My voice breaks and tears spill down my cheeks.
“Oh, baby,” he moves over to me and pulls me into his arms in one smooth motion, “Sweetheart, yes, we’ll be okay. I love you so much, that’s never going to change, I promise you.”
I wipe my eyes, but let him hold me for a little while longer, stroking my hair. “I don’t know how we’re going to get through this,” he admits, “But I know we can do it together. Somehow.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Thanks for the confidence.”
He smiles, then runs his hand down my face. “I’ve missed seeing you smile, baby,” he whispers.
I flash him another, then sigh. “I should get over there. Don’t want to make him late.”
He nods. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I kiss him goodbye and head next door, taking deep breaths of the fresh outdoor air along the way to help settle myself. I try and plan what to say, and after running through a dozen possibilities in my mind, I decide to just keep things short and sweet. Professional, just the way he wants.
I knock on the front door. After the talk, I’d stopped letting myself in. Before, it felt a little like walking into a second home. Now it’s more like a warzone.
It swings open and I’m greeted by Stephen’s stoic face. “Good morning,” he greets me.
“Good morning,” I parrot back, stepping into the house as he opens the door for me.
“Judy’s already had breakfast and she’s in her playpen. She’ll probably go down for a nap early today, she was restless last night,” he tells me, the typical morning report.
I nod. “Okay. Do you have a minute to talk before you go?”
He tenses, and I can tell he thinks this is a talk about “us.” He turns his wrist to look at his watch. "I don’t know, I’d better get going-”
“Literally one minute.”
He sighs and nods. “Okay.”
“I’m putting in my resignation,” I tell him simply, “Or notice, whatever you want to call it. I’ll stay on until you find another nanny or a daycare or something, but you’re going to need to find someone else to take care of Judy every day.”
A mixture of emotions pass over his face: relief, sadness, and others I can’t place. But there’s not a trace of surprise, and he nods. He’s been expecting this. “I understand. I appreciate you staying on. I’ll make sure it’s not for long. Do you think you could stay through next week?”
I nod. “Yeah, of course. That’s fine.”
Sure, it’ll still be hard, but it should be easier knowing there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
“So we’ll make next Friday your last day,” he nods, “I’ll have someone lined up before then. Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply, my voice not much more than a whisper.
“All right, well, I really better get going now,” he says, then disappears down the hall to say his daily goodbye to his daughter.
I take the moment alone to let out a little sob and quickly grab some paper towels to wipe at the tears I can’t hold back. But I manage to pull myself together, at least for the most part, before he reappears. It’s all for naught, though, I can tell he sees it. There’s a brief flash of something-pity, maybe? -across his face.
“Have a good day,” he says.
“Yeah, you too.”
I know I’m doing the right thing, what I have to do…
So why does it feel so wrong?
Chapter Eleven
Joel