Page 31 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

Her brows knit together, confusion flashing across her face before it shifts to something else—something harder. “You want me to leave?”

“No, it’s not like that,” I say quickly, but I can already see the hurt settling in, the way her shoulders stiffen as she steps back. “I just… I thought you might need some time for yourself. Away from all this.”

“Away from what, Jack? You mean away from you?” she snaps, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger. “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

I take a step closer, trying to reach out, but she moves away, shaking her head. “Sonya, that’s not what I meant. I just thought—”

“You thought what?” she cuts in, her voice rising. “That I need space? That I can’t handle this? You’re the one who’s been pulling away, Jack. You’re the one who keeps acting like I’m some kind of burden.”

“That’s not fair,” I protest, but she’s already on a roll.

“You know what’s not fair? You pushing me away every time things get a little beyond surface level between us all in the name ofprotecting me. You don’t get to make decisions for me, Jack. You don’t get to tell me what’s in my best interest.”

Her words hit hard, but I can’t find the right response. She’s right. I’ve been pushing her away because I’m scared of what this all means. Of what happens when she leaves and takes everything good with her. But saying that out loud feels like admitting defeat, and I’m not ready for that. Not yet.

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for you,” I say weakly, but it sounds hollow even to my own ears.

Sonya scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t do me any favors, Jack. I’ve been taking care of myself long before you showed up. I don’t need you to decide what’s best for me.”

I watch her, and my frustration bubbles as she turns away. “Dammit, Sonya, I’m just trying to help!”

She spins back to face me, and her grey eyes are blazing. “Help? You want to help? Then stop treating me like I’m some fragile thing that’s going to break! I’m here because I want to be, not because I need saving. And if you can’t handle that, then maybe you’re the one who needs a break.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and unyielding, and I’m left standing there, grasping at the frayed edges of my temper. I don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to bridge the gap between what I’m trying to say and what she’s hearing. All I know is that the more I try, the angrier she gets, and it’s tearing me apart.

“Sonya, that’s not what I—” I start, but she cuts me off, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion.

“Do you know how it feels, Jack? To be treated like you’re some kind of charity case? Like you’re not good enough, strong enough, to handle your own life?” She takes a step closer, and I can see the hurt in her eyes, the pain I’ve caused without even realizing it. “I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need you to decide when I need a break or when I should leave. I’m not some project you can fix.”

Her words slam into me like a freight train, and I’m left reeling, struggling to find my footing. “I never thought of you that way,” I protest weakly, but even as I say it, I know it’s not enough. It’s not even true, not entirely. Because the truth is, I have been trying to protect her, trying to shield her from the mess that is my life. And in doing so, I’ve only made things worse.

“Then why are you doing this?” she demands, her voice rising with frustration. “Why are you pushing me away everytime we get close? Every time it feels like we’re getting somewhere, you throw up a wall, and I’m left standing on the outside, wondering what the hell I did wrong.”

Her words cut deep, slicing through the layers of guilt and fear I’ve been hiding behind. She’s right. I’ve been pushing her away, not because she’s not enough, but because I’m scared that I’m not. That I’ll never be enough for her, for Fiona, for anyone. But I can’t say that. I can’t admit that to her, because if I do, it’ll be real. And I’m not sure I can handle that.

“I’m trying to protect you,” I say again. Because I don’t know what else to say.

“From what?” she shoots back. “From yourself? From me? Because that’s what it feels like, Jack. Like you’re more afraid of what we could be than anything else.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell her she’s wrong, but the words stick in my throat. Because she’s not wrong. Not entirely. I am scared—scared of what this is, of what it could mean if I let myself fall, if I let her in. But the thing is, I’m already falling, and I don’t know how to stop.

“Sonya,” I start, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I’m trying to hold back. “I—”

“Save it, Jack,” she interrupts, her voice cold and final. “I’ve heard enough. You don’t want me here? Fine. I’ll go.”

My heart lurches in my chest, panic flaring up like a wildfire. “No, that’s not what I want,” I say quickly, but she’s already turning away, heading for the door.

“Too late,” she says over her shoulder. “I’ll send someone to pick up my things.”

The door slams behind her, and the sound echoes through the house like a gunshot. I’m left standing in the livingroom with my heart pounding in my chest as the reality of what just happened crashes down on me. She’s gone. I pushed her too far, and now she’s gone.

I sink into a chair, dropping my head into my hands as I try to process what I’ve done. I’ve screwed up—royally. And I don’t know how to fix it. Hell, I don’t even know if I can fix it. The house feels empty without her, the silence stretching out like a chasm I can’t cross.

Fiona’s babbling pulls me out of my thoughts, and I force myself to get up, to go to her. I can’t fall apart, not with her here. She needs me, and I’ve already let one person down today. I won’t let it happen again.

But as I hold her close, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life. Sonya’s been more than just a nanny. She’s been a friend, a partner, someone who’s made this place feel like a home. And now, she’s gone, and I don’t know how to make it right.

I carry Fiona back to the chair, trying to focus on her, on the one good thing I haven’t completely ruined yet. But my mind keeps drifting back to Sonya, to the way she looked at me before she walked out. There was hurt there, yes, but there was something else too—something like resignation, like she expected this all along. And that thought kills me.

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