Sleepless Nights and Opening Lights
MILLIE
WatchingAura is the dream job. I knew when I took this job that I would love it. I just never expected to love it this much. There’s something so peaceful about the way she looks up with those curious eyes, the way she snuggles into my arms when she needs comfort. I can’t help but smile every time she lets out that little sigh, content in my arms. She’s such a sweet baby, and being her nanny feels like a privilege.
Aura and I chill on the couch for a while, my eyes glued to the screen as I watch my favorite show, Snack vs Chef. I’m the type of person who always has a weird fascination with food competition shows. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, but tonight it feels different. I’m holding Aura in my arms, her tiny body pressed against me as I absentmindedly stroke her soft hair.
I know they say that babies can become dependent on being held all the time, but I can’t help it. It feels right. And besides, I’m convinced it’s allowing her to get to know me better. There’s something about bonding with her like this that makes my heart feel full in a way I didn’t know was possible.
I never imagined I’d fall so hard and fast for a baby that wasn’t mine. But here I am, totally wrapped around this tiny girl’s finger.She’s more than just Gabriel’s daughter—she’s this bright, sweet little soul who makes everything feel softer.
And being with her like this, at night, when the world is quiet, and she’s curled up like she trusts me more than anyone—it makes everything else fade away. I’m not thinking about my to-do list, or the stress of opening the café, or even my messy heart. I’m just here. With her. Completely present.
After a while, I glance at the clock. It’s getting late—around ten. Time to get ready for bed. I rise gently from the couch, making sure Aura stays safely cradled in my arms. The last thing I want is for her to stir in her sleep. I head up the stairs, and, true to Gabriel’s instructions, I find the guest bedroom quickly.
When I walk in, I’m immediately taken aback by how beautiful the room is. The bed frame is massive—a beautifully carved wooden frame that looks both sturdy and elegant. A soft, cream-colored comforter covers the mattress, and small touches—like neatly folded towels on the bed and carefully arranged throw pillows—make the space feel warm and inviting. But what catches my eye the most are the snacks.
There’s a small tray of Italian sodas, some cookie dough bites, and chips. A note is at the center of it all.
Thank you for watching my little girl while I work. I was nervous to leave her with a random person, but if there’s anyone who I trust with my daughter, it’s you. It’s been good to get to know each other a little over the past few weeks.
This man, damn, he is sending me a million different signals, and I don’t know what to do with any of them. It’s not lost on me that I find him ridiculously attractive, and sure, I’d love to see if we could be something more, but is that crazy?
He’s the father of the baby I’m caring for, and I’m pretty sure he’s got enough on his plate as it is. But how could I not feel this way about him? There’s something about the way he looks at me—like I’m someone worth paying attention to, not just his daughter’s nanny.
And the worst part? He doesn’t eventry. He just shows up—quiet, thoughtful, strong—and somehow shakes me without even knowing it. This note? It’s simple. Sweet. But to me, it feels like a full-blown confession. And I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much… or not enough.
I gently place the note down and sit on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to reflect on everything. It feels surreal, honestly. Gabriel and I have shared conversations over the past few weeks, but there’s this unspoken tension that I can’t ignore. I’m not blind to the way our interactions sometimes seem to carry a little more weight than they should.
I look down at Aura, who is peacefully asleep in my arms. I gently rock her and lay her in the bassinet next to the bed.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. I keep replaying the words from the note over and over in my mind.If there’s anyone I trust with my daughter, it’s you.
Is that a sign? Does he trust me, or is he just being polite? I can’t decide. So, instead of worrying about it, I focus on Aura.
She wakes up three times throughout the night, each time stirring for a feeding. Waking up to care for her isn’t a bother at all to me. It feels right.
“Hi pretty girl,” I whisper as I scoop her up from the bassinet, “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but talk to her like she’s an adult—like she’ll answer me. But it’s soothing to say something, even if she’s still too young to understand.
Aura is such a cute baby and has such a big head of hair that I’m certain she’s inherited it from her dad. She’s a tiny baby, but I love how she looks at me with such curiosity. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll grow into a smart, independent little girl—though I’m sure Gabriel will miss these early mornings when all she needs is to be held and fed.
After I finish feeding Aura, I rock her gently back to sleep and lay her in the bassinet beside the bed. I settle back down, pulling the blanket around myself, and let sleep finally take over.
I dream of warmth. Laughter. Something soft and safe. I don’t remember the details, just the feeling that I wasn’t alone. That maybe I belonged somewhere.
But just as I’m drifting off into a peaceful slumber, I hear a noise. A sound I can’t quite place. My heart skips a beat, and I shoot up in bed, my eyes wide open.
“Hey there, Bumper,” he says in that voice of his, deep and a little teasing, but there’s a warmth there that makes my heart flutter.
What time is it?
It can’t be 6 am already, can it? I leap out of bed and rush to the bathroom, eager to fix my face and brush my teeth before facing anyone. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I groan—I look like a mess, with sleep creases on my cheek and hair sticking out everywhere.
Why is it I feel more nervous seeinghimfirst thing in the morning than I do during a health inspection at the café? Probably because he seestoo muchwithout even trying.
When I walk back into the bedroom, I find Gabriel sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Aura in his arms. Seeing him like that, so effortlessly caring for his daughter, does something to me I can’t quite explain. He looks like he’s been doing this forever—holding his baby girl with such ease.
