Chapter 24
Brynn
When I woke, Shea was still home and busily moving about the house. But after last night's events, I was too ashamed and embarrassed to see or talk to him. I waited until I heard his Bentley leave the driveway before I emerged from my bedroom.
I found Chloe at the kitchen table, poking around on her iPad with buds plugged into her ears.
“Morning, Chloe.”
She didn't answer. I tapped her shoulder and she pulled the headphones out.
“What?” she asked. Shea was right. She was mad.
“I said, good morning.”
“Oh. Hi.”
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Pretty crummy. I slept awful since I was up so late crying.”
I frowned and set my hand on her shoulder. “Chloe, I'm so sorry to hear that—”
“I bet,” she said as she shoved the earbuds back into her ears.
“Hey, wait, do you want any breakfast? I'm about to cook.”
“Dad already cooked breakfast since you weren't up. There should be a plate in there for you.”
“Okay.”
In the fridge, there was a plate covered with plastic wrap. A handwritten note was taped to the top of it.
“Brynn, Sorry for leaving without saying bye. I didn't want to wake you. Thanks again for staying with Chloe. Hope you enjoy breakfast—but be warned, I'm not a good cook like you are! Shea.”
I wondered if this false pretense that everything was fine and dandy was our new normal. Were we supposed to just forget about the things we'd done last night? It was impossible, of course—if either one of us thought that things would ever be normal again, we were in for a rude awakening.
I crumpled the note with the plastic wrap and tossed them both in the trash. I sat across from Chloe and ate my breakfast in silence while she tapped away at her iPad in her own little world. She wouldn't even look up at me. I knew she was mad, but I wasn't going to grovel for forgiveness. When she was ready to talk, we could talk.
I'd finished my meal and was about to leave the table when Chloe caught my eyes and smirked.
“When I asked how the gala went, you didn't tell me about this.” She spun her iPad around to show me the screen. Someone on Twitter had shared a photo of Shea and I, gala king and queen, during our slow dance.
I forced a smile. “That's because it's not really a big deal.”
“Huh.” Chloe examined the picture closer herself. “You sure? You look pretty happy. So does Dad. And you guys are dancing pretty close for being 'just friends.'”
“Chloe …” I groaned. I didn't know what to say. I really didn't want to go through this again—especially now that Chloe's suspicions had come true. I couldn't act oblivious anymore.
“What?” Chloe asked. “What's wrong, Brynn? Are you going to run off and tell my dad that I'm getting my hopes up again?”
I smiled and bobbed my head. “Ah-ha. Okay. There it is. Let's talk this through, Chloe.”
She stamped her foot under the table. “I can't believe you told him all that! Do you know what he wants to do now? Send me to therapy. All because you told him that I thought you guys were flirting with each other.” She pointed at her iPad screen again, with the damning picture of Shea and I staring into each other's eyes. “When you clearly have a thing for each other. So, that's cool. Send me to the loony bin because you're the ones living in denial. Thanks a lot, guys. I really appreciate it.”
Chloe could be so dramatic sometimes, it was hard not to laugh—but that only incensed her more.
“Why are you laughing?!” she yelled.
“Because therapy isn't a loony bin, Chloe. Lots of perfectly normal people go to therapy. Talking to a trained professional about your problems can help, whether you've got big problems or tiny ones. Look, I went to therapy for years, so I know firsthand how much it can help.”
Her anger was displaced by a sudden curiosity. “You did? What'd you have to go to therapy for?”
“My divorce, for one. Also for my body image issues, and the damage I did to my health because of it. And it helped me a lot.”
“Oh. So in other words, you want to send me to therapy, too.”
“I've never given it any thought, Chloe. I understand it could be a scary thought for you, but I really don't think therapy could hurt. It can only help to have someone to talk to about what's on your mind.”
“So wait, is it good or bad to talk to people? I can't keep it straight anymore. Because I talked to you, didn't I? I told you that I thought you and my dad have a thing for each other. And then I got in trouble, because you told my dad. Which is super messed up, because all I'm doing is telling the truth, and you two are the ones who can't stop lying, either to me or yourselves.”
I took a deep breath, turning her words over in my head. Hate to say it, but she kinda has a point. What's worse, I can't even tell her that she's right.
“First of all, Chloe, you're not in trouble. Second, I told your dad because I was worried. Your dad and I, we can't be together—”
“Why not?” she interjected before I could finish my thought.
“Because,” I sputtered. “Because I'm just your nanny.”
“But if you and my dad liked each other, you could stop being my nanny and maybe be my step-mom or something.”
My heart shattered. I reached over the table and held her hand. “Chloe, that's very sweet of you, but you're getting too invested in this idea of your dad and I being something we're not. That's why I was worried, and that's why I told your dad. Maybe he's right. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to talk to someone about this.”
“Great. I knew it. You do want to send me to therapy.” She rolled her eyes. “All I want is for everyone to be happy. I guess that's what makes me so fucked up in the head, huh?”
I squeezed her hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“Might as well. Everyone wants me to talk about all my problems, right?”
“Yesterday, you said something about how, if your dad and I got together, it'd make up for something you did to him.”
Chloe gulped loudly and nodded. “Yeh.”
“What did you mean by that?”
“The divorce,” she quietly sputtered.
“What about the divorce?”
“It was all my fault.”
I shook my head. “I don't know much about your mom and dad's relationship, but I seriously doubt that.”
“It's true. You know how I know?”
I shook my head. “No. Tell me.”
“It's kind of a long story.”
“That's fine with me. I don't have anything else to do.”
“Okay. So, one of Dad's teammates—his name was Ben Parker, but everyone called him Buddy—had a daughter, Carly. She's the same age as me. We were six when we first met. We also went to the same school, so she became my first real best friend.”
“Okay …”
“Now, Carly's parents were split up, and they shared custody of her. So, at games, Carly and her nanny would sit with me and my mom, and we'd watch our dads play hockey. It was great, 'cause I always got to see Carly—since our dads were teammates, they obviously got along and had a lot to talk about. Carly and Buddy would come over for dinner at our house, or we'd be at their house, almost every other night.”
“Uh huh.”
“But one year, Buddy had some bad injury problems and he missed most of the season. So he wasn't traveling with the team for months. So, while my dad was out on the road, Mom would take me and the twins over to the Parkers' house and we'd all watch the game. My mom and Buddy really got along, too. Carly and I would play together, and the twins would tag along with us—and Mom and Buddy would hang out with each other.”
I was starting to see where this was going.
“I never thought anything about it. Okay, I might have thought it was a little strange, because Carly and I would be playing together, and then my mom and Buddy just sort of disappeared together, and we were left all alone and had to watch over the twins. Which yeah, was sort of weird, because normally adults were always somewhere nearby to make sure we didn't get into any trouble. But we were only six or seven; what did we know? You never think that your parents could be up to anything bad.”
“Oh, Chloe.”
“But then, one day at school, I saw Carly and she was so excited she couldn't stop jumping up and down. She told me that my mom liked her dad, and that meant we were going to be sisters someday soon.”
My jaw dropped.
“And I might not have totally understood what that meant, but on some level, I knew it wasn't right. I liked Carly a lot—but I didn't want her to be my sister, because what about my dad? I loved my dad, I didn't want him to stop being my dad. And I didn't want Buddy to be my dad, either.”
“So … what happened?”
“As soon as I got home from school, I told Dad what Carly told me. And then the fights started. They yelled and screamed at each other for days. It was awful. And then Mom moved out of the house, Dad hired our first nanny, and that was it. They got a divorce.”
“Oh, Chloe. So did your mom and Buddy date after that?”
She tutted. “No. After I told Dad, Dad must've told the team, because Buddy suddenly got traded to Calgary. So my parents got divorced and, on top of it, my best friend moved away. And my mom was pissed at me because I 'betrayed' her 'trust.' She still brings it up today.”
I stood, walked around the table, wrapped my arms around Chloe and squeezed her for what must have been minutes without knowing what to say.
“I'm so sorry, Chloe,” I said at last. “I totally understand why you'd feel guilty, but that is not your fault. It sounds like your mom and dad had serious problems. Once those problems reached you, their relationship hit a breaking point.”
“But I never wanted to break them up.” Her voice started wavering as she began to cry. “I wanted them to stay together!”
I hugged her tighter. “You're a sweet girl, Chloe. You did the right thing. There was nothing else you could do. It's not your fault.”
“Yeh …” She wiped her tears away and looked at me. “Did my dad talk to you about that photo?”
“Yes, last night.”
She frowned. “I'm so sorry I told him. I don't know what came over me. I thought he knew, and he was telling me everything that you told him, and—”
I put her head against my chest and soothed her. “It's okay, Chloe. I'm not mad. It's better to have the truth out there.”
“What did he say when you told him?”
I chuckled. “He wondered why I hadn't told him earlier.”
“And what did you say?”
“That I didn't think it mattered. Because I'm not here as a thirteen-year-old girl with a stupid crush on a hockey player. I'm here to do my job—to be a nanny.”
She deflated in my arms. “Yeh …”
I kissed her on top of her head. “I know you want your dad to be happy, Chloe. He'll find someone someday. He'll have a lot of time to date around once he's retired. And that's coming up real soon, too.”
“But I don't want him to date around. I want him to date y—”
“Shh. I know. But it just can't be like that, Chloe.”
***
Our emotional bloodletting seemed to take a tremendous weight off of Chloe's shoulders. After our talk, she took a shower and got dressed. Her friends came over, including her crush, Adam, and the group went to the mall together. It was nice to see her smile again, and talk and laugh with her friends.
I wished I could say our talk revivified my spirits as well—but I felt worn down instead. It was exhausting to lie. To pretend with a straight face that Shea and I didn't have a thing for each other. To act as though I was merely his employee and nothing more, and nothing ever made me so happy than that.
Whereas Chloe could tell the truth and feel a million pounds lighter, I had to lie for her sake. Because telling her the truth would only screw with her head. So instead, I had to screw with my own head. But maybe that was the burden of being an adult.
Sigh.
Rather than sit around an empty mansion moping about how confusing my life was, I put myself to work.
That's what I'm here for after all, right?
I went from room to room, gathering up all the laundry, and threw it in the wash.
Hours passed as I folded the Ellis family clothes, deep in thought.
Cynthia sounds like a real bitch.
She should be groveling for Chloe's forgiveness—not implying that Chloe somehow betrayed her for telling her dad the truth. It was no wonder that Chloe still had issues over it. Her mother was holding her as an emotional hostage over their divorce.
Shea's right; Chloe probably should be in therapy.
She was obviously dealing with a lot. A lot more than any fourteen-year-old girl should have to deal with. Once Chloe got over the fear of being 'in therapy,' it'd turn out to be a really good thing for her.
Chloe wants us to be together—and just getting a mere whiff of me and Shea's mutual attraction made all her old wounds resurface.
I could only imagine how much worse it'd be for her if she knew the truth—that she was right and, in fact, her dad and I had already fooled around.
Hell, she nearly caught us last night.
At what point are we gaslighting this poor girl and making her problems worse?
Unless, of course, Shea and I manage to keep it strictly professional.
Like he wants.
I finished folding the laundry and returned the sorted, organized stacks to everyone's bedrooms.
But when I got to putting my clothes away last, I realized something was missing.
My thong from last night.
I looked all over my bedroom for it—under the bed, in the trash, lost somewhere in the bed sheets, anywhere Shea could've thrown it.
But I just couldn't find it. And I had a funny feeling it wasn't exactly missing.
Really, Shea?
I sat on my bed and shook my head with a sigh.
Who do we think we're fooling?
This isn't going to work out.