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I couldn’t fuck that up, and I certainly couldn’t find someone who would be as good with my daughter as her.
Sydney is irreplaceable.
That was what I kept repeating in my head as I stared at her.
“I have to tell you something …” She bent her knee, placing her bare foot on the molding. “It actually happened a little while ago. Part of me sort of forgot about it, and part of me didn’t want to mention it to you. But it feels only right to say something.”
I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms, trying to prepare myself for whatever she was about to say. “All right.”
“Everly never talks about her mom. I don’t bring up the topic. I don’t know anything about her. But she did on this rare occasion, and I think it’s important that you know.”
I exhaled as the heaviness moved into my chest. “What did she say?”
“She said that they have the same freckles, inferring that it was something you told her, not something she observed herself.”
“They do … and you’re right.”
She shifted again, tightening her grip around her stomach, her breathing speeding up. “She also told me that her mom wasn’t ready to be a mommy.”
My head dropped, my hands going into my hair, rubbing the sides of my skull. “It’s a hard topic to discuss with a four-year-old.” When I glanced up at her, her eyes were full of emotion. “I don’t like to talk about Rebecca.”
“Ford, you don’t have to.”
But I did because Sydney was responsible for my daughter. Therefore, she had to know at least a little of the circumstances that had surrounded that night.
“Rebecca and I had a one-night stand. We never bothered exchanging numbers; we made no attempt to go out again. Forty weeks later, when Everly was three days old, Rebecca showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. She told me she was going to abort her and couldn’t follow through. She was then going to put her up for adoption and didn’t do that either.” I took a breath, the pain in my chest so present. “She handed the baby to me and told me she wanted nothing to do with our child, and that was the last time she ever saw her daughter in person.”
“Oh my God.” Her hand was flat on her heart, her voice not any louder than a whisper. “I don’t … know what to say.”
I was silent for a few seconds. “Everly doesn’t know. One day, she will, but not until I’m positive it won’t destroy her.”
She took a moment to respond, finally saying in a shaky voice, “She’ll think it’s her fault. That she had done something to cause her mother to abandon her.”
As she announced my fear, it was as though she’d turned the knife that was already stabbed in my chest.
“And it’s far from her fault,” I confessed. “But it’ll take time and probably some therapy for Everly to understand that.”
Hell, it had been four years, and I still couldn’t understand it.
I crossed my hands, feeling the warmth on the inside of my palms, a sickness churning away in my stomach. “Rebecca did what she thought was best for her child, and despite my not agreeing with most of her decisions, she made one that I will be grateful for, for the rest of my life.” I paused, swallowing. “She placed that baby in my arms.”
“Ford …” She shook her head from side to side. “You’re an incredible father.” She wiped the bottoms of her eyes. “I’ll never say anything to Everly about this; you don’t have to worry.”
I looked away, needing a break, staring at my briefcase instead.
It had been a long time since I’d talked about Rebecca. I wouldn’t let my brothers or my parents discuss her. I kept my feelings inside, where, at times, they ate away at me. Where they often became too much.
Maybe it was a relief that Sydney now knew more of the story.
That I’d gotten some of this off my chest … even if that meant I was letting Sydney in a little deeper.
A level that no woman had ever reached before since this was a conversation I’d never had with any of them.
“Fuck, I could use a drink.”
“I brought a bottle of wine with me. We can open it, if you’d like.” As I looked at her, her eyes went wide. “Oh God, please don’t think I was going to drink on the job. I just thought, maybe, long after Eve went to bed one night—”
“Sydney, it’s fine. Don’t worry. There are plenty of nights I have a drink once she goes to bed.”
“Should I go open it?”
I turned off the screen to my computer and stood from the chair. “Yes.”
She walked down the hallway, and I flipped off the light to my office, following her into the kitchen. Each step she took, my eyes were glued to her ass.
Fuck me, it was perfect.
A sight I could never grow tired of, and in those jeans, it looked as good as I remembered when my hands had been holding it. Squeezing it. Fantasizing about when my cock was going to slide into it.
But, shit, that had been before she became my nanny.
