Daphne Collins, a 21-year-old aspiring artist who is attempting to make her way in the world of the bustling New York City. Though when a new nannying job gets offered to her, she takes it, hopeful that it'll give her the extra money and nudge to ma...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⚠️TW: Mentions of abuse and rape
Chapter Song - Gilded Lily by Cults
"Can I have some more Ice cream daddy?" Hallie asks me, wide eyes pleading up at me.
Normally I'm a sucker for those big puppy eyes that Hallie and Bridie do - Daphne is much better at restraining herself from them - but Hallie has already had an extra scoop tonight and I don't need her being high on sugar.
"No sweet pea," I shake my head 'no' and she pouts.
Grabbing her empty bowl, I put it into the filled sink covered with soap suds as I continue washing the dirty dishes from dinner - Daphne standing next to me and wiping the clean dishes dry. Her vanilla and lavender scent drawing me closer unconsciously to her warm presence.
"I'm proud, you finally restrained from her puppy eyes," Daphne comments and I chuckle lightly.
"It was difficult," I reply. Those puppy eyes never fail to make me melt into a puddle, especially if they jut their bottom lip out and grab my leg, giving me a leg hug.
"I get it, it is hard to say no sometimes," Daphne says.
I shake my head. "It seems so easy for you," I comment as Daphne doesn't even hesitate most of the time when Hallie or Bridie try to beg her with their big puppy dog eyes.
She shrugs. "I had a younger brother to take care of, he would always plead me for more lollies or dessert. I guess I built up a restraint to it," she says.
I frown. "How come you took care of your younger brother?" I ask her. I know there's a lot about her past and childhood she hasn't told me and maybe she won't tell me. But I want to at least make her know she can tell me, because the one thing I would never do is judge her and I know she thinks I may because we're from different economic backgrounds.
She hesitates. "Uh, my mum was a single mum for a big chunk of our childhood, so she was out working majority of the time. I had to step up and take care of my brother," she tells me, and my heart breaks for her.
Not only did she have to grow up quickly at such a young age to help her brother, but also the fact her mother would've worked so incredibly hard to take care of two children.
I don't know her mother or brother - yet - but I'm not going to lie and say I'm not curious about the pieces of her past she's not telling me. I also know I won't force her to tell me something incredibly personal for her, I just want to know what those nightmares she has are about. The walls aren't that thick, so I can hear when she gets up in the middle of the night startled by one of her nightmares.
I nod. "I'm sorry that you had to endure that at a young age," I tell her, and she smiles softly.
"Thanks," she mutters and we fall back into a comfortable silence, finishing the dishes. I would use the dish washer, but I like the time alone I get to talk to her when we wash dishes - its warmly intimate.
