Page 31 of Nolan

"We don't have to talk about it now," I interrupt gently.

"I want to," he insists. "We keep having near misses, and I keep just letting it drop without ever explaining."

My breath catches. "Then why don't you explain?"

"I'm her father and you're her nanny, and I'm terrified of screwing up the best thing that's happened to us since you walked into our lives." His voice is raw with honesty. "But tonight, when Ashlynn was burning up and I didn't know what to do, you were the only person I wanted to call. The only one I trusted to be here with us."

I reach across the bed, careful not to disturb Ashlynn, and he meets me halfway. Our fingers intertwine above his sleeping daughter.

"I'm not going anywhere," I promise, and in this sterile hospital room, with monitors beeping and uncertainty hanging in the air, it feels like the most honest thing I've ever said.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Nolan

The morning light filters through the blinds of Ashlynn's hospital room, casting striped shadows across the floor. I blink, stiff from spending the night in a chair that was clearly not designed for sleeping. Across from me, Annabelle is curled up in a similar chair, her hair falling across her face, her hand still resting on the edge of Ashlynn's bed.

The night was long, nurses coming in every hour to check vitals, administer medication, adjust the IV. Ashlynn's fever had spiked again around 3 AM, and I'd watched, helpless, as they'd placed cooling blankets around her tiny body. Through it all, Annabelle had stayed awake with me, soothing Ashlynn when she cried, getting ice chips when her throat hurt too much to swallow, simply being there when I felt like I might fall apart.

I look at my daughter now, her face less flushed than it had been hours ago, her breathing deeper, more regular. The relief is overwhelming. Dr. Chen had stopped by on morning rounds and said her fever was responding to treatment, though they wanted to keep her another day for observation.

Ashlynn stirs, her eyes fluttering open. "Daddy?"

"I'm here, princess," I move closer, smoothing her tangled curls away from her face.

Her eyes dart around the room. "Where's Anna?"

"Right here," Annabelle says, instantly awake. She leans forward, giving Ashlynn a warm smile. "How are you feeling, sweet girl?"

"Thirsty," Ashlynn says.

Annabelle reaches for the cup of water with a straw that the night nurse had left. She holds it while Ashlynn takes small sips. My chest tightens watching them together,Annabelle's gentle patience, the trust in my daughter's eyes. It's been this way since Annabelle joined our household. She didn't just fill a job vacancy; she filled a void in our lives I hadn't even fully recognized.

"I'm going to go find us some breakfast," I announce, standing and stretching my stiff muscles. "Any requests?"

Annabelle looks up at me with tired eyes. "Coffee. The strongest they have."

I laugh. "Done. Ashlynn, you want anything, sweetheart?"

She shakes her head, already leaning into Annabelle's touch as she strokes her hair. Something tugs in my chest, gratitude, yes, but something more complicated too.

"I'll be right back," I promise, stepping into the hallway.

The hospital is fully awake now, staff moving efficiently between rooms, the sounds of morning routine echoing in the corridor. I find my way to the cafeteria on the ground floor, joining the line of other exhausted family members seeking caffeine and sustenance.

I'm studying the breakfast options when a voice behind me turns my blood cold.

"Nolan?"

I know who it is before I turn around. Lisa. The woman who walked out when our daughter was six months old, leavinga note that said motherhood "wasn't her thing" before signing away her parental rights. All of that comes rushing back right now, because I've spent the night in the hospital with the daughter she didn't want.

"What are you doing here?" My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but I make no attempt to soften it.

Lisa looks much the same, perfectly highlighted blonde hair, expensive clothes, that practiced expression of concern that never quite reaches her eyes. "I heard Ashlynn is in the hospital. It was on the prayer list at church."

I almost laugh at the absurdity. Lisa, suddenly concerned about the daughter she abandoned. I texted the guys, who must have told others, and now Lisa knows because the community loves my daughter. "And you thought you'd what? Drop by for a visit?"

She has the decency to look uncomfortable. "I know I haven't been around,"

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