Page 67 of The Accidental Nanny

I shrug. "No concern of yours."

She turns around and walks out of the house, slamming the door.

“She has another daughter?” That was the most shocking part of all.

“Yes. I thought Kelly had died, or so Julia told me. I did some digging. Something wasn’t sitting right with me, and that’s how I found out. I’m sorry. I don’t want her ever seeing the children again.” He kisses my head. "Sorry you had to meet her."

"I'm a poorer person for it," I joke. "But it's okay. And for what it's worth..." I pretend to straighten his work shirt. "I think you're incredible in bed and you please me just fine."

Alex

I was ignoring Julia’s calls at work, but I didn’t think she would show up at the house. The last location I had for her was the south of France. I’m seething, despite Gemma’s best efforts to calm me. I pace the room as Gemma is trying to talk to me, but I’m ignoring her. A strong drink is placed in front of me.

“Looks like you need it.”

Grabbing the glass, I down the warm liquid; it burns the back of my throat. She grabs the bottle, pouring me another one.

“I can’t be drunk in the middle of the day.”

“One more won’t hurt,” she says, placing the drink down.

“This is forty-year-old scotch.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Three children. How do you walk out on three children?” I’m in a dark place.

All I can think of is how I was so blind to it all. All Julia ever wanted was a comfortable life. She never had to work or worry about money, my parents were always on hand to help… the bitch. I pour myself another glass. Gemma goes to remove it, but I snatch it out of her hand. I have one more, before I leave the house.

Sitting alone at the bar, I don’t know how much I’ve had to drink. The pub is quiet. Raising my eyebrows, I get the bar woman’s attention.

“I’m cutting you off. You’ve been drinking for hours.”

Did she say hours? I take my phone out of my pocket to find several voice messages and missed calls from Gemma; it’s almost ten.

Going through my contacts, I call Darren. He doesn’t answer, so I leave a drunken message. It’s almost closing time when the door opens and Patrick walks in.

“Where’s Darren?” My words are slurred and almost indecipherable.

“Let’s get you home.” He doesn’t comment on the state I’m in.

Getting into his car, I can already feel myself wanting to throw up, as we start to move.

“How did you even get into this mess? This isn’t you,” Patrick asks me.

“Julia.” It’s all I can manage.

“Sorry it’s me and not Darren, he’s working. He messaged me when he heard your message.”

I’m trying not to throw up in his car, so I open the window to let some fresh air in.

“Need me to pull over?” he asks, but I wave my hand at him. I need to get home.

“I’m going to ask Darren to marry me. I want your blessing. It would mean a lot. I know you don’t like me, but I love him.”

I’m struggling to form any words, but I have to try.

“I don’t hate you. We’re just different.”