The Billionaire's Nanny

Tears

My eyes fluttered open at the first crack of dawn. Heavy, groggy, tired, swollen, one look at me, and anyone could tell that I had spent the whole night crying. I pushed myself up, managing to hold back from falling off Celine's high bed where I had found the comfort to drown myself in my sorrows.

After the long drive, I gave the driver a handsome tip to drop me off on the sidewalk, telling him I would go back home on my own. He seemed skeptical but obliged after I gave him another heavy wad of bills from my purse. Bribery had never been a way of mine, but tonight there was no zest for virtue, just the aching, overwhelming need to getaway.

An hour's walk brought me to the one place, the one person whose shoulder was always ready to carry the heavy brunt of my tears.

Without knocking, I pushed the door front door open, thankful that I had walked in before she and Alexander went beyond the kissing stage. I already felt guilty for ruining one happy occasion tonight, I was not about to ruin my best friend's make-out session. Without sparing them both a glance, I threw the Louboutins over my shoulder—I took them off the minute I climbed down the Limousine and walked barefooted all the way here, I was too miserable to care about all the people looking at me like I had just been stood up at a wedding alter—and made my way to her bedroom.

"Don't stop because of me, I'm just going to borrow your bed and bedroom for the night C," I said as I walked past them, ignoring their stunned expressions. "goodnight."

After locking the door, I threw my purse and shoes somewhere, too hazed to care if either of them broke, though I doubted the Louboutins would break on the bedroom floor. I pulled the pins holding my hair and sighed as it fell over my shoulders. And then I collapsed with my stomach to the mattress, shutting my eyes and trying to find the solace of dreamless sleep to push my mind away from all the thoughts—painful thoughts—dancing from one corner of my brain to the other.

But of course, that could not be attained without the damn tears.

I adjusted my sight to the rays of light that crept into the room slowly, and like it was waiting all along to crush me, the memories flooded back to my memory.

I had a sister. She was an evil witch, the mother of the two kids I had come to adore most on the planet, and the wife of the man I could not live without.

It sounded like I really was the monster in this story. Tearing a happy family apart.

Only. They were never a happy family. Lucas did not love Sarah anymore, the kids did not even know her, and I was the one his family supported and wanted for Lucas. I was good for him, we were good for each other, perfect in our own little way.

So why was I sitting here, o the other side of town away from him, leaving him as worried as I imagined he would have been since last night. Why was I not delving back in his arms, kissing his lips, and reassuring him that Sarah was not worth tearing us apart?

Because he lied to you.

The reminder ripped open the wound in my heart and I found myself sniffling back tears with no use.

It was not the fact that Lucas was still married to Sarah that hurt—okay that part hurt a little—it was the fact that he still kept this from me after all we had been through in the last few days.

He had every chance to tell me.

If he had told me once if he had just...

There was no need to think about it now. I already heard it from someone else. The worst person possible.

I wanted to gather my things together, and go back to him right now and hug him and forgive him and act like last never happened. But I was scared. Damn terrified.