“What happened to your finger?” the nurse asks, making conversation as she gathers supplies to soak my finger.
Brody takes a seat on the chair in the corner and Lily crawls into his lap.
“I cut it with a knife.”
“Did it happen at work?” She sets the basin in my lap and begins to unwrap the bloody bandage.
“I guess, technically, yes.” She lowers my hand into the water, and I hiss sharply at the sting. “I’m Lily’s nanny,” I finish explaining, nodding toward her.
“Oh.” The nurse smiles at Brody and Lily sitting together in the chair. “You’re her boss, then?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” he clarifies gruffly, shooting me a look that says he doesn’t appreciate me defining our relationship in boss/employee terms.
“Daddy kissed Mia at the park,” Lily volunteers.
My cheeks are instantly on fire, and Brody chuckles at my embarrassment as I give him a sour look.
“Okay, then.” My nurse suddenly seems hasty to leave. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
“A few years ago.”
“You’re still covered. We’ll soak your finger for about ten minutes, and then the doctor will be in to stitch you up.”
She’s out the door before I can thank her.
“Lily, you shouldn’t talk about kissing,” I gently scold her. “It’s not polite and it makes people uncomfortable.”
“Daddy thinks it’s funny,” she counters, climbing off his lap and onto the bed beside me. I lift my arm so she can snuggle in. “Can I see your finger?” I lift it out of the water and wiggle it at her. “Eww…gross.”
…
I’ve done a lot of thinking and sadly have come to the realization that I need to take the job in Minnesota. It’s late by the time we get home. Brody tucks Lily in, and I can hear the deep rumble of his voice across the hall as he reads her Skippyjon Jones.
Right now, a glass of wine and a hot bath are exactly what I need. I’m sipping my merlot, soaking in a lavender-scented bath while trying to reconcile my decision with my reluctant heart, when the door slowly eases open a little while later.
“Can I come in?”
“Is Lily asleep?”
“Yeah.” He slips inside and quietly closes the door behind him. “I started rubbing her back and she was asleep before El Skippito and his band of Chihuahuas could banish the evil Bobble-ito.”
I smile. “Ahh, The Doghouse… It’s one of her favorite stories. You’re a great dad, Brody.”
He comes over and kneels at the side of the tub. “But not a great boyfriend.”
He says it as a matter of fact, not a question. He’s not fishing for compliments or validation. We’ve clearly reached a crossroad. Maybe it’s best if I don’t say anything at all.
Leaning forward, I fold my arms over my raised knees and rest my cheek on them as I watch him watching me. Sadness reflects in those dark sapphire eyes, and something else…resignation, maybe?
“Looking back, I might not have been the best husband, either.”
Now that I want to defend. No one deserves what Stella put him through. He reaches into the tub and takes my sponge. After adding a dollop of bodywash, he begins to gently scrub my back. I remain silent, letting him talk. This isn’t easy for him.
“I was so caught up in the game and in making a name for myself that I didn’t even realize my own wife was fucking my teammate. I was out of touch and disconnected—with her, with Lily. You have no idea how many times I’ve asked myself if I’d been there for her, been more present as a husband and a father, would she still be alive? Would Lily still have her mother?”
Brody dips the sponge into the water and rinses the suds off my back. I don’t move, don’t speak, afraid if I do, I’ll disrupt his thoughts and he’ll stop talking.
“Ultimately, I get that everyone is responsible for their actions, and what she did was really fucking shitty. I’ve spent the last year of my life hating her, but to what end? It’s easy to cast blame, but have I learned anything from my mistakes?” Exhaling a breath that resonates as a deep sigh, he stands, then bends down and places a kiss on top of my head. “You should take the job, Amelia.”
His words hit me with the force of a physical blow. Oh my God, he knows.
It takes a moment for what he’s saying to fully penetrate my shock. Before I can formulate a response, he walks out, closing the door behind him. When the latch clicks into place my heart shatters. Here I was concerned that if he knew about the job, he’d make me promises he wasn’t prepared to keep, when the truth of it is, he was never going to fight for me.
…
Brody
I’ve done a lot of hard things in my life, and had to make some difficult choices, but by far this was one of the toughest. Before the night I found Amelia’s letter, I hadn’t thought about Stella’s sacrifice in years, and maybe that’s because I didn’t want to shoulder part of the blame for what had happened.
When I got drafted by the Patriots, Stella and I were living in New York. She had a successful career as a high-end fashion designer and was traveling the world. She was happy. We were in love. When I had to move to New England, I asked her to come with me. I knew what she’d be giving up to chase my dreams instead of her own, but I was selfish and naive. I believed in love then, and I’d convinced myself that I could make her happy. I was wrong.
I can’t stop thinking about the similarity between Stella and Amelia’s situation. I’ve already had one woman give up her career for me, and it killed her. I can’t let Amelia do it, too. I’ve been down this road before. I know how the story ends, and it nearly destroyed me the first time.
So, I place one foot in front of the other. It takes everything I’ve got to walk away, but if she stays, it’ll only be a matter of time before she begins to resent me, just like Stella did.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brody
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Not awesome when today I’ve got the ESN interview followed by the most important game of the season. It’s the last one before the playoffs, and there’s a lot riding on me keeping my shit together.
Tossing back the covers, I take my time getting dressed. It’s not that I give a shit what I look like for this interview, but the truth is, I’m not ready to face Amelia yet. How will I look her in the eye and pretend this isn’t killing me? That I’m okay with her leaving. Because I’m one-hundred-percent not. But it’s the right thing for her—for her career. She’s worked too hard to give up now. Steeling my nerve, I cinch my tie, grab my suit jacket, and head downstairs.
As I walk into the kitchen, movement catches my eye. I’m surprised to see Julia sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
Her gaze cuts to me, and she takes a sip. “Oh, you know, I’m here to tell you you’re an idiot.”
“Nice to see you, too.” I shuffle over on my way to the coffee pot and plant a kiss on her cheek. “Why are you really here?” Pulling a mug from the cupboard, I began to fill it with coffee.
“Amelia called me last night and asked me to watch Lily. Said she needed a few days off. What did you do, Brody? She sounded upset but wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
“Shit.” I place the carafe back on the hotplate. “I’ll go talk to her.” As I leave the kitchen to head back upstairs, Julia’s voice stops me cold.
“She’s not here, Brody. She left an hour ago.”
Fuck. “Do you know where she went?” I glance at the clock, calculating how much time before I need to leave for my interview.
“She didn’t say. I’m sorry.”
Panic grips my chest like a vice. I can’t breathe. “I need to call her.” My sister watches me pace the living room as I wait for Amelia to pick up. When the call rolls over to voicemail, I growl a nasty curse and call her again. I never wanted to hurt her, and yet that seems to be exactly what I’ve done. Can’t she see that I’m doing this for her? I need her to understand that. The
call rolls over a second time. A third time. “Fuck.”
“Brody, come sit down and talk to me.”
Julia has been the one constant in my life that I can always count on. She’s seen me at my best and my worst, cheered for me in my success, and cried with me in my sorrow. She also tolerates none of my bullshit, so when my sister tells me to talk to her, that pretty much means I shut up and listen.
I pocket my cell and loosen my tie because the fucker feels like it’s strangling me. Or maybe it’s my panic over the fact that Amelia has left without a word and our last conversation consisted of me telling her to go back to Minnesota. Albeit for her sake, but I fear she didn’t take the gesture as it was meant. I head into the kitchen and sit across from Julia. My sister pins me with a pointed stare, letting the silence hang between us. I don’t know if she’s formulating her thoughts or trying to torture me. Maybe both.
“Have you told Amelia you’re in love with her?”
I haven’t told anyone that, including my sister, but it just goes to show how well she knows me. “It’s not that simple, Julia.”
“Yes, it is. Tell her you’re in love with her.”
“She was offered a job in Minnesota.”
“She told you about it, then?”
“No, I found a letter offering her the position, but she obviously told you about it.” Why the fuck wouldn’t she tell me about this?
“Brody, Amelia didn’t tell you about the job because she didn’t want to push you into making a commitment to her for the wrong reason. She felt like she would be giving you an ultimatum and didn’t want to put you in that position. All you need to do is tell her you love her, and she’d stay.”
“And instead I told her to take the job.” Fuck.
“You what? Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s the job she’s always wanted. It’s a great opportunity for her career, and I didn’t want to hold her back.”
“Yeah, it is a great opportunity, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t great opportunities for her here. You just need to make her a better offer.”
“Like I did for Stella?” I fire back. “She gave up her dream job for me, and she was miserable. She began to resent me and my success, hate that she was tied down by Lily and my schedule. And look how that ended.”
“Amelia is not Stella, Brody. Even as Lily’s nanny, she’s a better mother to that little girl than Stella ever was. Surely, you can see that. But Lily doesn’t need a nanny, she needs a mother. Brody, Amelia loves you, and she loves Lily, but you’re going to have to take a chance on her. You’re going to have to take a chance on love again, or you’re going to spend your life alone and miserable. And you’re not the only one who’s going to suffer for it. You’re not being selfish if you ask her to stay; you’re being stupid if you don’t.”
Fuck, she’s right. What if I’m too late? The pit in the bottom of my stomach is telling me I’ve lost her. I replay yesterday from Amelia’s perspective, and I feel like a total douchebag. First, I made her feel like I’m using her as a diversion for this fucking interview, then I told her we’re “having fun” when she asked me to define our relationship, all because I was too big of a coward to admit I’m in love with her. Then, to top it all off, I tell her to take the job in Minnesota. That’s three strikes and I’m out.
No wonder she left and won’t take my calls. What the fuck am I going to do? I’ve got to leave, or I’ll be late for this interview, and then I’ve got to play one of the most important games of my career, and all I want to do is see Amelia and tell her I’m sorry, tell her I love her. But she’s not answering her phone. Where the hell did she go?
I pull my cell from my pocket and try to call her one last time. It immediately rolls over to voicemail.
As if Julia can read my mind, she reaches across the table and takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Amelia loves you, Brody. You can fix this.”
God, I hope so.
I send a quick text to Amelia and hope she sees it. All I can do now is pray I’m not too late.
…
Amelia
I shut down my phone when it goes off for the third time. “Sorry.” I tell the lady behind the counter when she impatiently arches her brow. She finishes processing my ticket, prints my boarding pass, and then hands the papers to me. Thankfully, there was still a seat available on the flight to Minneapolis. It doesn’t leave for four hours, but I’ll wait. I decided it would be best if I accepted the job in person. That way I can fill out the paperwork and submit my licensing information.
After a tearful, sleepless night, I couldn’t face Brody this morning, and maybe that makes me a coward, but I don’t care. Where my heart had beat joy and hope for our future, all that remains is a painful burning in my chest. I don’t know how Brody found out about the job offer, but I feel like a fool because there I was, worried he’d make me promises he wasn’t prepared to keep so I would stay, and it never once occurred to me that he’d tell me to go.
How could I have read our relationship so wrong? I’d convinced myself he was falling in love with me. In hindsight, maybe all I was doing was projecting my own feelings onto him. I gave myself false hope by believing that Brody could change. I was a fool to think I could fix him, that I could heal his broken heart. He warned me that he wouldn’t let himself love me, but I wouldn’t listen. Well, I’m listening now, and I hear him loud and clear.
I need a few days to pull myself together. I don’t want Lily to see me like this. Every time I think of her, tears burn my eyes and I’m so filled with regret I can hardly breathe against the suffocating weight crushing my chest. I haven’t just lost Brody. I’ve lost a family. Never having had a real one before, I didn’t realize what I was missing. Now I wonder how I’m going to move on. Brushing aside the tears that speed down my cheeks, I swallow back my grief as I wait in line for security.
Once I get past check in, I quickly find my gate and settle in for the wait. Lost in thought, I don’t know how much time passes before Brody’s voice pulls me from my musing. A rush of adrenaline comes with a surge of hope. For the briefest moment, I think he’s tracked me down to ask me to stay. It takes only a second to realize his voice is coming from the TV. I look up and my heart clenches at the sight of him walking onto the stage. The ESN interview…
He’s wearing a tailored suit that looks amazing, but he hates it. He doesn’t want to be there, but you’d never guess it by the easy swagger of his gait.
He takes a seat across from the two co-hosts, and they spend the next several minutes talking about his stats, the season, and his future with the Browns. Then the questions turn personal, just like he thought they would.
It’s physically painful to sit here and watch this. I just can’t. Grabbing my suitcase, I stand to leave as I hear one of the hosts ask him, “Many fans are wondering who that woman with your daughter was.”
I quicken my steps to get away, but each gate is broadcasting ESN—not surprising since the game will start after the interview and it’s the final one that will determine if the Browns make it to the playoffs.
Brody’s voice echoes through the terminal as he tells the hosts of ESN Live, “That woman is my girlfriend, Amelia. She’s the most incredible woman I know, and I’m in love with her.”
My legs freeze at his confession, and someone bumps into me from behind. I murmur a distracted apology as I stand in the middle of the hallway, heart hammering, staring up at the TV as crowds of people funnel around me.
Brody murmurs to himself, but the microphone he’s wearing easily carries his deep husky voice over the air, “God, I hope she’s watching this.”
The hosts grow silent, their expressions lighting with anticipation as they wait to hear what Brody will say next. It’s as if they sense that whatever it is, their ratings are about to skyrocket.
“Amelia—” He looks into the camera and our gazes lock. I can’t move. Standing there, I wait to hear what he has to say that’s so important he’s
chosen a live television platform to do it. Brody values privacy, and it’s costing him a lot to do this. “Amelia, I love you. I should have told you before now, but better late than never, right? I warned you I wasn’t good at this.” He takes a moment as if to compose his thoughts and my breath stalls in my lungs as I wait for him to speak.
“When Stella died, a part of me died with her—my hope, my belief in love. I was broken. I didn’t think it was possible, but you put me back together. I’m sorry that it took so long for me to realize it. I didn’t want you sacrificing your career for me, so I convinced myself that I should let you go, but I can’t. Amelia, don’t take the job in Minnesota. Stay here with me and Lily.” My heart is pounding, my eyes burning with unshed tears as I watch Brody get up from the chair, reach inside his pocket and pull out a small black box.
I gasp as he gets down on one knee, opens the lid, and presents it to the camera. The lens focuses in on a square diamond solitaire, framed with sapphires the color of Brody’s eyes. Panning back to the gorgeous man kneeling on the stage, I’m frozen in shock when he says, “Amelia Renshaw, will you marry me?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brody
I walk into the locker room and a chorus of cheers erupts. Penner intercepts me with a shit-eating grin and gives me a back-slapping hug.
“Holy shit, way to step up and be a baller.”
“Don’t congratulate me yet,” I tell him. “She hasn’t said yes.”
She hasn’t said anything. Amelia might not have even seen the interview. I sent her a text and asked her to watch it, then called my friend who owns a jewelry store uptown and asked him to meet me there. I was almost late to the interview.
“Of course, she’ll say yes,” he boasts with confidence I wish I had.
But Penner doesn’t know how bad I fucked things up with Amelia. After talking to Julia and looking at this from a different perspective, it’s clearer than ever that I made a terrible mistake by letting her go. If I didn’t do something to win her back, I’d lose her for sure.
The Nanny Rules Page 17