my arm. “You can’t sacrifice your entire life, your happiness, and your dreams just because someone else wants you to. That’s not love. That’s control. And you let her go to do what she wanted and you do what you love, too. That’s generous and giving. Two things that I know you are. In a way she was giving you a gift, too. You have two beautiful daughters who adore you. Someday she’ll think about what she did and maybe she’ll feel guilty, but that’s not your journey. You need to celebrate. Celebrate what you’ve accomplished, Jonah.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Because maybe —maybe—she’s right. Maybe I’ve been carrying guilt that isn’t mine to carry.
“Why are you here, Chloe?” The question comes out rougher than I intended. “Really here. You could have stayed in Missoula, found another substitute position, waited for something to open up there. Why come back to a town you clearly couldn’t wait to leave?”
She drops her hand, and I immediately miss the contact. “You read me pretty well, huh?”
“You’re not subtle about disliking Valentine after having grown up here.”
“I don’t hate it.” She leans against the wall, and I mirror her position, keeping a safe distance between us. “I just... I left here thinking I was going to have this amazing life. Build something of my own. Prove that I was more than just another Valentine girl who peaked in high school.” She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Instead, I ended up with a degree I can’t use, an ex-boyfriend who moved on in record time, and a bank account that’s more depressing than my dating history.”
“So you came back.” I’m not judging. Being an adult is hard. She tested the waters of the world, but sometimes the pool in your back yard is warmer than the ocean miles away.
“So I came back,” she agrees. “With my tail between my legs and my mother’s I-told-you-so echoing in my ears. Super fun.”
“Your mom said you should stay in Valentine?”
“My mom said I should marry Derek and stop chasing ‘unrealistic career goals.’” Chloe’s voice is sharp with old hurt. “She said teaching jobs are competitive and I should be grateful for what I have. That wanting more was greedy.”
I think about my ex-wife saying almost the same thing. That I should want more. That staying in Valentine was settling and the opportunities were limited.
Funny how people can make you feel guilty no matter what path you choose.
“For what it’s worth,” I say carefully, “I think you’re going to be an amazing teacher. And Mrs. Henderson is lucky the position will go to you when she retires.”
Chloe’s smile is small but genuine. “Thanks. That... that means a lot.”
We stand there in the hallway, the house quiet around us except for the soft sound of the twins’ breathing from their room. The space between us feels charged, like there are a thousand things we’re not saying.
“I should probably go to bed,” Chloe says finally. “Early morning at the bakery and all.”
“You don’t have to keep coming,” I remind her, even though the thought of mornings without her makes something in my chest ache. “That’s not part of the job.”
“I know. But I like it.” She meets my eyes, and there’s something vulnerable in her expression. “I like learning. I like the quiet. I like—” She stops herself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” She pushes off the wall. She stops right beside me and rises to her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Good night, Jonah.”
She’s halfway to her room when I call after her. “Chloe?”
She turns back.
“I like it too. Having you there.”
Her smile could light up the entire house. “Good. Then I’ll see you at five.”
I watch her disappear into her room, and I stand in the hallway for a long moment, trying to get my thoughts under control.
This was supposed to be simple. She was supposed to be just the nanny. Temporary help until I figured something else out.
But somewhere between the flour explosion and the bedtime stories and the early morning hours in my bakery… it stopped being simple.
Chapter 7
Jonah
