Page 50 of Military Daddies' Nanny

And now that the real deal has resurfaced...what place can I possibly have here? Moisture stings my eyes, but I blink it back furiously. I will not fall apart again, not where they can see. Squaring my shoulders, I nod once in acknowledgment.

"I understand."

The confusion is evident in the creases fanning out from the corners of his eyes. "Nancy..."

But I can't bear his stuttered reassurances, his stilted apologies. I need to get out, before the dam well and truly bursts.

To his credit, Drew doesn't try to stop me when I turn on my heel and flee out the front door, leaving slivers of my bruised heart littering the foyer behind me.

I make it three blocks from the house before the first tear spills over, quickly followed by a second, and then a third. And then I'm sobbing in earnest, great gasping hiccups that shake my entire frame as I stumble down the deserted sidewalk. My purse falls from my limp fingers, handbag contents scattering across the concrete.

How could I have been so stupid? Playing house with three gorgeous men, allowing myself to picture a future with them...of course it couldn't last.Stories like that only exist in cheap paperbacks, not in the real world.

Heedless of my surroundings, I fumble my phone from where it landed, stabbing the first contact in my favorites list with blurred vision.

"Jamie? It’s me," I manage when she answers, voice mangled beyond recognition. "I...you were right. I never should have...God, what was I thinking?"

"Nancy? Honey, what's wrong?" Her voice sharpens with concern. "Where are you?"

"J-just on the corner past Drew's house. I can't…I need you to come over. Please…" I’d already told her Drew’s address before taking this job as a security measure just in case.

"Okay," Jamie responds calmly, switching into crisis mode. "Okay, stay right there. I'll come get you."

The call ends, leaving an eerie silence in its wake, save for the harsh cadence of my own panting breaths, ragged and uneven. A car horn blares somewhere close by, like an anguished cry cutting through the stillness.

Dimly I'm aware of sinking to my knees on the cracked pavement, of cradling my head in my hands as wave after wave of agony crashes over me.

My core fractures from the inside out, ribs splintering and lungs contracting painfully until blackness begins to creep acrossmy vision. I gasp like a drowning woman, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the unyielding concrete beneath me.

How could this be happening? Just this morning, everything had been perfect—waking up tangled in Drew's arms, having breakfast with everyone...

And now, not even twelve hours later, that beautiful dream lies shattered at my feet. Because of course, it was too good to be true. Of course reality would inevitably come crashing back in, undoing every stitch of happiness I'd managed to weave.

Sobs wrack my frame anew as memories assault me, flashes of tender moments, heated glances, whispered endearments. Was it all a lie? Just meaningless physical comfort for four lonely souls, nothing more?

No. Some part of me rejects that notion, even through the heartache. What we shared; it was real. I knew it down to my marrow. They loved me, in their own ways...they just didn't love me enough.

The thought punches the air from my lungs in one harsh exhalation. My chest constricts. I can't breathe, I can't—

"Nancy! Oh my god, Nancy!"

Familiar arms are around me, hauling me upright. Jamie's panicked face swims into view, pale and pinched. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

I try to respond, but my voice emerges as little more than a garbled croak. Black tendrils creep across the edges of my sight as the world tilts on its axis.

And then there is only blessed oblivion.

Chapter 19

Nathan

The thrum of power tools greets me as I pull into the driveway, signaling that Carlos must already be here working on one of his projects. Gripping my battered briefcase, I head inside, thoughts already drifting to the schematics I'd been poring over earlier. If I can just tweak the—

My mental calculations grind to a halt the second I step through the front door. Because there, sitting on the couch in our living room with the kids, is a familiar blonde head that definitely doesn't belong to Nancy.

My heart stutters as the woman looks up, her hazel eyes—so reminiscent of Bella's—finding mine. It can't be. After all this time.

"Karen," I say flatly, the name falling like a lead weight from my tongue.

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