Page 51 of The Nanny Goal

And all of that made her justifiably mad.

I think of how my mother sometimes yells at my father when he frustrates her.

I would give anything for everything to be different, for us to be in a place where Emery could lose her shit at me, to trust that our relationship was rock solid enough for her to snap and know it’ll be okay.

Like a toddler having a tantrum.

Another unexpected lesson I’ve learned as a parent—we are at our best, and our worst, with those we trust the most.

Nobody else gets Inessa’s sweetest side. Her hugs and kisses, her sweet little worry when I’m in an ice bath, the way she curls up against me when I get home from a road trip, as if my heartbeat against her cheek is all she needs for the world to be right again.

Nobody else gets the worst of her tantrums, either, because she tries to be so good for everyone else. But me? She knows I will always love her, no matter what, and so it’s with me she can truly fall apart.

Toddlers need to fall apart more often than one might think. They’re little powder kegs of learning new things, getting frustrated, not understanding why they can’t say what they need yet…

And they aren’t alone in that. Grown-ups have powder keg emotions sometimes, too.

I’m reminded of how I started to cry in the kitchen yesterday—and the grace Emery gave me.

“Speed up, old man,” she yells as she zooms by.

I swing my stick out and tap her ass. “I was just thinking about how nice you are,” I holler back.

She laughs and tightens up her circle, spiralling around me now.

I stop skating and switch into some side-to-side drills, opening up my hips as I drive to a hard stop to the left, then to the right.

Emery matches my shift in pace and finds a puck to do some tricks with. “When was I nice to you?”

“You taught me to appreciate asparagus.”

She trips over her feet as she reacts—“Alexei!”—but catches herself and keeps skating.

I’m undeterred. “Does Zondi like asparagus?”

“Stop.”

“I don’t think I will.”

She flicks a puck at me, thumping it hard off my left pad. “He’s just a friend.”

“And Rusty?”

“He’sin love with Shannon. You know that. Has been since forever.”

“I know you have dated a lot of people, Emery. I accept that. But?—”

She comes to a sharp, ice-spraying stop in front of me. “Butwhat? Youacceptit? My dating life is none of your business.”

“Iknow.” I’m a foot taller than she is, and I use every inch of it to glare down at her. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about asparagus.”

“Nobody knows about that night,” she says quietly. “If you’re going to act like a jealous asshole, people will ask questions.”

Fuck. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I could tell.”

“It’s just that…You were not experienced when we were together. I cherished?—”

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