Sunny
After their exhausting last night together, the flight home was a special kind of torture.
Liam sat across the aisle, his attention focused on his phone whenever the flight attendants weren’t enforcing the airplane mode policy.
His face grew more grave with each notification.
The muscle in his jaw twitched visibly as he typed out responses.
He remained cordial when addressing her, warm with his daughters, but the easy intimacy they’d shared had evaporated like morning mist.
Just yesterday, they’d been walking barefoot along the beach at sunset, his arm around her waist, her head tilted against his shoulder as they’d laughed about Hailey’s attempt to befriend a seagull.
Now, they were careful not to let their fingers brush when passing snacks across the aisle, hyper aware of curious glances from fellow passengers.
“We’re just tired, sweetie,” she replied, giving the girl’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Maddie studied her face with Kate’s penetrating blue eyes. “Is it because of those people who were taking pictures of you and Daddy at the beach? I saw them hiding. They were being sneaky.”
Sunny’s breath caught. Maddie had seen the photographers? The thought that the girls might have witnessed that invasion of privacy made her stomach clench with fresh anxiety.
From across the aisle, Liam’s head snapped up, his gaze sharp as he caught Maddie’s words. Their eyes met over the child’s head, a silent communication passing between them.
“When did you see that, pumpkin?” Liam asked gently, reaching across to tuck a strand of hair behind Maddie’s ear. “Why didn’t you tell Daddy?”
Maddie shrugged. “You were smiling and laughing. I didn’t want to make you stop being happy.”
The simple observation landed like a punch to Sunny’s chest. These girls had seen their father genuinely happy and hadn’t wanted to interfere. She caught Liam’s gaze again, saw the same realization dawning in his eyes.
During their layover in Atlanta, Sunny had made the mistake of passing a newsstand.
Her step had faltered when she spotted a familiar image — her own face alongside Liam’s — on the cover of a glossy tabloid.
“GRIEF, LUST & BETRAYAL: Hockey Star’s Secret Caribbean Romance.
” The sight had made her physically ill, and she’d hurried the girls away before they could notice.
Now, halfway through the second leg of their journey, Sunny noticed a middle-aged couple a few rows ahead stealing glances, whispering behind their hands.
The woman’s eyes darted between Liam and Sunny with naked curiosity.
When their gazes met, the woman didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed at being caught staring.
Instead, she elbowed her husband and whispered something else, both of them turning to openly gawk.
This was just the beginning, Sunny realized. The stares, the whispers, the judgment — it would follow them home like an unwelcome shadow. What had been one gossip site’s story yesterday was everywhere today. By tomorrow, who knew how much worse it would get?
***
The familiar grandeur of the Anderson mansion felt different as they pulled into the circular driveway.
What had once seemed like a sanctuary now felt exposed, as if the very walls had become transparent to the prying eyes of the world.
Sunny noticed Liam scanning the perimeter as he helped the girls from the car.
Beth met them at the door, her typically cheerful demeanor subdued. The older woman’s eyes darted between Liam and Sunny with an uncomfortable knowledge that made Sunny’s cheeks burn.
“Welcome home,” Beth said, helping take some of their luggage. “The girls must be exhausted from the journey.”
“I’m not tired!” Hailey protested on cue, though the smudges beneath her eyes told a different story. “Can we watch a movie, Daddy?”
“Later, peanut,” Liam replied, his gaze catching on the blinking red light of the answering machine. “Why don’t you and Maddie go pick out which toys you missed the most.”
As the girls scampered off, Beth turned to Liam with a sympathetic expression. “There’s been quite a few calls,” she said quietly. “Your agent, the team office. And… others. Reporters, I think. I wouldn’t answer the landline at all yesterday.”
Liam’s jaw tightened as he nodded. “Thanks, Beth. I’ll deal with it.”
Without another word, he strode toward his office, cell phone already in hand, leaving Sunny standing amid the luggage with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
This was their new reality — Liam immediately pulled away by the demands of damage control, Sunny left to maintain normalcy for the girls while everything crumbled around them.
“It’ll blow over,” Beth offered kindly, noting Sunny’s expression. The older woman placed a gentle hand on her arm. “These things always do, eventually. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve been the best thing to happen to this family in a long time.”
The unexpected support brought a lump to Sunny’s throat. In the weeks she’d lived with the Andersons, Beth had been a quiet but steady presence, maintaining professional boundaries while being unfailingly kind.
“I just don’t want to make things worse for them,” she admitted in a low voice. “The girls have been through so much already.”
Beth’s eyes softened with understanding. “Sometimes the path that seems most difficult is the one most worth taking,” she said. “I watched Kate and Liam build something beautiful here. After she passed, I never thought I’d see life in this house again. But you brought it back, dear.”
Before Sunny could respond, Maddie appeared holding a stuffed penguin aloft triumphantly. “Found him!” she called down. “He was hiding under my pillow!”
Beth gave Sunny’s arm a final reassuring squeeze before they separated to handle the practical tasks of settling back in.
With a sigh, Sunny began the process of unpacking and adjusting the girls back into home routine.
She tried to focus on practical tasks — sorting laundry, organizing the girls’ souvenirs, preparing a light lunch — but her thoughts kept drifting to the muffled sounds of Liam’s conversation from his office.
“No, that’s not… Listen, it’s been blown completely out of proportion,” she heard him say at one point as she passed his door. “My personal life is my own business.”
Another time: “I understand the team’s concerns, but my family comes first.”
And most distressingly: “I don’t need to justify my actions to anyone. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
It wasn’t what he was saying that troubled her — in fact, she appreciated his defense — but the very fact that he had to defend their relationship at all. That their connection, which felt so natural and right when they were alone, was now being scrutinized as some sort of transgression.
After settling the girls with a snack and their favorite cartoon, Sunny retreated to her room under the guise of unpacking her own things. The moment the door closed behind her, she sank onto the edge of her bed, the weight of the day finally crushing her composure.
With trembling fingers, she pulled out her own phone, which she had deliberately left on airplane mode until now. She steeled herself and turned it on.
Her phone vibrated continuously as it connected to the network.
Dozens of Instagram notifications. Twitter mentions from accounts she’d never interacted with.
Facebook friend requests from strangers.
Text messages from former colleagues and even old foster siblings she hadn’t spoken to in years.
Everyone, it seemed, had seen the story.
Against her better judgment, Sunny opened Instagram first. Her typically quiet account, mostly filled with photos of crafts she’d done with the girls (faces always carefully excluded for privacy) and the occasional landscape, had exploded with activity.
Her direct messages were flooded:
OMG is it true??? You’re dating LIAM ANDERSON??
Hey, remember me from foster care? Would love to catch up! Maybe an exclusive interview about your relationship? I work for TruthTeller now.
Gold-digging whore. He just lost his wife. Have you no shame?
You’re living the dream girl! Get that hockey dough! ??????
The public comments on her photos were worse — people tagging their friends, speculating about her relationship with Liam, making crude jokes about nannies and employers. Some had even found photos from years ago, making nasty comparisons between her and Kate based on looks alone.
Is it true the hockey player is banging you? My boyfriend says nannies are always asking for it.
Didn’t know Kate Anderson had been replaced by THIS. Talk about a downgrade!
Step 1: Become nanny. Step 2: Seduce grieving widower. Step 3: PROFIT.
Sunny felt violated, as if strangers had broken into her home and rifled through her most personal possessions.
These people knew nothing about her, about the genuine care she had for the girls, about the complex emotions that had developed between her and Liam.
They saw only what they wanted to see — a scandalous stereotype, a narrative that fit their preconceived notions.
Before she could stop herself, Sunny found herself diving deeper into the rabbit hole, clicking on hashtags related to the story. What she found made her physically ill.
Twitter was ablaze with opinions, many from hockey fans concerned that Liam was “distracted” by his “fling with the hired help.” Others speculated that she was a calculating gold-digger who had set her sights on a vulnerable widower from day one.
Some particularly vicious comments suggested she was a terrible influence on the girls, teaching them to be “homewreckers” (never mind that Kate had passed away — facts seemed irrelevant in the court of public opinion).
Mommy bloggers had already written think pieces about the “harmful message” Liam was sending to his impressionable daughters. Armchair psychologists diagnosed both her and Liam with various disorders based on nothing but paparazzi photos.
And then there were the comments about her appearance — scrutinizing everything from her figure to her clothing choices to her makeup (or lack thereof in the beach photos). She was simultaneously deemed “not pretty enough for him” and accused of using her “obvious sex appeal” to manipulate Liam.
The cruel words blurred on the screen as tears filled Sunny’s eyes. She felt sick, dizzy with anxiety, her chest tight as if bands were constricting around her lungs. Yet she couldn’t stop scrolling, consuming the poison like a masochistic addiction.
A soft knock on her door finally broke the spell.
Hastily wiping her eyes, Sunny called out, “Just a minute!” She took a deep breath, composing herself before opening the door to find Maddie standing in the hallway, her favorite stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest.
“The cartoon ended,” the six-year-old said matter-of-factly. “And Hailey fell asleep. I’m bored.”
Sunny forced a smile, grateful for the interruption. “How about we unpack your souvenirs and find a special place for each one?”
As she helped Maddie arrange her collection of seashells and small trinkets on her bookshelf, Sunny felt the knot in her chest gradually loosen. This — these quiet moments with the girls, these simple acts of care — this was real. Not the vicious speculation of strangers on the internet.
“Are you going to leave us?” Maddie asked suddenly, her small fingers tracing the spiral of a conch shell. The question, delivered in such a casual tone, struck Sunny hard.
“What makes you ask that, sweetie?” she managed, trying to keep her voice steady.
Maddie shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “When bad things happen, people go away. And Daddy was talking loud on the phone.”
Sunny’s heart broke at the child’s perception.
“I’m not planning to go anywhere,” Sunny said softly, cupping Maddie’s cheek. “I care about you and Hailey too much.”
“Promise?” Maddie’s blue eyes, so much like Liam’s, bored into hers with an intensity that belied her age.
The weight of that simple question nearly crushed Sunny. How could she make a promise she might not be able to keep? Yet looking at this child who had already lost so much, she couldn’t bear to add to her uncertainty.
“I promise I will always care about you,” she replied carefully. “No matter what.”
It wasn’t the unequivocal assurance Maddie wanted, but it was the most honest response Sunny could give.