ALEX
As I steppedinto the elevator and pressed the fourth floor, the question I’d been trying to ignore echoed in my head once again.
What have I done?
In business, I’d been described by my competitors as impulsive because I never hesitated. I went with my gut. I trusted my instinct. Period. End of story.
It had served me well. I’d made big moves that other people in my position probably wouldn’t have made. If they hadn’t worked out, I’d be a huge failure. That was the risk I’d been willing to take. Go big or go home. Without that instinct I would not have gotten to where I was today professionally.
I’d never employed that same tactic in my personal life because my personal life had only ever included Ash. I met her at twelve. The only instinct I had then was that I wanted to kiss her and be around her as much as humanly possible.
To be fair, it wasn’t that far off from how I felt about Sadie. With the exception that I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her. Which is precisely why I was questioning the decision I’d just made. To say that I was at war within myself would be an understatement.
Academically, I knew this was not a smart move. What I felt for Sadie was dangerous. It was unwanted. It was off limits.Shewas off limits. I had safeguarded myself by building what I thought was an impenetrable wall complete with No Trespassing and Keep Out signs hanging on it. If I could place a junkyard dog around my heart and hormones I would.
So why the hell was I playing with fire?
The answer was simple really, I just didn’t want to face it.
This morning, seeing Sadie sitting on the curb, her dog and cat by her side, against the backdrop of her entire life in smoldering ashes behind her, had ignited every single primal cell in my body. I would’ve done anything to protect her, to keep her safe, to take care of her.
Thankfully, she’d allowed me to help. If she’d declined my offer, I would have found another way to ensure that she had everything she needed.
My phone dinged with a message as I walked down the hallway of the hospital toward Mrs. G’s room. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was a message from Mia.
Mia:Everything is taken care of for Sadie’s arrival.Still haven’t heard back from owner. Will let you know as soon as I do.
The owner would be an idiot not to sell. I was offering well above market value and the fire had destroyed the building. There was no way the payout from his insurance was more than the number I’d put on the table. Maybe this was a delay tactic. Perhaps he wanted to see how high I would go. The truth was, he could name his price. And everyone had a price. As far as I was concerned, the deal was done. Still, I would be much happier when contracts were signed.
Instinctually, I scrolled down to the text Sadie had sent letting me know that she and Charli were on their way to my building. I’d messaged back to her that Emilio, the concierge, would be expecting her and that I would be home with Lexi later this afternoon.
I reread our exchange. The first digital exchange we’d had. There was nothing romantic about it. But for some reason it felt special to me. Which was more evidence that this living situation was a horrible idea.
I came to a stop outside of Mrs. G’s room and took a deep breath. I needed to hide the guilt that I was feeling over her being in here, but it wasn’t easy. She knew me. Too well. All she had to do was look at me and she’d know exactly what I was feeling.
With my expression and body language neutral—in an attempt to disguise the shame and responsibility that was weighing me down like a thousand pounds of cement—I walked into the room. I saw that Mrs. G had some color back in her cheeks and her favorite showThe Great British Bakeoffwas playing. I’d had a Roku flat screen delivered so she wouldn’t miss any of her shows.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as I walked to the bedside.
“I’mfine. I just want to get out of here,” she replied and then looked past me. I could see her disappointment when she saw that I was here solo. “Where’s my Lexi girl?”
Mrs. G loved me. There was no doubt in my mind. But I’d been downgraded to second place in her top ten favorite people. Lexi had taken over the number one spot and I was good with that. She’d been the only maternal figure in my daughter’s life. And even though she wasn’t technically her grandmother, in every way but blood, she was.
“She spent the night at Maddox’s for Hannah’s birthday. I’m picking her up at two. I can bring her back after I get her.” I explained as I lowered onto the chair beside her bed.
“No, no, no.” She waved her hand dismissively and readjusted herself on her pillows. It was then I noticed the bruising on her arm where her original IV had been put in. Seeing the discoloration and knowing that I was the cause made me equal parts angry at myself and sick to my stomach.
How could I have been so selfish?
After a long exhale, she patted my hand. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. One visit per day is enough. Too much, actually. I know how busy you are. Speaking of that, have you had any progress in finding someone? I thought I’d be out of here by now, but Dr. Fisher is talking about transferring me to a rehab facility, so it might be a week or two before I’ll be back in fighting shape.”
I’d spoken with Dr. Fisher this morning and he said that due to complications from the blood clot, Mrs. G would more than likely be spending closer to a month, maybe even six weeks at the rehab facility once she was discharged.
Not that the timeline mattered as far as childcare. I was going to have someone full-time for Lexi, and Mrs. G could continue to live with me for as long as she wanted. Or I’d happily buy her a place of her own. But her days of watching Lexi full time were over.
That was a conversation for another day. One that I was sure was going to be met with resistance, but it wasn’t up for debate.
“I found someone this morning,” I explained. I hadn’t planned on being vague. I hesitated because I knew if I told Mrs. G who was going to be filling in for her, she’d see right through me and I was scared of what she might find.
