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“Why is that, Meadow?”
His question sounds like a provocation but I’m too dazed to understand or analyze why. I’m too dazed to even form an answer so when I don’t, he answers for me. “Maybe because I’m your boss.”
My heart thuds in my chest. “Yes.”
“And you don’t want to inconvenience me.”
“No,” I reply even though I have no idea what he’s saying.
He puts his hand on me then. On my cheek, tilting my neck up. “What a good little nanny you are.”
And now it’s even harder to focus. “I am…”
“The best nanny there ever was.”
“I think —”
“Although I will say that you have a flaw,” he tells me, his features tight and so, so possessive that they take my breath away.
“What flaw?”
“You lie too much.”
“I… don’t. I —”
“Just now when you told me that you were crying because of bad grades,” he whispers. “You never get bad grades and you don’t have a headache either. You were crying because you thought I wanted Tara. Isn’t that true, Meadow?”
I clutch his hand on my cheek. “I’m… I don’t…”
“And you lied to me that night too,” he continues. “You lied to me when you said that you know how to keep your professional and personal lives separate. You don’t. Because you’re in love with me. And I’m your boss. Or I was. Until I fired you and erased that line.”
“That’s not… That’s…”
“Aren’t you?” he insists, his fingers on my cheeks tight, his eyes probing.
Deny. Deny. Deny.
I’ve denied this obsession for so long, I’ve hidden my love for him for so long, that that’s still my first instinct. But then I think about it. Ireallythink about what’s happened in the last two weeks. How miserable I’ve been. How hard it has become to hide these things, to pretend that nothing happened between us. So much harder than before.
Not to mention, how fucking painful it was to see Tara at his door.
I thought I could handle it. I thought I could hide my pain like before and keep going but if today has proven anything, it’s that I can’t. I’m not strong enough, not anymore, not after that night.
So maybe I should tell him.
Besides he already figured it out, didn’t he? And I’m already fired. So there’s nothing holding me back.
“Yes,” I whisper back.
His fingers flex on my cheeks. His breath wavers a second or at least that’s what it seems like to me. “Yes what?”
I dig my nails into his skin. “I love you.”
This time when he exhales, Iknowhis breath is hitched and broken. I feel it against my mouth, and I open it to absorb the air that he breathed the moment I told him.
As a souvenir.
A token to keep with me when he leaves.
