The Rejected Wife: Chapter 25

‘Mama!’ Serene dives toward Priscilla, and my heart jumps into my throat.

‘No, Serene—’ I cry out, but she’s made up her mind.

To her credit, Priscilla opens her arms and catches Serene. She wraps her arms about the little girl and brings her close. The two look at each other—Serene with her little chin tipped up and her lips slightly parted, and Priscilla with a slightly shocked look in her warm brown eyes.

Her eyes… How they’ve haunted me. How they made an impact on me when I first met her.

How she instinctively trusted me, and not only because I’d rescued her purse when it’d gotten caught between the doors of the train on the tube. It was how she looked at me with openness.

How she smiled when I took her to that hidden bookshop, and she fawned over her favorite romance novels. How she came home with me. How taken I was with her that I wanted her in my house, under my roof, and yes, in my bed. How I looked into her beautiful face and knew something had shifted. And that first kiss. How it made my soul shatter and my heart stutter. And drained my blood to my groin.

Over the past year, in between the chaos that a baby brought into my life, and during the lulls that any single parent will savor… I allowed myself to think of her. The touch of her skin against mine, her scent in my nostrils, the brush of her hair against my cheek… These thoughts returned over and over, filtering across my mind like an elusive rainbow which felt beautiful but too far away to touch. A mirage, perhaps. A dream. Maybe, I imagined it all?

In between continuing to be CEO of one of the Davenport Group of companies, helping with my uncle Quentin’s security firm, and taking care of Serene, my life is full. Stretched to delivering on the challenge of parenting a little girl who came into my life so suddenly, I’ve tried my best not to regret letting Priscilla go. And failed.

It all came back to me when I saw her at the lunch where Knox announced he was engaged to her. I was furious with him, then relieved when he told me he wasn’t going through with it. A relief… I don’t want to question too closely.

‘Mama?’ Serene touches Priscilla’s cheek. There’s a look of wonder on my daughter’s little features.

‘Oh.’ Priscilla’s gaze grows big. Her chin trembles. She opens her mouth and closes it, seemingly unable to react.

‘Mama.’ Serene nods with satisfaction. There’s confidence in her voice, the kind I’ve never heard before. Then she grabs hold of a strand of Priscilla’s hair and tugs on it.

‘Ow,’ Priscilla says softly, still not looking away from my child.

‘Mama come home.’ Serene squirms in Priscilla’s grasp, and she puts the toddler down. Not that Serene lets go of her.

She grabs Priscilla’s hand and gently tugs, trying to lead her toward the living room.

Priscilla glances down at her with a half-surprised, half-amused kind of expression on her face. I don’t blame her. It summarizes how I feel about what’s happening. Does my little girl have a sixth sense about Priscilla? Is it even possible she remembers her? Or is it simply that she likes the look of Priscilla—which I can’t blame her for. After all, whose daughter is she, hmm? But also… I’m bemused.

‘Papa—’ She looks at Priscilla, then back at me. ‘Mama?’

Priscilla shifts her weight from foot to foot. ‘Oh no, I’m not your mommy, Poppet. I’m⁠—’

‘Your new nanny,’ I cut her off.

Priscilla jerks her chin in my direction. “I… Uh, I’m not sure⁠—”

“Thought you said you wanted the position?’

“I do…” Priscilla glances down at the child, a soft expression on her features. Her forehead is furrowed though, as if she’s confused. From the tension which has crept back into her body, I’m guessing she’s having second thoughts. I need to reassure her. To coax her into accepting the position of nanny. But how? As I’m racking my brain, Serene resolves it.

She pulls on Priscilla’s hand. “Mommy.”

Priscilla’s eyebrows twist. She crouches down so she’s eye level with Serene. “Oh honey, you shouldn’t call me that.”

She shouldn’t. But damn, if that doesn’t spark a coil of warmth in my chest. Damn if it doesn’t make my head spin. This…is a scenario which I dared not think about. It’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid since Serene arrived in my life. And it’s making Priscilla feel uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, she’s never done that before.” I rub the back of my neck. “If you try to dissuade her, it’ll make her more insistent.”

Priscilla straightens, a confused expression on her face. Serene gives her hand another tug. Priscilla holds back—until Serene juts out her lower lip in a little pout. She looks up at her with wide-eyed determination.

Priscilla’s resistance crumbles. A small smile curves her mouth. Total sucker. Just like me. She lets Serene pull her toward the living room.

I lean in her wake and take a deep sniff. Apple blossoms. The scent that’s haunted me all these months. My groin hardens. My chest hurts. Goddamn. She’s here as Serene’s nanny, and I have a hard on for her. How inappropriate is that?

I want more from her. But right now, it’s more important that I find someone to help me with Serene.

I shut the door and follow the two inside. The sight of my little girl’s fingers woven with those of the woman who’s been my personal ghost sends a tremor up my spine. They look like they were meant to be together. My stomach ties itself in knots. My guts churn. But my heart… It relaxes. For the first time since I sent Priscilla away, my skin doesn’t feel too tight.

The hurt in my chest eases. I draw in a breath—and it feels as if oxygen saturates my blood for the first time in months. Enough to make me feel lightheaded.

Serene ignores the living room and the lure of the children’s program playing on the television—a first!—and walks into the kitchen, Priscilla in tow. She heads for her highchair and tries to climb on. Priscilla places her handbag on the counter and tries to help her, but Serene shrugs her off.

She’s been independent for as long as I’ve known her, my little girl. Very aware. Constantly asking questions. Always clued-in to the world around her. She started talking within a month of her arrival.

She picked up vocabulary very quickly and, by the time she was eighteen months, was speaking in almost complete sentences. It meant I could hold conversations with her. Still, she’s only a toddler. She needs a full-time caregiver. And I can’t be by her side twenty-four hours a day. She needs a nanny. Someone smart enough to keep my kid intellectually stimulated. Someone like Priscilla would be a godsend. Assuming she’s not put off by Serene calling her ‘Mama’ and is happy to accept the position.

“It’s dinnertime,” my daughter declares.

I check my watch. Sure enough, it’s five-thirty p.m. My little poppet is a stickler for routine.

I head to the fridge and pull out the simple pasta dish with a tomato sauce I made earlier. I plate it into Serene’s favorite dish, garnishing it with parmesan cheese. Then, I add boiled beans, carrots and corn kernels on a side plate. I place the dishes on the counter in front of Serene, along with her training fork.

“Don’t you want to heat it up in the microwave?” Priscilla asks.

I shake my head. “She prefers it cold.”

Serene looks at Priscilla with expectation on her face.

“You want me to feed you, honey?” Priscilla asks softly.

Serene nods. I raise my eyebrows. Serene is independent enough to want to eat on her own. I can count the number of occasions on which she’s allowed me to feed her since discovering it’s something she can do on her own. Yet here she is, insisting that Priscilla feed her?

Priscilla scoops up some of the pasta and offers it to Serene. Without taking her gaze off Priscilla’s face, Serene accepts the food, chews and swallows, then pops her mouth open again.

I watch with growing amazement as she finishes off the pasta, as well as the vegetables. She’s far better behaved for Priscilla than for me.

“Dessert,” the kid demands.

“Coming up, your highness.” I exchange a glance with Priscilla, who seems amused by my daughter’s imperious manner.

She schools her features into a stern expression and turns to Serene. “What do you say?”

Serene blinks at her. I’m sure she’s going to ignore Priscilla but instead, she surprises me by saying softly, “Please?”

“Well done.” Priscilla flashes Serene a big smile.

Serene seems enchanted by it. Don’t blame you, kiddo. I can barely tear my gaze off Priscilla’s shining features to peel a banana and cut it up.

I place it in a bowl in front of Serene. Once more, Priscilla feeds her. And Serene finishes off every piece of fruit without demur. I bet Priscilla thinks Serene’s such a well-behaved child. And she is, normally. Except for when she gets obstinate about certain ideas.

Serene raises her arms. ‘Bath time.’

She’s never let anyone else but me bathe her. Apparently, that’s going to change?

Priscilla turns to me, a question on her face, hesitation in her eyes. But underneath that is tenderness and bemusement. Seems, as much as Priscilla trusted me the first time we met, my daughter trusts her.

‘Her room is upstairs. The second door on the right. There’s an attached bath.’