Chapter 7
BEAU
I wake later feeling absolutely disgusting. My clothes and sheets are soaked, like I’m coated in a thick layer of grime from how much I sweat during the night.
Gross.
I kick the covers off and try to take stock of the past several hours. How did I get into bed? And wasn’t it late afternoon?
I glance at my bedside clock but it reads 11:00am. That can’t be right. I take a few breaths and run my hands back through my, ew, damp hair, and my fingers hit something wetter than my curls. I grab it and pull forward a wet washcloth.
Then I remember really soft hands putting it on my forehead.
I sit up—and whoa, doing that quickly was a bad idea, because the room spins.
No sudden movements. But that was Arik, wasn’t it?
I’d been a little sniffly and run down the past couple of days, but nothing concerning.
Then sometime in the afternoon, after putting Bastian down for a nap, it felt like a truck hit me, and I went to lay down.
Then Arik arrived, forcing me to take pills and drink water and…
Oh shit! Did I tell him about the interview?
I am such an asshole.
LAST WEEK
“Beau? Is that you? What are you doing in this neighborhood?”
It takes me a moment to register who is speaking to me. I haven’t seen this man since well before Emily and I split up. “Jared? Holy crap! How are you?”
We hug. Jared is a friend from college, more my friend than Emily’s but still one of many people who knew us best as a couple. Jared went the middle childhood education route too, but he got a job at a local school years ago.
He is also married with kids and basically everything I wish I was at this age.
I’d decided to get out of the penthouse to clear my head, taking Bastian for another bundled up outing in the park. A different park from last time, because there was no way I was risking running into Emily again.
The continuous additions of more and more holiday decorations around the city hadn’t been carrying the same charm as when Arik and I took this stroll. So, despite it not being cold enough for snow, I’d decided to stop for a hot beverage—peppermint this time, since PSL season is behind us.
“I’m good!” Jared says. “And you’re, um… well… I thought…” He’s obviously floundering to explain why I’m pushing a stroller, so I jump to correct him.
“I’m nannying for someone right now while still looking for that solid teaching position. This is baby Bastian.”
“Oh! Hey there, little man.” Jared leans in to look at him. “Gosh, I remember when Gemma and I had our first. Feels like forever ago since he was this small. So, uh…” He clears his throat. I must be wearing an unplanned cringe. “You’re still looking for a permanent teaching position?”
“Yeah. Luck keeps not being on my side lately.”
“That is fantastic!”
Excuse me?
“Seriously, Beau, it is so perfect that I ran into you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our 6th grade history teacher just announced he’s retiring after this year.”
“You’re kidding?”
“It would be incredible to work together. I can put in a good word with our principle. She is great. She’d prefer a recommendation over going through endless applications and interviews. I can set up something for you before Christmas break. End of the week work for you?”
“That… that would be wonderful! Are you sure?”
“Of course! I mean, this is just temporary, right? You’re good to leave the nanny job?”
That was always the plan. I have a real career to think about. Real dreams and actual use of my master’s degree once I finish it. “Yeah. Yes! Totally! I mean, I can’t do this forever.” And there isn’t anything keeping me at Arik’s.
Is there?
Just because he hasn’t had any booty calls on the books, doesn’t mean he isn’t having any. He hasn’t exactly been pursuing me. Has he? Maybe I’ve just been fooling myself, the same way I did with Emily for years.
“Can you let me take the day to process this and think about it?” I ask. “The past month or so has been a bit of a whirlwind.”
“Of course. But if you don’t call me later, I am so calling you. Shoot, I gotta run.” Jared glances at the clock on the coffee shop wall before patting my shoulder. “But we are so talking about this later. Deal?”
“Deal.”
And I did think about it, but in the end, how could there be any other answer?
I rub my temples and catch sight of a bottle of ibuprofen on my nightstand. There is a fresh glass of water, and when I reach for it, I notice a note beneath it.
Take more in the morning. Only call me if you’re dying.
I snort. That is not Arik’s handwriting, but because it isn’t signed, and going off the tone, I feel like I remember Skylar forcing the next dose of pills into me and being a lot less tender with his bedside manner. But why would Skylar be here instead of Arik?
And holy shit, is it really the next day?
I have to get up. For a shower at the very least. But first I take the meds and down all of the water. Going slow is a necessity, but I don’t feel nearly as bad as I did yesterday. I check the nursery to find it empty, but in the kitchen, there is another note.
Took Bastian to the hospital. Just rest. Everything is fine.
-Arik
Everything is not fine! I got Bastian sick? I got him sick enough to need to go to the hospital, and they’re still not home at eleven the next day!
I race so quickly to take a shower, I feel dizzy again, but I don’t care. I can’t leave the penthouse as a sweat-soaked mess, but I have to get down there. I know Arik still uses First Methodist as Bastian’s primary. I know his pediatrician. I have all his emergency numbers.
I have to get down there.
It doesn’t dawn on me to call Arik until my cab is almost to the hospital, but by then, I just want to see them, and to possibly throw myself at the mercy of Arik’s rage if anything happened to that precious baby.
I’m fatigued and winded when I finally reach the right floor, trying to remember which direction the nurse’s station is when I hear:
“Thank you, Dolores.”
Arik.
I sprint toward the sound of his voice, spotting him with a baby carrier set atop the nurse’s station desk just as he turns his head and also sees me.
“Beau.” He whirls around fully, and with the motion, I see inside the carrier that Bastian looks… fine. “What on earth are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”
“He’s okay?” I ask anyway, despite seeing that Bastian is awake and cooing without a care in the world. “He’s really okay?”
“He’s fine,” Arik affirms, brushing the curls from my eyes—damp again already, damn it—just as I brush the dark hair from Bastian’s forehead. He doesn’t feel warm either. “See? Just like I told you. And just like you’ll be fine once you get back to resting like you’re supposed to be.”
“I know.” I lean in to Arik’s touch without meaning to, but it feels nice the way his fingers linger before he draws them away.
“You weren’t home, and I couldn’t stay there and wait without seeing you.
Both of you.” I feel suddenly very exposed with the way the nurse is staring at us. I probably seem nuts to her.
“Since Bastian is under three months, they wanted to keep him overnight as a precaution,” Arik explains. “We were just waiting for the rest of his fever to go down before they released him. Everything is fine, Beau. He’s a baby. He’s going to get sick once in a while.”
“I know, but… it was my fault. I didn’t even notice he had a fever.”
“You were probably getting yours by then too, so he didn't feel warm to you.”
“That’s worse. And you… how are you not freaking out?” I glance at Arik sheepishly. He seems so steady, so capable, so… exactly like he always is. “Baby’s first fever, and you kept your cool?”
“Maybe not the whole time, though I hid it remarkably well. Right, Dolores?”
Dolores snorts. “He was a wreck when they first came in.”
“Thank you, Dolores,” Arik growls.
Half of me wants to laugh, but I hate that I caused any kind of panic in this man who is usually so put together. I would have panicked. I’m still panicking!
“It’s fine now,” he says to me again. “How about I treat us both to that surprisingly not terrible coffee downstairs, and then I am getting both you sickies back to bed.”
“Okay. But Arik, I am seriously so—”
“I know.” His smile is strained, even if he doesn’t want me to notice. I doubt he slept much last night, if at all. How can I ever make this up to him?
It’s all cordial and calm small talk while we enjoy our coffees, but I don’t know how I can forgive myself no matter how much Arik tells me it’s okay.
When we get home, I’m admittedly exhausted and need to lie down, but I don’t feel right resting until Bastian is changed and fed and put to bed first. I think Arik only lets me do the work because he can see how desperate I am to help.
When Bastian is finally asleep in his crib, I don’t leave his side right away, and my vision goes a little blurry from tears building.
“Hey.” Arik is there to pull me away, and though I try to keep my head ducked until I can compose myself, he doesn’t let me.
He leads me into the hall and makes me look at him.
“Do you know why I am not nor could I ever be upset with you over what happened? Because you are just as worried about Bastian as I was. No dilution because he isn’t your son.
You treat him like he is. You care for him like he is.
That’s sort of the dream scenario for a nanny. ”
“Or an overly attached one, according to the movies.”
Arik smiles. “I don’t mind if you’re overly attached. I am too. With you.”
“You… you are?” Or am I still delirious?
“The truth is, I was just as worried about you yesterday, and I would never blame you for Bastian catching your cold.”
“But it’s my—”
“It’s your fault for taking him to your interview? You took him to a school, Beau, not a crack den.”
I huff. “I’m still sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t told you a lot of things. I should have just talked to you weeks ago, but I had to go and launch a Sun Tzu offensive instead.”