Page 11 of My Secret Valentine

I stare at the message, something twisting in my chest. It's the kind of opportunity I dreamed about in college. It’s a real job in publishing, a chance to use my degree. A way to prove to my mother that I'm not wasting my potential.

“Earth to Lainey?” Sarah waves her hand in front of my face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just got this.” I show her the text.

“Oh.” She sits back, studying me. “Are you going to tell Steve?”

“Tell him what? That I got a job offer? I haven't even decided if I'm interested.”

“Aren't you?” Her tone is gentle but knowing. “It's what you always wanted.”

“That was before.” Before Maddie's morning hugs and bedtime stories. Before late-night conversations with Steve in the kitchen. Before I knew what it felt like to belong somewhere, even if I'm not supposed to.

The bell above the door chimes and we both look up to see Claire's mother entering. She spots me immediately, her expression unreadable as she makes her way to our table.

“Lainey,” she says softly. “Do you have a minute?”

Sarah squeezes my hand once more before gathering her things. “Call me later?”

I nod, my throat too tight for words. Margaret slides into Sarah's vacated seat, ordering tea when the waitress comes by. We sit in silence until it arrives, steam curling between us like a barrier.

“I want to tell you about Claire,” she finally says, and my heart stutters. This is likely a conversation I don’t want to have. “About how she made Steve smile. How she brought light into that big, empty house. How she gave him Maddie, the greatest gift of his life.”

“Mrs. Harrison… um, I’m not sure?—”

“Margaret, please.” She stirs honey into her tea with precise movements. “What I'm trying to say is that I see that light coming back. In both of them. And those photos, well, don’t let them get to you.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “They don't show anything inappropriate. They show a family.”

The word hits me like a physical blow. “I'm just the nanny.”

“Are you?” Her eyes are kind but searching. “Because if that's true, if that's all you want to be, then maybe it would be better to leave now. Before Maddie gets too attached. Before Steve does, too.”

She shouldn’t have finished that sentence. She didn't need to.

“I don't want to hurt anyone,” I whisper.

“Sometimes we hurt people by leaving just as much as by staying.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out an envelope. “These are all the photos Jenny's mother took. I convinced her to delete the originals. What you and Steve do with this information is up to you.”

She stands, leaving money for her untouched tea. At the door, she turns back. “Sunday dinner is at six. The invitation is always open, if you want it.”

I sit there long after she's gone, the envelope heavy in my hands, Emma's text burning a hole in my phone. Through the window, I can see the mountains disappearing behind gathering clouds. Another storm coming.

My phone buzzes again. Steve:Can we talk? Maddie's at a playdate until 5.

Everything in me wants to say yes. To go back to that quiet moment in the garden room before Margaret arrived with the photos. To find out what would have happened if she hadn't interrupted.

But maybe this is my chance to do the right thing. To leave before I break three hearts instead of just my own.

Actually, there's something I need to tell you too.

His response is immediate:I'll be in the garden room.

I gather my things, the envelope of photos tucked safely in my bag, Emma's job offer weighing on my mind. The walk back to the house has never felt longer.

The garden room is bright despite the approaching storm, snow starting to fall outside the glass walls. Steve stands at the windows, his back to the door, shoulders tense under his sweater.

“Lainey,” he says without turning around. “I need to tell you something.”

“Me first,” I say quickly, before I lose my nerve. “I got a job offer.”

---