6. Ayla

6

AYLA

T he winding road stretches before me, a ribbon of asphalt cutting through the lush forest. The forest…I can’t say I saw a lot of that in the big city I came from. It’s a welcome change.

My hands grip the steering wheel, but my mind drifts, replaying images of Kip’s striking face. That charming smile, those playful eyes that seemed to see right through me at the gas station. A shiver runs down my spine as I recall the energy crackling between us.

No. I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. Men are nothing but trouble. A lesson I’ve learned the hard way, etched into my heart with jagged scars. I can’t afford to let my guard down, to be drawn in by a handsome face and easy charm.

But even as I chastise myself, I can’t deny the flutter in my chest.

A whine from the passenger seat jolts me back to the present. I glance over at Shadow, his dark eyes peering up at me, head cocked in confusion.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I murmur, reaching over to scratch behind his ears. “Got a bit lost in my own head there.”

Shadow leans into my touch, his tail thumping against the seat. But the restless shifting of his paws tells me he’s growing antsy, eager to stretch his legs after being cooped up in the car for hours.

I scan the road ahead, searching for a place to stop. A green sign catches my eye, announcing a park just a mile ahead. Perfect.

“What do you say we take a little break, huh?” I ask Shadow, my voice brightening. “Get some fresh air, clear our minds?”

At the word “break,” Shadow perks up, his ears pricking forward. He lets out an excited bark, as if to say, “Finally!”

I can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. It’s the little things, isn’t it? The simple joys of a car ride, a walk in the park. If only I could approach life with the same unbridled eagerness.

I signal and turn into the park entrance, gravel crunching beneath the tires. As I pull into a spot near the dog run, Shadow is practically vibrating with anticipation, his nose pressed against the window.

“Alright, alright,” I laugh, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Let’s go, you big goofball.”

The moment I open the passenger door, Shadow bounds out, his leash trailing behind him. I barely have time to grab it before he’s off, tugging me toward the grassy field.

We meander towards the dog area, Shadow’s tail wagging furiously as he takes in the sights and smells. The sound of barking and playful yips fills the air, a canine symphony that seems to energize him even more.

As we approach the fenced enclosure, I spot an empty bench beneath a sprawling oak tree, its branches offering a welcome respite from the sun. Shadow tugs impatiently at the leash, eager to join the fray.

“Go on then,” I chuckle, unclipping his leash. “Go make some friends.”

In a blur of black fur, Shadow takes off, bounding towards a group of dogs chasing a ball. I watch as he seamlessly integrates himself into their game, his exuberance matched only by his speed.

With a contented sigh, I settle onto the bench, the rough wood warm against my skin. I lean back, closing my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun wash over me. For a brief moment, I allow myself to just be, to exist in this pocket of tranquility, untethered from the weight of my past and the uncertainty of my future.

The vibration of my phone in my pocket shatters the illusion. With a grimace, I fish it out, steeling myself for the inevitable barrage of notifications.

Missed calls. Voicemails. Texts. All from Mom and Lila.

Mom: Where are you?

Lila: Ayla, please call me back.

Lila: We’re worried about you.

Each message feels like a tiny dart, pricking at the fragile bubble of peace I’ve constructed. The familiar pressure of their expectations, their concern, bears down on me, a suffocating weight I can never seem to escape. If I don’t leave now and stay gone I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, my fingers tightening around the phone. It would be so easy to call them back, to assuage their worries, to fall back into the role of the dutiful daughter.

But I can’t. Not now. Not ever.

With a resolute sigh, I silence my phone and tuck it back into my pocket. Today, I choose me.

I watch Shadow play, his unbridled joy a balm to my weary soul. And for now, that’s enough. It has to be.

A distant cry pierces the air, drawing my attention away from Shadow’s antics. It’s a sound I know all too well, one that tugs at my heartstrings and stirs a deep, primal instinct within me.

A baby’s cry.

I scan the park, my eyes searching for the source of the distress. It doesn’t take long to spot it—a lone stroller, parked under a nearby tree, its occupant wailing with increasing urgency.

I frown, a knot of unease forming in my stomach. Where are the parents? Who would leave their child unattended like this?

Before I can second-guess myself, I’m on my feet, striding towards the stroller with purposeful steps. As I draw closer, the cries intensify, each wail a piercing arrow straight to my heart. I quicken my pace, my protective instincts surging to the forefront.

“Hey there, peach,” I coo softly as I reach the stroller, my voice instinctively shifting to a soothing timbre. “What’s got you so upset, huh?”

I peek into the stroller, my heart clenching at the sight of the tiny, scrunched-up face, red and blotchy from crying. The baby can’t be more than a few months old, swaddled in a soft yellow blanket that has come loose in their distress.

I glance around once more, hoping to spot a frazzled parent hurrying back to their child. But the area remains deserted, save for a few distant figures lost in their own worlds.

My hands twitch at my sides, itching to scoop up the wailing infant and offer comfort. It’s a desire I’ve always harbored, an innate need to nurture and protect. But the rational part of my brain holds me back, whispering cautions about overstepping boundaries and inviting trouble.

Still, I can’t just walk away. Not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do something, to help in any way I can.

Biting my lip, I reach out a tentative hand, gently rocking the stroller in hopes of calming the baby. “Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur, keeping my voice low and soothing. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

The baby’s cries begin to subside, little hiccups and sniffles replacing the heart-wrenching wails. Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as I realize the child’s parents are still nowhere to be seen.

I can’t just leave the baby here, unattended and vulnerable. My mind races, weighing the potential consequences of my next actions. But the overwhelming need to ensure the child’s safety trumps any hesitation.

With a deep breath, I carefully lift the baby from the stroller, cradling the tiny form against my chest. The weight of the child in my arms feels natural, as if I was meant to hold and protect this little life.

“There we go,” I whisper, gently bouncing the baby. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

As I lose myself in the moment, marveling at the baby’s delicate features and the way their tiny hand curls around my finger, I almost miss the sound of rapid footsteps approaching.

“Piper!” a deep, frantic voice calls out, startling me from my reverie.

I turn to see a man rushing towards us, his handsome face etched with worry and relief. His dark hair is disheveled, and his clothes are slightly rumpled, as if he’s been running. And his eyes…? They look tired.

“Oh my god, thank you,” he breathes, coming to a stop before me. “I’m so sorry. I just closed my eyes for a second, and the stroller must have rolled away.”

His words tumble out in a rush, his eyes darting between the baby in my arms and my face. I can see the genuine gratitude and contrition in his gaze, and my heart goes out to him.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, offering a small smile. “I understand. I’m just glad I was here to help.”

I carefully transfer the baby back into her father’s waiting arms. As he cradles her close, I introduce myself. “I’m Ayla, by the way.”

He looks up at me, his deep brown eyes capturing mine. “Clay,” he replies, a tired smile gracing his lips. “I can’t thank you enough, Ayla. I’ve been up all night with this little one, and I guess the exhaustion caught up with me.”

I nod in understanding, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the weariness in his posture.

He adjusts Piper in his arms, his touch gentle and sure. “You know, you have a real gift with babies. Piper usually doesn’t calm down that quickly with strangers.”

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at his praise, a warmth spreading through my chest. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I demur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve just always had a way with kids, I guess.”

Clay’s eyes linger on mine, a flicker of something deeper passing between us. The air seems to crackle with a sudden tension, an unspoken connection that catches me off guard.

I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “Well, I should probably get going. I’m glad I could help.”

As I turn to leave, Clay’s voice stops me. “Wait, Ayla.”

I glance back, my heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze.

“I know this might sound crazy,” he begins, his words laced with nervous energy, “but would you consider being Piper’s nanny?”

The question comes as a shock to me.

His unexpected proposition hangs in the air between us, and I find myself at a loss for words.

There’s no way he’s serious right? No way that a complete stranger would ask me to be their child’s nanny after a short conversation.