Page 23 of Nanny for the Firefighter

“You’re telling me. I’m glad that those two aren’t together anymore. I never liked Jai, but I wish that she didn’t feel so lost when it was over. She could have come home and talked. Hestole more years of her life away than just the two they were together, you know?”

The snort that comes out is all agreement. “Yeah. I hear that. But hey, I need to get back to work so that I can leave the office at a decent time tonight. Talk soon?”

“Sounds good, buddy. Swing by for dinner one of these nights. Or we can grab a drink just us.”

I nod to myself. “That sounds like a good idea, Hudson. Text me a good time. Talk later.”

“Bye.”

Shocked is not how I’d describe my reaction to learning that Jai and Bridget did, in fact, break up. I had a feeling, but what is with this traveling the country to find herself thing?

That doesn’t sound like the Bridget I know. She likes to settle into a place and go to her same favorite spots over and over again.

At least…she did.

Stillness fills the office, and I sit there in the quiet for several minutes before my curiosity finally gets the better of me.

Swinging my legs beneath my desk again, I pull up the internet on my computer and navigate to the security system website I use for the house.

It’s easy to pull up the feeds of each camera, and I check in the living room first.

Mia and Bridget aren’t there, but there are several other places they could be.Not in the kitchen, not in her room…

I stop on the camera to the playroom at the top of the stairs, my chest squeezing as I see them. Bridget and Mia are sitting in the middle of the floor on a blanket that’s been spread out, having tea.

Well, fake tea that I hope is actually just water based on how many times Mia has spilled her cup or over-poured from the plastic teapot.

They look like they’ve found Mia’s dress-up box as well, Mia wearing a little crown and Bridget wearing a hat that doesnotfit her in the slightest.

Mia and Bridget look completely at ease with each other, enjoying their tiny tea party with special clothes and several stuffed animal guests.

I’m warmed through to my core seeing how happy Mia looks, and a gratitude so profound swells through me at how good I can tell Bridget is being with my daughter.

And then there’s the inevitable drop.

I’m not there with her. Her mother isn’t there with her.

The guilt is familiar but still stings. I know I’m doing everything in my power to give Mia the best life possible and I try to be with her as much as physically possible.

That voice in my head doesn’t care, though. It just thinks I’m failing as a father and should have found a way to give Mia a mother.

Useless frustration and anger boil through my blood, remembering how I demanded the doctor do more to save Jess.

But there was nothing to be done. She’d torn internally during the C-section delivery, and the bleeding happened too fast and too severely.

I never saw her out of that hospital room again.

Swallowing hard, I look back at the screen again. Mia is clearly laughing, and Bridget is smiling right back at her. After a moment, Mia thrusts her hand out and pretends to “freeze” Bridget, who acts the part beautifully.

More laughter and spilled plastic tea cups as Mia unfreezes Bridget and then runs off, her new nanny chasing her down the hallway with booming, exaggerated steps.

I laugh at the adorable sight, sighing. “They look so happy.”

My emotions rise high, and my brain starts to churn up ideas that are absolutely out of the question. Bridget is the nanny. Nothing more.

But I can’t find it in me to close the program. I just watch the two of them play, smiling, until a notification of a new email pops up on my computer.

I’m so fucking distracted by all this, and it’s not good.

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