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“You’re making it sound like something it’s not.”
She crosses her arms and cocks out a hip. “And what’s that? That you couldn’t keep it in your pants for the sake of your son? That you had to get your dick wet by fucking the nanny?”
Anger lights a torch in my chest. There have been very few times I’ve been angry with Hannah over the years, but right now it feels as if I could breathe fire. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to me? I knew something was off when she left. That poor girl was heartbroken, and it’s not just because she had to say goodbye to Theo.”
I stare at her, breathing deeply and trying to calm myself before I answer.
“I met Violet six months before she started here. We slept together one night and she wouldn’t give me her information, so I went back to where we met a bunch of times, hoping I’d run into her, only I didn’t. The next time I saw her was when you introduced her as Theo’s nanny.” It’s out and I feel fucking fantastic that it is.
Her forehead wrinkles. “Why wouldn’t you have said something to me then?”
“Days before you were due to leave? I didn’t wanna mess up the opportunity for you after you’ve been so supportive of my career, and if you thought she was the best one for the job, I trust your judgment. Plus, if I’m honest, I was glad to see her again. I didn’t plan for anything to happen, but I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t excited she was back in my life.”
“That still doesn’t explain how you ended up sleeping with her.” She puts her hands on her hips.
I roll my eyes. “We’re adults. Things happen, Han.”
“Like sex in the pantry when our son is in the house?”
“We were both still attracted to each other, but we agreed that Theo could never know and it wasn’t supposed to be serious. It was fun, blow off some steam, and we’d both move on once her time here was done.”
“How’d that work out for you? The woman who left here was not a woman who was ready to move on.”
I laugh and shake my head.
“Mommy, are you coming?” Theo shouts from the front door.
“You’ve got it backward. She broke my heart.” I push off the counter, feeling a tiny bit of satisfaction at Hannah’s gaping jaw. Having been with me herself, she probably never thought it possible that I’d let a woman get close enough to affect me this much. “Let me know when you’re bringing Theo home tomorrow and I’ll make sure I’m around.”
I leave the kitchen without a backward glance and head down to the gym, needing to get out of my head. The wound Violet’s opened with her abrupt departure is an old one that will never heal—not fully at least.
Thirty-one
Violet
It’s been just over a week since I left Brady’s house in tears. Every time I feel sorry for myself, I remind myself how much worse I would feel if I’d stayed and we’d tried to make it work then broke up years later. How much more I would have been invested.
Saying goodbye to Theo broke me. I miss him as much as I miss Brady, but while it took me six months of wallowing to come out of my haze of grief before, I refuse to dive into that same hole this time. After all, I did all this so that I wouldn’t end up as broken as I was after I ended my engagement.
Which is why I’m going out with Shayna and Bryce tonight. Shayna texted me a bunch of times after she caught word that Hannah was back in town and I’d moved out of Brady’s house. I don’t know what she knows, but I didn’t want to see her at first.
She has a connection to Brady’s team, so I refused her invitations the first couple of times, but since I’ve decided I cannot be the same woman I was after my ex-fiancé broke me, I accepted when she reached out earlier today. Besides, this could be the last time I have a chance to see her and Bryce for a while.
That doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to rehashing it though. I had my fill of that when Amara stopped by my parents’ earlier this week.
Still, I go through the motions, picking out a pair of black satin pants and a white flowing blouse and putting waves in my hair. It’s not my usual getup for a night out, but it’s the best I can do tonight. I keep my makeup minimal because I’m afraid I might cry it off anyway, and the only thing worse than crying in public is that coupled with raccoon eyes.
Once I’m ready, I head upstairs from my bedroom in the basement to leave. I hear someone shuffling around in the kitchen, so I head there to say goodbye to whoever it is. My mom is unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey, Umma.” I set my purse on the counter. “I’m heading out and just wanted to say bye.”
She straightens from where she is bent over the dishwasher and glances at the microwave. “So late?”
“I’m twenty-eight, Umma. Twenty-eight-year-olds can leave at nine thirty for drinks.” I try to keep the snip from my voice but don’t manage.
She grumbles something I can’t make out, grabs some of the cutlery from the dishwasher, and walks over to the drawer to sort it. “Did your brother send you a picture of the ring yet? It’s so beautiful.”
