Page 97 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

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ALISTAIR

Iheard Madison’s voice echo in the kitchen from where I stood at the top of the stairs, and my pulse jumped in anticipation. I’d been anxious since coordinating the update to her Voyages app yesterday and had taken to pacing the length of my office when I wasn’t busy with Kenna. I had no clue if Madison had even accessed her app yet to notice the update. And if she had, I had no idea what she thought about it because she hadn’t reached out to me. I was at a complete loss as to what she was thinking and feeling, and that had left me spiraling all night.

I wanted to fix things.

I wanted to be a person she could rely on and trust.

Most of all, I wanted her to know how I felt.

And I can’t wait any longer, I realized. I couldn’t wait for an app to do the heavy lifting. I needed to talk to her again.

Once Kenna started at nursery, she would no longer need a nanny. Without the nanny job, Madison would have no reason to keep showing up at Dunhope and I…I couldn’t accept the idea of her no longer being around. This couldn’t be the end of us.

I sucked in a deep breath and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Florence glanced at me as I walked into the room, her eyes narrowing. She was still furious with me and didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. It made me want to return to my office. But I couldn’t do that.

Not if I wanted Madison to understand.

I held Florence’s gaze for a beat. I wanted to say I’m trying to fix this, but with a pointed look, she slipped from the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone.

“Morning,” Madison said without looking at me. She unpacked her purse onto the island. It was filled with small boxes of beads, each of them tied with a ribbon. Recently, she’d started showing up with little treats or surprises in case Kenna was having a bad day—which was the case more often than I’d like. I knew that was my fault. Kenna was still miserable over all the change, but I hoped to at least start putting everything back in order today.

I wanted to go back to the way things were before Jessica crashed and burned once again through my life.

“Good morning,” I said, leaning against the other side of the island. “How was the drive in?”

Madison lifted her shoulder. “Pretty sure a few of the news vans have finally left. There seem to be fewer of them camped out at the gates.”

“That’s promising to hear.” I was damn near desperate for the day when I’d become old news again. I dreamed of the chance to take Madison’s hand and stroll down the high street with her and Kenna, with no concerns for cameras or foul-mouthed paparazzi. I pictured myself introducing her to the joys of the kilted dash at the summer festival.

She hummed noncommittally. “At least they’ve stopped jumping out in front of the van. That was starting to stress me out. Is Kenna in the playroom?”

She was walking before I answered. “She’s fine for now,” I called after her. “Can we talk first?”

Madison hovered in the doorway, and the tension coiled between us.

I gripped the counter with one hand, feeling like the ground might open up beneath me. “Did you happen to figure out where you want to go next?”

“I was looking,” she said, turning to me, voice even.

“On Voyages?” I asked, studying her expression for any sort of clue. Had she noticed the alterations to her account?

“I saw the changes, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” she said. “And I get what you were trying to do.”

I took a step toward her, aching to reach out to her but holding back. “All I wanted to do was make sure you always know how to get back home.”

Madison folded her arms across her chest, sighing. “Braeburn has started to feel like home. So I’ve decided to stick around a little longer while I figure out what my next steps are.”

A ridiculous amount of hope bloomed inside me. “I knew you could be happy here at Dunhope with me and⁠—”

Madison cut me off with a shake of her head, making that hope go cold in an instant. “That’s not what I meant, Alistair. Braeburn has started to feel like home. Dunhope isn’t my home. I’m not part of this family, which was something you made very clear to me. I’m just the nanny, and upgrading my app doesn’t change that.”

“You’re so much more than the nanny,” I said, throat thick. “It was stupid of me to engage with them, and I knew better, but I opened my mouth anyway and spewed out that drivel hoping they’d leave you alone.”

“Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.”

“You’re right. I probably made it worse by giving them another target, and for that, I apologize. For saying you were just the nanny and for the harassment from the paps.” Grief flashed across her face, and I took a shuddering breath. “Madison, I want you here because you’re you. Because you belong with us.” I gestured toward her phone. “That’s what I tried to show you with the app.”