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Aidan looks up, his eyes softening. "I never wanted you to pause your life. I just hoped you'd become a bigger part of mine."
"But this isn't my world, Aidan. This isn't my life. I was just allowed to borrow it for a little while."
I reach out to touch his arm, but then pull back, scared he'll pull away. The look in his eyes says he already has.
He stands up abruptly and walks the length of the room, reaching into a drawer for more clothes. "I can't believe this," he says softly.
"I'll help you find a new nanny. Someone perfect for Grace."
He glances at me. "I've already called Natasha. She's coming back."
I force a smile. "That's great."
Aidan hurriedly puts on his shirt, his movements stiff. "Jessie will handle the paperwork, and Carrigan will pack your things. I need to head to the office."
"I understand," I say, feeling like an outsider in what had become my home.
"If Grace wakes up, Jessie or Carrigan will take care of her." Within a minute, he’s fully dressed, briefcase in hand. When he looks at me, there’s no affection there. His gaze is empty.
I nod. “Okay."
At the door, he pauses. ""Thank you for your services, Miss Alvarez. However short they may have been."
I nod again, not trusting myself to speak.
The sound of his footsteps soon fade into nothingness.
The second they’re gone, I amble back into the bathroom. As soon as my bare feet hit the cool tile floor, I collapse onto the toilet seat, burying my face in my hands.
Chapter Twenty-Six
AIDAN
It’s been two weeks. Two long weeks since Lacey walked out, and every day has felt like a month.
The headlines about "The Storm's Scandalous Affair" don't help, each one louder than the last.
Following this morning's exec meeting, where we hotly debated "Any press is good press," I remain unconvinced.
The only thing I'm sure of? We need to tip the scales back in our favor—and fast.
Our last charity event was a hit, boosting both funds and our public image. It's time for another, something big, something that proves we're more than scandalous headlines.
As I stride down the hall of the Seattle Storm headquarters, ideas start to form. "Think bigger," I tell myself. "What's our grand slam?"
But as I brainstorm, Lacey’s laughter and passion for making a difference drift into my thoughts…
No, focus, Aidan. One crisis at a time.
I glance at my watch, quickening my pace. "Time to get to work," I mutter, ready for the whirlwind of planning and action awaiting me.
On this dreary Monday, I grab my coffee—black, no sugar—and head to the office.
Upon entering, I find Marcus and Ryan lounging in my office as if they own the place. They do own a part of it, but who's counting?
"Gentlemen," I greet them with my customary sarcasm.
Ryan looks up from the couch. "Man, you look like you haven't slept in weeks." He eyes my coffee. "Missing your iced vanilla lattes?"
