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“You take care of the kids because that’s your job,” Sean said again.

“You’re right,” I said, nodding my head. “It is my job and yet, this morning, you wouldn’t let me do it. You interfered when I tried to discipline Sarah, and now, she’s going to think it’s okay to lash out at me when I tell her no.”

“She’s my daughter and I—” Sean began but my anger was too much to control.

“I don’t take care of your kids just because I’m getting paid to,” I said, trying to keep my voice down so I wouldn’t wake Tommy and Sarah. “Somehow, after everything that’s happened between us, I thought we meant more to each other than that. I thought I was actually becoming a member of this family, but I guess I’m not. If I’m just the hired help, then fine. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll just worry about the job you’re paying me to do.”

With that, I turned to leave the room, but Sean jumped up to stop me. He grabbed my arm and spun me back around to face him.

“Where’s this coming from?” he demanded.

“You!” I said. “You push me away every chance you get. You’re totally fine having sex with me, but the second I try to actually get close to you, you shut down. God Sean, you’re sitting alone in the dark. You’re clearly upset and instead of talking to me about it, you get pissed, lie, and say it’s nothing.”

“I don’t have to talk about anything if I don’t want to,” he said darkly.

“You’re right,” I scoffed. “You don’t, but I thought our relationship was going somewhere. I thought you cared about me.”

“I do,” he said.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” I asked. “Why lie to me when I ask what’s wrong? Why push me away every time I try to show you how much I care? Why pretend I don’t exist every time you get moody?”

Sean didn’t answer. His face fell, and he dropped his hand from my arm. I stood there silently, waiting for him to answer my questions, but he never did. He just stared at me as if he didn’t quite know what to say. I could feel tears pooling in my eyes, and I didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Good night, Sean,” I said.

Without another word, I turned around. As I walked upstairs, I thought Sean might try to stop me, but he didn’t. He just stood in the middle of the living room and watched me disappear from sight.

When I reached my room, I closed the door softly behind me and fell onto my bed. I didn’t even bother getting undressed. All my energy was gone. After the day I had, my head was pounding and my stomach ached.

I laid on top of the covers that night, hugging my pillow and finally letting the tears fall from my eyes. As I finally drifted off to sleep, I wondered if Sean would fire me in the morning, or if somehow, he would finally let me in.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - SEAN

Friday morning arrived with a fresh wave of guilt. When my eyes opened, I immediately felt the weight of what I’d done. My eyes fell closed again, and I groaned, sure that I’d ruined things with Emily for good.

I pulled myself out of bed and walked slowly into the kitchen. I wondered if she would quit because of my behavior. Deep down, I knew she loved Tommy and Sarah too much to ever quit, but I worried I’d hurt her so badly she wouldn’t be able to live here anymore.

I sighed as I sunk into my chair at the kitchen table. It was early, too early for anyone else to be awake yet. I thought about getting some writing done, but for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel important.

What mattered was Emily and finding a way to make things right between us again. I didn’t know how I would do that, but I knew I had to try. As I sat at the table, playing over our conversation in my head, I had an idea.

Grinning, I shoved myself to my feet and hurried into the kitchen. I still wasn’t a great cook, but I was getting better. With Emily’s help, my food had become edible, and I’d even begun learning how to make her famous french toast. As I gathered the ingredients, I knew the food wouldn’t be delicious, but I hoped the gesture would be enough to make things up to Emily.

I hurried through cooking, knowing the kids would be awake any minute. By the time I got the french toast made and the bacon frying, I heard thunderous footsteps coming my way. I craned my neck around to see Tommy and Sarah flying into the kitchen,

“Oh no!” Tommy said, groaning loudly. “Dad’s cooking!”

“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “I’m making Emily’s famous french toast. It’ll be good!”

“Ugh!” Tommy said, falling into his chair.

“Just try it, okay?” I asked.

Tommy nodded, but Sarah still looked hesitant. When I set her plate in front of her, she just poked at the toast with her fork. I cut a small bite for her and nudged it playfully toward her lips like I did when she was a toddler. She giggled and finally tried it.

“It’s good!” Sarah said with shock in her voice.

“It is?” Tommy asked. He eyed his plate and then took a tiny bite. His face lit up with excitement as he chewed. “It is! Dad, you can cook now!”

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