Chapter 15
Anna
It’s been almost a month since Liala and I moved in with Landon. Thirty days of watching him be the father Liala deserves, of him stepping into the role I once feared he never could. And thirty days of him deliberately keeping me at arm’s length.
Every morning, I wake to the sound of Liala’s laughter floating from the nursery, only to peek in and find him there crouched on the floor, coaxing her into a game of peek-a-boo.
His eyes light up with a warmth reserved for her alone.
He knows exactly how to make her giggle, exactly how to soothe her when she cries. Every ounce of him is devoted to her.
When it comes to me, he might as well be blind—and I’m not being dramatic.
His actions say it all: he’s just as adept at ignoring me.
When I speak, he offers only clipped replies and never meets my eyes.
When we cross paths, he just walks past me.
And it hurts. I know I brought this on myself, but knowing that doesn’t make the ache go away.
The truth is, it’s infuriating to watch him maintain a distance I may have created with my words—but one he now seems intent on keeping.
Even last night, when I stood in the doorway watching Liala snuggle into him, her tiny fingers clutching his shirt as he read her a bedtime story, a pang of longing twisted through me.
I should feel relieved, even grateful, that he’s giving her this love and stability, that he’s every bit the perfect dad my little girl needs.
But instead, every moment I witness between them only deepens the ache of being left out.
I sit on the couch with my knees drawn to my chest, the same thought looping through my mind: how long can we keep living like this? And if we do, what will it mean for Liala?
“Ma’am?” Christy’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I blink up at Liala’s nanny sitting across from me on the couch, Liala perched on her lap. She tilts her head and offers me a small smile. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while.”
I shake myself out of my daze and force a faint smile. “I’m fine. It’s just… work.”
Christy nods, though her eyes tell me she doesn’t believe a word of it.
Still, she doesn’t press, turning her attention back to Liala and opening the picture book balanced on her lap.
I watch as Liala leans happily into her, listening intently, her little fingers brushing over the pages as Christy reads to her in a soothing voice.
I never thought I’d be okay with someone else stepping into this role. At first, I hated the idea of a nanny, another stranger in our lives, in Liala’s world. But Christy has proven me wrong in every way.
She’s middle-aged, calm, endlessly patient, and somehow knows exactly how to balance firm care with gentle love.
Liala adores her, and I can see why. With her warm brown eyes and soft chestnut hair swept into a neat bun, she always looks effortlessly put-together in a simple blouse and well-worn jeans.
When Landon and I are buried in work, Christy fills in the spaces we can’t, giving Liala the steady comfort I once believed only I could provide.
And for that, I find myself unexpectedly and deeply grateful to Christy for being who she is, and also to Landon for choosing her when I never would have.
As if on cue, the front door opens and Landon steps into the living room, his phone pressed to his ear, his expression stoic. But the moment his eyes land on Liala, his gaze softens, the hard lines of his face easing.
“The meeting can wait. Now it’s time for me to spend with my daughter,” he says to someone on the other end and disconnects the phone.
My heart melts at his words, then races as he goes straight for Liala. She giggles when he scoops her up and presses a kiss to her forehead before turning to Christy.
“You can take a break. I’ve got her,” he says.
Christy nods and excuses herself, leaving the room as he settles onto the couch with Liala in his lap. He bounces her lightly, drawing out her laughter until her tiny teeth flash in the sweetest grin.
I try to join the conversation and clear my throat. “I was thinking—”
“Whatever it is, you’ll have to tell me later. Right now, I’m busy with my daughter.” There he goes again, shutting me out without a second thought, his attention locked on Liala.
‘Why does his ignoring me bother me so much?’ I mutter under my breath, mostly to myself. But of course, the jerk must have heard it, because his brow arches and that infuriating smirk tugs at his lips, making it impossible not to glare back.
“Something bothering you?” he asks, smug as ever.
“Yeah.” I cross my arms, desperate to end this ridiculous act of his. “The fact that you seem to enjoy pretending I don’t exist.”
His smirk fades, and he settles back slightly, still holding Liala with effortless ease.
“Trust me, Anna,” he says, his gaze locking on mine with an intensity that makes my pulse stutter.
“Pretending you don’t exist is the last thing I’d ever do.
But I want you to be comfortable, and I assumed keeping my distance was what you wanted.
Unless…” His mouth curves the faintest bit again. “…you’re craving my attention.”
My face heats instantly, betraying my thoughts, and I hate it.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snap, folding my arms tighter across my chest. “The last thing I want is your attention.”
The way his eyes glint tells me he doesn’t believe a single word of it.
“Then why,” he drawls, his voice maddeningly sure, “are you so flustered?”
“I’m not…” The words tumble out too fast, my cheeks blazing hotter, revealing just how much he affects me. I shoot him a glare, desperate to hide it, but it only makes the corner of his mouth twitch upward in that barely-there smirk.
“God, you’re insufferable,” I bite out, annoyed. “Not everything revolves around you, Landon.”
“Not everything revolves around me?” he repeats, his eyes narrowing just enough to make my stomach twist. He adjusts Liala in his arms, never once breaking that steady gaze. “Funny, Anna, because the way you are reacting now… it certainly feels like your world still spins around me.”
“You’re delusional,” I fire back, but my voice comes out all squeaky and shaky around the edges, because he’s right. And that thought terrifies me. Staying here and playing house with him is twisting everything I thought I had under control.
Before he can push further, Mick walks in.
He greets me with a kiss on the forehead, and I don’t miss the way Landon’s eyes harden instantly.
A slow smirk tugs at my lips. I know exactly how much it bothers him.
Yes, Landon may have played his part well, ignoring me and keeping his emotions in check to torment me, but controlling his jealousy has never been his forte.
Maybe it’s time he feels what I’ve been feeling.
Mick crosses the room to crouch in front of Liala.
“Hey, princess!” he says, tapping her nose, his grin widening as she squeals and reaches for him.
Landon’s jaw ticks, and his arm tightens around Liala just enough to make a point, reminding Mick, in no uncertain terms, exactly whose daughter she is.
“I’m having our father-daughter time,” he bites out, his gaze flicking from Mick to me before snapping back to Mick. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt me.”
Mick lifts his hands. “No worries. You carry on, man. I’m here for Anna anyway.”
He glances over his shoulder at me and flashes a wink, then leans in to press a quick kiss to Liala’s forehead before dropping onto the couch beside me.
I stifle a laugh as I catch the way Landon’s entire frame goes rigid, his eyes darkening with a possessiveness he doesn’t bother to hide as Mick casually drapes an arm around my shoulders.
“Anna, I’ve missed your pancakes. Only you can make them exactly the way I like,” Mick says, pulling my attention to him.
“I just cooked for you yesterday,” I remind him, almost teasing.
“That was yesterday’s breakfast. I already miss them. Why don’t you make me some for dinner?” Mick says, pulling a ridiculous puppy face.
Before I can even reply, Landon speaks. “Princess, we haven’t opened a restaurant where people can drop in anytime with their order.”
I turn to look at him. His eyes stay fixed on Liala in his arms, but it’s clear the jab is meant for Mick.
“He’s my friend,” I say evenly. “And he’s always welcome, especially for my pancakes.”
Landon’s eyes finally snap to mine. “Well then, tell your friend that my house isn’t his diner, and my family isn’t here for his convenience.” His voice is deceptively calm, but the glare he shoots at Mick leaves no doubt as to what he means.
“If that’s a problem, Anna, you can always come back home and cook for me there,” Mick says, completely unfazed by Landon’s glare. He flashes me that boyish grin that only makes Landon’s jaw tick even harder.
“Not happening,” Landon grits out.
I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head at him. “Well, you don’t get a say in it. And I’m going.”
“You sure as hell aren’t going back to his place to cook for him,” he says, his eyes boring into mine, every inch of him daring me to defy him.
But right now, I’m very much in the mood to push him over the edge.
I open my mouth to remind him that he has no hold over me, but Mick beats me to it. “Oh, come on, man. It’s just a dinner. Don’t get all territorial over pancakes.”
“Territorial?” Landon repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Try protective. There’s a difference, and you’d better learn it fast.”
“Well, Landon, we are not together, so my going out shouldn’t bother you. Besides, it’ll give you and Liala some bonding time,” I say, enjoying the way I can see it getting under his skin.
Landon’s eyes never leave mine as he exhales slowly, his voice calm, belying the storm simmering beneath. “You don’t have to go to his house for me to have bonding time with my daughter.”
“I do,” I reply, and before he can get another word out, I turn to Mick. “I’ll be there by seven.”
Mick presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon,” he says, rising to his feet. “I have a short errand but will be home before seven,” he adds, and I nod at him before he heads toward the door.
Once he’s out the door, I rise to my feet, a spark of triumph flickering through me as I head to my room.
“Anna, you’re not going,” Landon’s voice stops me, full of warning. “Not if you don’t want consequences.”
I ignore him, lifting my hand in a breezy little wave and walking away, the smirk on my face widening. After all his ignoring, this small act feels like a victory I can savor—my tiny, perfect rebellion.