Nanny and the Alpha Daddy

#Chapter 218: On Your Side

Moana

The medicine that Selina gave me must have made me sleep for a long time, because it was bright outside when I finally woke up. When I rolled over to glance at my clock with my bleary eyes, I saw that it was eight o’clock in the morning already even though it felt as though I only slept for five minutes. Yawning, I rolled back onto my back and suddenly felt a comforting presence beside me. It was Edrick.

Moving slowly in order not to wake him, I slowly rolled over to face Edrick and couldn’t help but smile. He was sleeping soundly beside me. I hadn’t been dragged off to a psychiatric facility in my sleep; at least, not yet. Slowly, his eyes cracked open and he turned to face me. His hand came up and stroked my hair for a moment before he pulled me in tightly and let me bury my face in his chest.

We stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other. I breathed in his scent in big, deep breaths, and felt myself relax a little more with each one. When we finally pulled away, I felt a little bit better. But the concerned look on Edrick’s face made my comfort turn into more worry.

“Selina told you, didn’t she?” I asked quietly, feeling my heart start to race as I started to fear the worst.

Edrick slowly nodded. Instantly, I felt tears begin to well up in my tired eyes. “Are you going to send me away to a mental institution?”

into his chest. “I wouldn’t do that unless there was absolutely no other choice, and even then it would take a lot to convince

slowly floated back into my groggy mind, I felt more and more guilty and afraid by the horrible images that I drew when I was unconscious. While many of the images were just violent nonsense, depicting things like blood and gore, the one picture that really stuck in my mind was the picture of

looked up at Edrick, too, I could tell that he had seen the drawing of the knife. He seemed to have a puzzled expression on his face, as though he was also

quietly, sitting up and rubbing

and leaned his back against the headboard of my bed. When I looked over at him, I saw that he was repeatedly running his hand through his dark hair and had a

a picture of it somewhere and forgot. If you’re

was right; stressing over it wouldn’t help any. Sighing, I reached over to my bedside table to get a drink of water, and as I did my hand ran across the note that the doctor left for me with the therapist’s name

gave

told me. Do you want to see that

in more ways than one. Maybe this therapist could help me realize that the

said, still holding the

you to talk to someone with experience,” he said. “I won’t force you to do it,