The Nanny

41. Ash

I've started to hate Sundays. Each one drops another week off the calendar, and Paige and Joey's departure looms large. We haven't talked about it very much since Imogen turned up a few weeks ago, but the clock ticks in the back of my brain. Loud and annoying. I fucking hate it. Two months. The thought makes my chest feel like it's going to cave in.

I haven't made a plan or secured a place to go. My head has been firmly rooted in the sand. Paige and Joey aren't leaving, and life will continue on as it is. That's my sand, and I love every grain of it.

Except the sand is washing away, and I need to face that soon or I'll be in exactly the position I've been trying to avoid—homeless.

When I drive into Toby and Flora's driveway, Imogen is leaving the house. She hovers by the door of her car, and she seems to be waiting for me. We've chatted a bit over text, but it's been all logistics or things to do with Chloe. Any time she's tried to make it more personal, I haven't responded. Even if her reason for leaving might have been justified, I can't get past the way she did it. To leave like that, to take over a year to get in touch, to approach a reunion in the way she did—behind my back. All of it twists my gut.

"Need something?" I ask after I've climbed out of the driver's seat.

"Can we talk?"

"We're talking now." I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, and I hunch my shoulders against the chill in the early February air.

"I've been seeing Chloe supervised on Sundays like you wanted for a while now."

My jaw clenches because I don't even know exactly how long it's been or whether her parents had the sense to keep an eye on her before I discovered what they were doing.

"I was hoping you might consider lettin' me see her another day during the week? Maybe with you? I could cook dinner one night, and we could eat together at my flat. Spend the evening together."

Warning bells blare in my head. The logical thing would be to suggest Saturday afternoons instead, but those are sacred. Paige and I spend the whole day together from the minute we wake up until the minute our heads hit the pillows in her bedroom. Swimming, football, nap time shenanigans, take away. Predictable, maybe, but oh so good.

"I don't reckon that's a good idea." I squint at her and clench my hands in my pockets.

"She's leaving, Ash. Isn't she? Going back to America? Even if your dependence on her made any sense other than financial, you won't be with her forever." She steps closer to me.

I don't move, and I don't contradict her. She hasn't got a clue what I've got with Paige, and I'm not about to set her straight. I hate talking about Paige with any of them. Paige is nothing like Imogen, which means none of them understand why I'm with Paige.

She places her hand on my chest and stares up at me. It's a look that used to slay me. The 'take me to bed' gaze that I so rarely got from her. Instead of being enticed, the move coupled with her come hither expression feels staged, artificial, and desperate.

"I know what I had with you, Ash, and I won't make the same mistakes. The family unit that you want, I want it too."

Of all the things she could have said, that one is like an arrow to my heart. Better than anyone, she knows how much I've craved stability and security. With her, I had it for a long time. I might have been missing a lot of other things, but we never broke up.

"Immy, we're not the same people we were." My voice is rough.

"Which is good, isn't it? We won't make the same mistakes. I went to therapy to beat the pills. I've got tools in my toolbox now."