60. Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-one
Leo
Brynn's face drains of color. Her previously golden skin fades to ghostly white as she tumbles back on her heels, landing on the rug surrounded by Salem’s toys. She whimpers, and my heart breaks.
I should go to her, but I can’t.
I’m frozen.
Imprisoned within a cyclone of sheer panic, questions whirl in my head like a windstorm.
Why the fuck is Bella here?
Is she here for my daughter?
Is she going to try to take her away from me?
Bella—as I knew her when we slept together two years ago—rests her head on top of Salem’s and cries along with her. She isn’t holding her roughly, isn’t doing anything to cause her physical harm, but my lungs seize anyway.
“Dada!” Salem reaches for me, but I can’t move.
Terror tears into me with the force of a million bullets as I fight against the force keeping me frozen. Never in my life have I felt so helpless or so self-loathingly pathetic. Salem’s features scrunch as she releases another cry, continuing to stretch her arms out for me.
My fists clench so tightly my nails cut like blades into my skin as I send an imploring look to Brynn, who's still sitting on the floor, watching everything unfold with a sort of pained bewilderment.
Help me, I beg her with my eyes.
She sucks in a shuddering breath, eyelids fluttering closed as she fights to compose herself. With renewed strength, she pulls herself back up to kneeling and sets a trembling hand on Isabella’s arm.
Issy , as she apparently goes by now, blinks slowly in her friend's direction.
"I think Salem is overwhelmed. If you pass her back to me, I can get her settled." Brynn’s voice shakes as she speaks, but her expression is one of conviction.
Salem is crying properly now, tears rolling down her face in time with each shuddering beat of my heart. But Issy makes no move to pass her to Brynn.
"What do you want right now, Issy? Because the baby is upset, and I think it would be better for everyone if we get her to calm down."
Issy looks down at my daughter, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I just wanted to see her."
Brynn swallows. "I understand that."
"I'm her mother."
No, you're not! I want to scream. A mother wouldn't abandon her child on the doorstep of a man who hadn't even known she was pregnant. A mother wouldn't rid herself of responsibility and move thousands of miles away to pretend that her daughter never existed. And a mother sure as fuck wouldn't show up at her daughter's home under some fake-ass guise of friendship to throw her entire world into chaos just for the benefit of herself.
Brynn's lip trembles as she nods. "I know."
"I want to talk"—Issy sniffs—"about being in her life."
"We can talk about that," Brynn whispers. "Let's get Salem settled, and then we can have a conversation."
I could cry in relief when Issy's shoulders drop in resignment, her hold loosening on Salem. Brynn immediately scoops her up and takes several steps to the other side of the living room rug, cradling my daughter's head on her shoulder and smoothing her hand over her back until Salem's cries drop to tiny, shaking whimpers.
Finally, I can breathe again.
My daughter is okay. She's unharmed. She's safe. If she’s with Brynn, then she can’t be stolen from me.
"There we go." Brynn bounces from foot to foot as she sways Salem back and forth.
Fixing Issy with a furious glare, I rush over to my family.
"Thank you." I kiss Salem on the temple then Brynn on the mouth. Maybe it's an inappropriate time to do it, but I don't give a shit. All I care about is showing Brynn how grateful I am, how eternally indebted I am to her, for dealing with the situation the way that she did, for saving my baby girl, for doing what I couldn't. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
She looks up at me with glassy eyes. There's so much emotion in her expression: relief, pain, confusion. She must have a million questions, and yet, she doesn't ask a single one. She simply kisses me back, her lips soft and salty with tears, and whispers, "Always," into my mouth.
Bella is still sitting on the sofa, leaving dirty tear stains on the cream chenille, with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shake as she sobs, pitiful noises escaping with every breath she exhales.
I can barely look at her.
It's been twenty-three months since the night we slept together, and frankly, I can barely remember any of it, which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because there is nothing about this woman that I want permanently burned into my memory.
It had been insignificant, I know that much. And it breaks my heart that my daughter was brought into this world as a result of a meaningless one-night stand. Before Salem, I'd always thought that if I ever had kids, they'd be conceived out of love. Not several cheap beers and a broken condom.
But would I change what happened?
No.
There is no part of me that regrets what happened that night.
Even now, with the resentment I feel toward Isabella for doing what she did, I wouldn’t wish to go back in time and stop things with her before they started. Because as angry as I am, Isabella gave me Salem. And my daughter is the greatest thing to have ever happened to me, even if being a single father has been more difficult than I ever imagined it could be.
“What are you doing here?” I finally have the courage to ask.
Issy lifts her head, dark, inky lines tracking down her cheeks from where her mascara has run. “I just wanted to see her.” She sniffs.
“Well, you’ve seen her. Now, get out.”
She doesn’t even flinch, just gazes wistfully at my daughter who’s fallen fast asleep on Brynn’s shoulder.
“I only found out her name today.” She wipes her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. “I tried not to look you up, so I’ve always just called her baby girl in my head. But now I know what to call her. It’s pretty. I like it.” She attempts to smile, but it comes out more of a grimace.
“I couldn’t give less of a shit if you like it or not.”
“Leo,” Brynn whispers my name sharply. She sets her free hand on my arm and squeezes until I look at her. “Try not to escalate things, okay?”
I suck in a breath, my immediate instinct to snap at her for expecting me to act calm right now. But with one look at her crestfallen face, I know it’s not her intention to try to minimize or temper my reaction. She’s simply trying to stop the situation from getting any worse.
But it’s easier said than done to calm down, especially when I’ve been blindsided by the woman who abandoned my daughter.
Issy rocks back and forth in her seat, her hands tucked under her thighs. “I’d like to talk about being in her life.”
"Absolutely not."
Her face falls, crumpling like paper. She scrunches her eyes closed to save herself from crying again, squeaking, "I'm her mom."
Screw it. I can’t be calm right now.
"You gave up that title when you abandoned her. You didn't even tell me you were pregnant. You just left that poor, helpless little baby on my doorstep with a lawyer and paperwork that very clearly states you are no longer her fucking mother." My chest heaves as I seethe at her audacity, venom dripping from every word I spit at her.
"That—that’s not how it happened."
"So you didn’t leave her with a lawyer and have him drop her off at my door like some mail-order baby service?"
She grips the sofa cushion with white knuckles. "No, I did, but—"
"But nothing, Isabella. You don't get to change your mind just because your conscience has finally caught up. You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it."
"You don’t understand,” she pleads.
“No, it’s you who doesn’t understand. If you'd told me you were pregnant, I could have supported you through it. We could have done our best to co-parent the baby together, or I would have taken sole custody if that was what you wanted. You didn't give me the opportunity to prepare to be a father, to buy the things a baby needs, or get things in place so she'd be safe and well looked after. You didn't afford me one conversation, Isabella. So, I've already done more for you tonight than you have ever done for me, but my kindness runs out now."
Silently, Brynn reaches out her free hand to hold mine between the arms of our chairs. Her fingers ghost over my knuckles, reminding me that she's here, and she's in my corner. But then she pulls away, softly transferring a still-sleeping Salem into my arms before turning to her friend.
"Okay,” she says gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I think that's enough for tonight."
Isabella whimpers, her head falling back as she loses the fight with her tears. I can’t watch it. This false display of emotion won’t work on me. My mind is already made up. Over my dead body will that woman ever be allowed around my daughter.
"She can't stay here," I mutter, looking only at Brynn.
"I know.” She nods in understanding. “I'll text my brother and ask if she can stay in his guest room tonight."
I drop my lips to Brynn's forehead, breathing in the fruity scent of her skin until my pulse starts to slow. "I'm gonna put Salem to bed. Come and find me when she's gone."
She nods, but her eyes aren’t on me. They’re staring with sadness at Isabella, who’s tearing at her hair with her hands.
And I don’t understand how Brynn can feel any level of empathy toward that woman after what she did to me. To my daughter.
So, I take my daughter and stride from the room. I don’t look back, not at Isabella, not at Brynn either. It’s all too much.
But it's only five minutes later when I hear the telltale sound of Alex's knock, followed by a few muffled words, and then the door finally closing.
My bedroom door opens, and Brynn stands in the threshold, looking at me with soft eyes, the light from the hallway creating a glowing halo of gold around her. I’m still vibrating with rage, but one look at her standing there like some ethereal goddess sent from the heavens to save me calms the thunderstorm roaring in my soul.
"Is Salem staying with us tonight?" She nods to where my daughter is sleeping in the middle of the mattress beside me.
"I didn't want to be away from her," I admit with a whisper.
Her eyes soften as she tugs self-consciously at the hem of her skirt. "I understand that." Chewing nervously on her lower lip, she looks at me from beneath her dark lashes. "Do you want me to stay in my room?"
"No." I flip over the comforter and pat her side of the bed. "I need both of my girls tonight."
I get the feeling she needs Salem and me too. And it thaws the last frozen piece of my heart that she was prepared to be alone tonight if I didn't want her to stay. She would sacrifice her own needs for the sake of ours. It's what she's been doing from the very beginning. Pulling back on her career to look after Salem. Giving up her evenings to put my daughter to bed, even when I've been able to do it myself. Putting her emotions to the side tonight and prioritizing me and Salem, even if it was to her own detriment.
How I ever thought this woman was selfish is beyond me.
She's the furthest thing from it.
The door closes behind her, drenching us in darkness. The only light left is a narrow sliver of silver slipping through the drapes, but it's just enough to guide Brynn's movements. She strips down to her underwear, snatching one of my t-shirts from the chair in the corner and pulling it over her head. Then she pads to the bed and climbs in next to Salem.
Sensing her, Salem's eyes flutter open, reaching out a little hand to Brynn, who encases it inside her own. "Muh."
"What's that, ladybug?"
"Muh, muh."
Brynn shakes her head, not understanding Salem's babbles, but she smiles anyway. She leans over to press a kiss to her forehead and whispers, "Sleep tight, baby girl."
My daughter blinks sleepily, her face peaceful and content. With our feet tangling beneath the covers, Brynn and I watch as her eyelids fall heavy, and her lips part, her breaths deepening, her chest rising and falling with slow, whispering sighs.
We lay awake for a long while afterward.
The weight of the evening's events choke the air between us like a smog that just won't lift. But neither of us mention it. There's so much to say, yet the words are lost to us both. My lungs are too thick to speak, my head too hazy to think. So, I stroke my foot over Brynn's and pray that she can feel all the things I wish I was able to say to her out loud.
That things haven’t changed between us. That what I meant when I said I needed to find a new nanny was that I want her here without the complication of employment. That she doesn't have to say goodbye to Salem…not now, not ever.
Because Roman and Libby were right, even if I wasn't ready to admit it to myself then.
Somewhere between becoming Salem's nanny and lying here in bed beside her tonight, I fell in love with her. She stopped being Salem's nanny and became something more than that. The thing my daughter has always been missing. The thing Isabella thinks she is but will never be.
Her mom.
It just took tonight to make me see what’s been true all along.
Muh-muh , Salem had called her.
Because she knows it too.