Page 53 of Protecting My Nanny

"Now that's a plan," Gladys says. "A nice walk, some shopping, lunch by the water—it sounds like the perfect day." I nod, feeling more confident.

"Yeah, I think she'd enjoy that," I say, relieved. "Gladys, you go enjoy your shows, and let me get breakfast going."

"Let me know how things go. Bye, Shane."

"Bye, Gladys."

I survey the counter loaded with ingredients, utensils, and the pan with the blue handle. "Where do I even start?" I mutter to myself, feeling a little overwhelmed. I set my tablet on the counter, shamelessly pulling up a recipe for scrambled eggs.

I want this breakfast to lift Nicole's spirits, but deep down, I know my cooking might not be enough to pull her out of the dark place she's been in lately. A small part of me worries it could even backfire—what if she's not in the mood? What if this feels forced? I push those thoughts aside, hoping, at the very least, she'll get a laugh out of my effort. But I hesitate before starting. Maybe it's better to have a watchful eye. I decide to wait until Nicole is awake before firing up the stove.

I sit at the kitchen counter with my tablet and watch sports highlights, glancing at the clock. Nicole usually wakes up around 8 on Saturdays, and I figure I can use the next hour as some rare "me" time. Jaime's upstairs, occupied with cartoons, and the house feels calm, just the quiet hum of the day beginning.

It's 8:30 when I realize Nicole's alarm hasn't gone off yet. Usually, by now, she's downstairs making coffee or reading in the nook by the window. Just as that thought crosses my mind, I hear Jaime coming downstairs and into the kitchen, Buddy trotting at his side.

"Good morning, Jaime," I say, pushing away my worry.

"Good morning, Uncle Shane," he replies, his eyes lighting up as he notices the food laid out. "Are you going to cook?" He sounds surprised, almost like he doesn't believe it.

"Yeah," I say with a grin. "I'm going to give it a shot. How hard can it be? You want to help, little chef?"

Jaime looks at me, then at the ingredients, and his small face scrunches with doubt. "I think we should wait for Nicole," he suggests.

I laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'm gonna take Buddy out," he says, already heading for the door, the leash in his hand.

With Jaime preoccupied, I decide to check on Nicole. I don't want to wake her, especially knowing how restless she's been lately, but something feels off. I knock on her bedroom door softly, calling her name once. Twice. No response.

As I push the door open, a wave of unease rolls through me. The sight that greets me hits me like a punch in the gut. Once filled with life and vibrancy, her room now appears empty and lifeless. It looks exactly as it did the day I showed it to her. The perfumes and lotions that used to clutter the dresser, the jackets that hung from the coat rack, her shoes, her clothes—everything is gone. It's as if she never existed.

My heart drops into my stomach. I start scanning the room, trying to understand what I'm seeing. It's all stripped clean of presence but for one thing—a white envelope placed neatly on her pillow, standing out like a ghost in the room. I ignore it at first, checking the closet and the bathroom. I'm hoping to findone sign of her, something she may have left, some sign she's coming back. But it's all gone; she's gone.

"There's nothing," I whisper, a numbness creeping over me as the realization hits. My hands shake as I finally walk over to the bed and pick up the letter, a sense of dread building in my chest. The envelope is addressed to Jaime, written in her familiar handwriting.

"Nicole?" Jaime's voice drifts up from downstairs. "Uncle Shane? I'm super duper hungry now!" he calls out, his tone light and joking, oblivious to the situation.

"Just a minute, bud," I call back, my voice tight. "Watch some cartoons on the couch, okay?"

There's a long, exaggerated sigh from Jaime. "Okay," he says, the sound of the TV clicking on faint in the background.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I tear open the envelope. Inside, there's a note. Her handwriting is shaky but legible, and as I read it, the room seems to spin around me. I read it once. Twice. Enough times to remember it by heart and for my body to go cold. The letter is simple, apologetic, but final.

I feel my emotions threatening to break through the surface for the first time in years. I can't believe this. After everything... she's gone. But before I can let the tears come, Jaime calls from downstairs again, pulling me back to reality. The note crumples slightly in my trembling hand as I sit there, frozen.

I head downstairs, feeling the weight of Nicole's absence in every nerve in my body. I feel heavy and lightheaded all at once. My mind is racing, trying to grasp the reality of her departure, but I push those thoughts away for Jaime's sake. He doesn't need to see me unraveling. Not now. I gather the ingredients for breakfast, but my hands feel clumsy.

"Finally," Jaime says with a sigh of relief as he plops down at the kitchen table. "Where's Nicole, Uncle Shane?"

The question stops me in my tracks. I feel a wave of emotion rise, but I still hold back. I clear my throat, forcing myself to speak calmly. "She had to go take care of some paperwork early this morning," I say, trying to sound casual as I keep my back turned to him. The lie tastes bitter as it comes out, but it's better than the truth. Better than telling him I don't know where she's gone or why she left us.

I move about the kitchen, making preparations. But I can't stop checking my phone, praying for a message from Nicole, and calling her nonstop. My desperation grows with every unanswered ring. As I crack an egg into the bowl, a sense of overwhelming difficulty washes over me. Cooking was already challenging, but now, with the weight of everything on my shoulders, it feels impossible. I turn to Jaime, mustering a forced smile.

"Hey, buddy, how about we grab breakfast from Frankie's and eat it on the ferry instead?"

Excitement radiates from Jaime as his eyes light up. "Yeah! That sounds awesome!" he says, practically bouncing in his seat. But then his face falls a little. "But what about Nicole?"

I hesitate. The emotions I've been pushing down threaten to spill out, but I hold them back. "Maybe she'll catch up with us later, bud. I can't promise, but... let's go have some fun in the meantime, okay?"

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