Lawfully Wedded Nanny (BWWM)

“Dr. Benson asked me to marry him,” came the soft voice. The words were quiet, almost reverent, spoken into the stillness of the oak-paneled office. But to Richard Abbott, they landed like a bullet to the chest. “I said yes.” Seconds dragged. Richard sat frozen, struggling to rein in the flood of thoughts racing through his mind. “Congratulations.” The word left his mouth before he could stop it — hollow, mechanical. It wasn’t what he felt. Not even close. For three years — since his wife’s untimely death — he and his two children had leaned heavily on Monet. She’d been the steady hand in their chaos, the warmth in their cold days. And now, she was leaving. “Thank you, Mr. Abbott,” she murmured. For the first time in the past ten minutes, Richard really looked at her—not over her, not past her. At her. She was subdued. Not glowing with excitement, not crushed with regret. Just... calm. Their relationship had always been professional — nothing more, nothing less. No warmth. No blurred lines. Just mutual respect. “Are you okay, Monet?” Warm chestnut eyes flicked up to his, full of something soft and scared — and then quickly looked away. But he saw it. Fear. She stood, crossing the office to the door. The hallway light poured in behind her, casting a golden halo around her braids and cloaking her in a gentle, almost angelic glow. “Today was the happiest and saddest day of my life, Mr. Abbott.” And then she was gone. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing him in silence. Richard exhaled — a deep, soul-heavy sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. That simple announcement—the kind that should have brought joy—had left him hollow instead. Numb. Monet had been more than help. She’d filled the cracks in his family’s broken foundation. Smoothed the sharp edges. And now she was leaving. He’d seen it in her eyes — she felt the weight of her decision, too. But this was just the beginning.Schedules would change. Routines would break. He’d have to explain this to the kids. To Carter. Damn it. “What the hell?” He shot to his feet, anger surging now, replacing the numbness that had anchored him seconds ago. Monet was a help. A hired hand. Yes, she’d been good with the children — too good, his conscience taunted — but help was replaceable. He had no choice. He would replace her. Even if he didn’t want to.