24. Sebastian

Chapter 24

Sebastian

I woke up to a raging headache, a missing truck, the Porsche in the driveway, and a text on my phone that made me want to vomit and scream at the same time.

Nelly: I quit. I’m sorry.

How the fuck had it descended into this?

I stood on the front porch, the sun just barely poking up above the houses, the harsh morning rays practically blinding me. Matty would be up soon, and I’d have to either tell him that Nelly wouldn’t be taking him to school this morning or ever again, or come up with some kind of excuse for her absence.

I’d already checked the guesthouse. Either she’d spent the time yesterday morning packing up already geared up for this, or she’d made a last-minute decision in the middle of the night and loaded up her truck while I slept horribly upstairs. Neither of those options was particularly comforting.

The spot where her truck had been parked was empty, nothing but a small oil stain beneath it to prove it was ever there. Part of me, the part that was still refusing to believe the current situation was even happening, was concerned about her driving that thing anywhere . I worried she’d broken down on the way to wherever she was going, whether that was her apartment or Rosie’s or anywhere else. My texts to her had gone unanswered, and all I could do was hope that she was fine.

I just didn’t understand it. Any of it.

I knew I hadn’t been a nice person to be around, especially at the rink after the game and some of the time between then and now, but I’d hoped that my ability to let her go last night without question would have shown that I trusted her and wanted her to be able to get space if that's what she’d needed, even if it had felt like a jab when she’d said she was going to Smokey’s. I’d already made missteps and mistakes in my attempts to keep her closer and work through it, but apparently, I’d fucked up again, and distance was exactly what she needed to cut ties.

It felt like there were no right steps. It felt like the eggshells were the very foundation beneath our feet, and I had no choice but to step on them.

And maybe that was why she’d quit. Maybe she saw that too and couldn’t handle it. But if we’d have just talked, if I could have just apologized and sat her down and told her that I understood why she was angry with me, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Or maybe if I hadn’t let my anger get the best of me in the first place.

I forced myself to go back inside, to get on with the morning in the only way I knew how — routine. So, I put the coffee on, I picked out cereal for Matty, I turned on the television to his favorite channel so that when he eventually woke up and made his way downstairs before I needed to get him ready for school, he wouldn’t immediately notice the lack of something major. But I couldn’t help but stare at the fucking picture he drew that I’d hung on the fridge, couldn’t help but want to ball it up and throw it in the garbage or set it on fire and watch as it turned to ash. But I couldn’t do that to him.

He was old enough now. He’d remember this. He’d remember Nelly. It had only been a few months, but they were impactful — she’d done more than any nanny I’d hired. She’d slotted in seamlessly and practically taken him in as her own. She’d dealt with midnight nightmares, she’d dealt with tantrums, she’d dealt with school days and game nights and away games. She’d been there on her days off, been present at every turn, been accommodating to last-minute changes. She’d turned into a mother figure for him, and her disappearance would no doubt hit harder than the loss of any other nanny I’d hired. It would hit harder than Taryn leaving.

He was so young when she’d gone, and I doubted he even remembered much of her showing up for his birthday the year before last. And the last nanny, the one who had tried to take one of my Rolexes, had been difficult enough for him to come to terms with. How the fuck was he going to be okay with this?

How was I going to be okay with this?

It would have been so much easier if she had been terrible in some way. If she’d stolen from me, if she’d been a flame in disguise, if she’d been horrible to Matty, or if she’d fought with me for things that weren’t for Matty’s benefit. But that wasn’t the case. I was losing—no, I had lost—someone that I was genuinely over the moon to have looking after my son. I had lost someone that I wanted to spend time with, someone I wanted to know better, someone I’d struggled to push from my mind. Someone I didn’t want to go away.

I’d fucked it up. All of it. And I needed to fix it, somehow, someway. Any way.

So, when Matty came down the stairs rubbing his little eyes and clutching the stuffed manta ray, I held my tongue. When he asked me where Nelly was, I told him she had to go away for a little bit. When he asked me when she’d be back, I told him honestly — I don’t know. And when his little blue eyes had filled with tears as I squatted beside him, I’d bit back my own and wrapped him up in my arms.

No matter the outcome of this, I would have to be fine. I could be fine. I’d done it time and time again with every other nanny.

I just didn’t feel for any of them what I felt for her.