“I don’t want you to leave,” he says.
I frown. “But…”
“You are the first person Willow has ever defended to me.”
“What?’
“I saw you today, I was watching as the three of you drove around like maniacs with music playing.”
I get a vision of what we must have looked like from a distance. “God,” I mutter.
“You seemed so carefree.”
I stay silent.
“It’s the happiest I have seen them in a very long time.”
I tear up. Not for me but for him. What must it feel like to never see your own children happy?
“My children have had nine nannies in two years.” He bites his bottom lip. “Although your nannying technique is very…” he raises his eyebrows, “unorthodox.”
I smirk.
“I do have to admit you seem to be getting through to Willow like nobody else ever has.”
“She’s just misunderstood,” I tell
