13. Dylan

13

DYLAN

I knew it wasn't fair of me, but I didn't really care. Jessica had lied. She knew Ryan. She should have told me sooner. I left her to take care of Max, to do her job. I needed space to think. Why was it bothering me so much? Why did I care? Was I angry because she'd had an affair with him before I ever knew who she was? Or was it because they both had lied to me about knowing each other?

Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I was caught up short when I saw Mother. "What are you doing?" I asked.

She was out of her room and leaning heavily on her cane. With each slow step, I winced, taking on her pain.

"I'm taking a walk," she said. Her voice sounded a bit shaky but extremely determined. "I thought that would be obvious."

"Where is Clara?" I demanded.

I heard her indignant huff before I saw her. "Do you honestly think I would let her out and about without being nearby?"

I chuckled bitterly. "My mother does what she wants."

"You are most right there, Mr. Anderson," Clara said. I even caught a rare glimpse of a grin on her sour face.

Mother waved me over. "Come here, Dylan, give me your arm. Clara, you can go have a rest. Dylan will keep me from falling and see me back to my rooms."

"Mrs.—"

"Let me have some privacy with my son," Mother cut her off.

I stepped in close and held out my elbow. Mom looped her hand through and gripped tightly. She leaned a bit heavily on me. All things considered, she was frail and there wasn't that much mass to her. We walked slowly, Mother concentrating on foot placement. Her weight tugged on my arm every few steps. It took several minutes to walk just a few yards.

"Do your doctors know you are doing this?"

"Who do you think told me to get up and walk? My endocrinologist and the cardiologist both want me to get a thousand steps a day."

"A thousand?" That didn't seem like very much to me, but for her it was probably quite a bit. "How do you track your thousand steps?"

She held up her wrist, showing me her smart watch. I nodded. That made sense.

"How many steps do you take in a day?" she asked me.

I laughed. "I don't track steps. Sarah at the office is obsessed with them. She tries to get in ten thousand a day."

"That's quite a bit. Five miles. I used to be able to do that. It's been a long time, though," she said.

"Dylan, darling, what's troubling you?" she inquired, her voice soft but insistent.

How did she know? I sighed heavily, taking the next slow step, I rubbed my free hand over my face. "It's Jessica. She… she told me about her past with Ryan," I confessed, the words heavy on my tongue.

"Do I know this Ryan?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, I haven't introduced you. I don't think so. He's been to the house. I've known him for years, from my Boston days. He's made a proposal for a development partnership."

"Sounds like someone you would work with. What's the problem? Why does it bother you that Jessica also knows him?"

"They were together," I said sharply.

"Dylan, you are going to have to give me more than these simple answers if you want me to understand. You are clearly upset. Why does it matter if the nanny has dated someone you are considering working with? She is an adult, and you are acting like a jealous lover."

I grimaced. Jessica asked me not to say anything, but if I were to trust Mother, she would have to know.

"So, you have feelings for the nanny? And you got angry when she told you she knew that man?"

"There's nothing wrong with your brain," I muttered.

"It's my body that is problematic. My brain is fine. So, you have feelings for her? Good. I like her. But that doesn't explain all of this." She waved a finger in my face.

"All of what?" I asked.

"Your scowl. You are positively grumpy."

I harrumphed. "She said she didn't know him at first. And then she told me she had a relationship with him, and now she doesn't like him." I left off the part where she said she was afraid of him.

My mother's brow furrowed in understanding, her gaze never wavering from mine. "And how do you feel about that?" she prompted gently. "Not everyone gets along with the people from past relationships. She's not a child, and I'm not so old that I don't know that relationships can burn out and turn sour. I do know she hasn't been here that long, so whatever it is between the two of you is new, and so your emotions are on edge."

I hesitated, grappling with the confusion of emotions raging within me. "I don't know, Mother. It's like… like I'm caught between what I know and what I feel," I admitted, frustration lacing my words.

Mother reached out, taking my hand in hers with a comforting squeeze. "You're overthinking this. Dylan, my dear boy, sometimes the heart sees what the eyes cannot. Trust in your feelings. Trust in Jessica," she urged, her voice filled with conviction. "Love is not always rational, but it is always worth fighting for."

"No one said anything about love," I bit out, maybe a little too fast.

But her words resonated deep within me, stirring something primal and profound. I nodded slowly, a sense of clarity dawning upon me. "You're right, Mother. I need to trust Jessica, trust myself," I affirmed, determination coursing through my veins.

Jessica's opinion about her ex-boyfriend didn't need to have any bearing on my business dealings with the man. There was no reason for them to ever be in the same place at the same time. He was work. She was home.

Warmth spread through my chest at that thought. Jessica was home. I hadn't ever felt that before. Mother was family. Max was my very existence. And Jessica was home. I wanted to be home for her as well. I wanted to be where she turned for safety and comfort. I wasn't living up to that very well.

My mother smiled, her eyes shimmering. "Now, go to her before she quits and you regret your words."

"Let's get you back to your rooms, and then I'll head upstairs," I said, patting her hand as she held onto my arm.

"I can make it back on my own."

"Not without Clara, and you dismissed her."

"Clara!" Mother called out.

"Yes? Are you ready to go back?" Clara popped out of nowhere.

"She never listens when I tell her to go away. Always vigilant. Now, go talk to Jessica before she leaves."

"Thank you, Mom. I love you," I said, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek before heading upstairs in search of Jessica.

Jessica stood in the nursery, her features etched with determination as she folded clothes with practiced efficiency. A suitcase lay open at her feet. The pale afternoon light filtered through the window, casting a cool glow around her. She looked up as I entered, her gaze a mixture of apprehension and resignation.

I swallowed hard, my chest heavy with conflicting emotions. Her confession about Ryan had shaken me to the core, stirring up a storm of doubts and insecurities I never knew I harbored. But even amid the chaos of my thoughts, one thing remained clear—my feelings for Jessica were undeniable, irrevocable.

The sight of her preparing to leave sent a pang of sorrow through my chest, but I refused to let her slip away without a fight.

"Jessica," I said, my voice barely a whisper, "please don't go."

She paused, her fingers stilling on the fabric she held. "Dylan," she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness. "You don't want me here, not after what I've told you. You made that pretty clear. I understand if you need time to process everything, and I should call the placement agency."

I closed the distance between us, my heart pounding with every step. "No, Jessica, you don't understand," I insisted, reaching out to gently cup her face in my hands. "Yes, what you told me about your past, it threw me off balance. But it doesn't change how I feel about you."

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she searched my gaze, seeking reassurance, understanding. "I don't want to cause any complications for you, especially with your business dealings. And I know this is going to influence your decisions."

I shook my head, my thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek. "Jessica, you are not a complication. You're… you could be everything to me," I confessed, my voice raw with emotion. "And that's intense. And as for Ryan, well, I trust you. I trust your judgment, your intentions. If he wants to bad mouth you or try to convince me that you're?—"

She put her fingers over my mouth. "I don't want to talk about Ryan. He is from my past, and I really would like to leave him there. I didn't tell you right away because I wasn't certain whether I should. And then he made threats, said he would ruin whatever life I tried to have. I was too scared to say anything. I need this job. I don't want to mess it up."

"You need the job? This is all about your job?"

"No," she said. She stopped folding the clothes and her shoulders dropped. "Until last night, yes, it's been about keeping my job. I'm not gonna lie when I say last night was amazing and wonderful and scary."

"Scary? What we did was scary?" I asked.

"What we did was great. The implications are scary. Dylan, I slept with you, and you're my boss. You have to be aware of the implications of that. I've made that mistake before, and it was a mistake. A huge mistake. I had to change everything about my life, the kind of work I do, where I live. And so yeah, maybe I didn't tell you when the man who ruined my life showed up in your kitchen."

"Are you saying sleeping with me was another mistake?" That familiar tightening of anger in my chest was back.

"I don't want it to be. I don't want what's happening between us to be a mistake. I want it to be something wonderful."

The tightening in my chest evaporated. I leaned down and claimed her lips. Together, we were something wonderful.