Page 67 of Military Daddies' Nanny

The words crawl up my throat, bitter and clinging like ash on my tongue. They burst free before I can rein them back.

"You were right earlier." My laugh is a cracked, reedy thing as I drag a hand down my face. "About the kids. About how excited we all were for you to come back and be part of their lives again."

I pause, swallowing hard as I struggle to meet Karen's steady, inscrutable gaze. "I think we all just got way ahead of ourselves. And in my case...I let that excitement blind me to way too much."

I expel a shuddery exhale, feeling the vice-like tension finally starting to ease from around my chest. Like I'm finally refilling my lungs after being trapped underwater.

"Jason and Bella…they grew up faster than any kids should've had to after you left. And as badly as I wanted to be enough for them, to give them that normal family experience..."

The words fracture, splintering on the jagged lump of guilt and self-reproach lodged in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut against the sudden burning pressure building there, ashamed at how they sting.

"I failed them pretty miserably in a lot of ways, Karen." The confession scorches like acid on an open wound. "I tried so damn hard, but at the end of the day...I'm just one person. It wasn’t until Nancy showed up and helped me that we got the ship back on course."

There's a hitch of indrawn breath from beside me, subtle enough that I nearly miss it over the sound of my own pulse thundering in my ears.

When I finally blink my eyes open, Karen is staring at me with an expression I can't quite parse. It’s mournful understanding and something darker and thornier, stirring beneath the surface.

"So that's what this was really about, then?" she asks, so softly I have to strain to make out the words. "Me trying to reprise the mother role for a family that had long moved on and found its own cadence again?"

The raw, naked pain in her voice lances straight through me, shearing away every last gossamer thread of delusion still clinging to me.

Because she's right. This whole ill-conceived reunion has essentially amounted to me forcing her into a mold she never could fit as we are now. It’s a role she couldn't hope to play believably even if she tried with every fiber of her being.

"I'm so sorry," I rasp. "Jesus, Karen. For what it’s worth, I really did think we could make it work."

She's silent for a long moment, processing. Then the dam breaks, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she reaches out and clasps my hand in a grip with the familiar, steadying weight of a distant warmth, almost forgotten.

"I don't need apologies, Drew," she whispers, voice thick and hoarse, and yet still managing to convey that unshakable strength that drew me to her so fiercely all those years ago. "We were just two lost souls for a while, trying to find our way back to something resembling home. I take full accountability for my role in that illusion, but you...when I showed up again, you were so determined to give this another go. And I wanted to believe in it just as badly as you did."

Her fingers tangle with mine, clasping firmly as her eyes bore into mine with intensity. "But it’s time to be honest with ourselves.” She waves her hand around absently. “All of this, we tried. We had a good run. But that run has come to an end. Youhave given me way more than I deserve. More than I could have ever expected. Please, let that be good enough for you. Because it is for me.”

Smiling, she gets up, and walks slowly toward me. She plants a soft kiss on my forehead, the faint scent of spicey perfume wafting up to my nose. And then without another word, she turns and strides out of the room.

I watch her go, mourning what we lost. All the dreams and promises. They will die today, and I mourn that death. I feel something break inside me watching the door shut behind Karen for the last time.

And yet, deep beneath the murk in my heart, there’s a warmth blossoming through me. The lessening of a very heavy load. I feel free. Released. And I have just one priority right now. Finding Nancy.

Chapter 25

Nathan

It’s supposed to be just another ordinary, uneventful morning. I’ve just gotten the morning paper, and I’m stretching out on the couch, a steaming mug of coffee balanced in my other hand.

I’m halfway through a deep sigh of satisfaction when the noise starts. The harsh rap of knuckles against the apartment door makes me look up in confusion.

Ever since Carlos and I started staying over at Nancy’s house, we haven’t had any visitors so it’s a little surprising to hear the sound of knuckles against wood.

I exchange a loaded look with Carlos who has just stepped into the living room. His expression mirrors the curious one undoubtedly splashed across my own features.

There’s one person we do hope to see at the door, though.

We've been taking care of Nancy, ensuring she wants for nothing as her pregnancy progresses. But the looming question hanging over all of us has been the agonizing question of whether—or when—we finally break down and tell Drew the truth he remains oblivious to.

Nancy's wishes to keep him in the dark have stayed our tongues so far. But every day that passes feels like another lead weight strapped to our shoulders, burdening us with this monumental secret he deserves to know.

Maybe that's why I can't quite stifle the flicker of desperate hope blooming in my chest as I cross the room and carefully pull open the door. Because there, framed in the hallway, looking utterly disheveled and wild around the eyes, stands my brother himself.

"Drew," I breathe out. I’m both surprised and relieved. I had been hoping, but I hadn’t expected it would really be him.

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