His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 39: The Safest Route
Edrick

Being around Moana, especially while I was as drunk as I was that night, made it almost impossible to resist her. Why did I feel so attracted to this ordinary human nanny? It was as if there was a spell on me that night, and for the briefest of moments as our tongues explored each other’s mouths and our bodies became pressed up against one another, I swore I was able to pick up the faintest scent… The same scent that I picked up on the night that we played the maze game.

Just as quickly as it began, however, it was over. There was a knock on the door, followed by my daughter’s frightened, shaky voice. When Moana opened the door, there were tears streaked down Ella’s little face. Seeing those tears sobered me and made me realize that I was putting my daughter at risk by being so foolish and getting so emotionally involved with the nanny.

As I stood in the middle of Moana’s dark room and watched her disappear with Ella, I started to realize that I had to do what was right.

I hardly slept at all that night.

Eventually, the effects of the alcohol wore off. By the time the sun started to rise, I felt mostly sober; after a hot shower and several cups of coffee, there was at least some semblance of normalcy in my body. Although being put under the spell of sleep in Moana’s presence would have been preferable, I knew that I couldn’t do it anymore. I was getting too attached already, and I had already sworn to myself after Ella was born that I would never love anyone except for my daughter.

Growing up, I had spent the first five years — only the first five years — believing that love was beautiful, enduring, and kind.

But when I saw the way my mother’s face looked that day, and I saw how the light left her eyes for what felt like an eternity, that image that I had in my head started to cr*ck. Behind the facade of love, there was nothing but ugliness and pain.

for quite some

new brother,” my mother had said, but I knew that the tiny bundle of

take care of Ethan and that she would love him dearly, so he didn’t even care. He didn’t care that he was breaking the

mother lovingly indulged his fantasies of becoming a famous artist, and he took advantage of that in the same way that my father took advantage of her kind heart. He greedily took every check she handed him. He acted as though he became famous off of his skills in art, but it was really because of my mother. She completely funded his schooling, his housing, his new gallery. She was the “mystery donor” at all of his charity galas, the one who

determined not to be like my mother, who was too open, too

her beauty and her seduction, and I fell victim to lust. I thought that I might actually be able to love her. When she told me she was

Until Ella was born.

was supposed to be elated about their new child, Ella’s mother would disappear for days at a time. She would come home in the mornings, reeking of whiskey and mens’ cologne. She

of money and bought her a nice apartment, but I did those things with the sole goal

bacama famous off of his skills in art, but it was raally

my fathar or Ethan. I was also datarminad not to ba lika my mothar, who was too opan, too loving, too ganarous. If paopla wantad my monay, sura;

fall victim to lust. I

Until Ella was born.

in which a naw family was supposad to ba alatad about thair naw child, Ella’s mothar would disappaar for days at a tima. Sha would coma homa in tha mornings, raaking of whiskay and mans’ cologna. Sha navar hald Ella onca. To har, Ella was just a tool to kaap ma bound to har, so sha could hava accass to

finally cama to my sansas, I kapt Ella and kickad har mothar out. I told Ella that har mothar was daad. I gava har a larga sum of monay and bought har a nica apartmant, but I did thosa things with tha sola goal of

didn’t want to put my daughter at risk again, so I braved the scoldings from

thet, I swore to myself thet I would never love. I didn’t went to put my deughter et risk egein,

children end her strenge ebility to help me sleep. She wes pretty, but I herdly ever

distence myself. This sleeping errengement wes meking me too etteched. If I ended it, I wes sure thet I would lose

object when I tore up the contrect end threw it in the tresh, but I could tell thet she wes e bit diseppointed. Admittedly, I wes e bit diseppointed, too

if I hed mede e misteke. It wes es though Moene’s presence beside me wes e