Page 67 of Balance

Before Patricia can reply Avery sighs, not taking the animosity very well. “Grandma, Lily is a great cook.”

This is going to be a long week.

By the time we get back, Mackenzie is up and stalking around in her pajamas and she just smirks at us as we step in. I have two of their bags in my hand and I drop them unceremoniously near the hall that leads to the bedrooms and shoot her a look. She turns around and slams her bedroom door and I make my way into the kitchen to pull out the dinner that I had warming in the oven for them.

At least Mack can read my facial expressions and knows to hide.

The rest of us already ate so hopefully they can handle eating alone.

I serve Patricia and Henry at the island and pour myself a glass of wine. The clock on the microwave shows that it’s already past the girls’ bedtime. Shit. .

I continue drinking and drinking as Patricia complains about eating like a servant in the kitchen. How Morgan needs to eat in his proper dining room. He needs a full staff.

He needs this, he needs that.

The chicken is dry. The gravy tastes canned. My vegetables are probably not organic. The wine I chose doesn’t mesh with the dinner and tastes like it was from a gas station.

I walked right out of there and locked myself in my bedroom. I took a long bath and turned on the TV. Morgan can get the girls into bed and deal with his parents. If this is how they’re going to be, then they can figure out how to watch their grandchildren and I’ll take Mackenzie with me back to that resort we stayed at last month while Morgan is out of town.

Fuck, it’s been a month since Morgan and I made things more official, I’ve tried so many times to tell him everything, but he just kisses my head and tells me it doesn’t matter. He only cares about the present and our future now. He doesn’t judge me for my past, for my scars. And I don’t judge him for his poor dating choices. Sort of.

Mackenzie has watched the girls a few times so that we could go out, but we end up just picking up food and walking through parks.

We’ve gone to dinner once, but I enjoyed the fresh air, just us being together. Definitely in safer distances from his fans, the cameras, and waitresses falling over themselves to ensure he’ssatisfied.

I never imagined I would date someone famous, I was just a lowly elementary school teacher. I loved my job, I loved San Francisco - for the most part.

Do I even want to teach again? I don’t want to be a burden, sitting around the house and being paid an insane amount of money for nannying three girls that I love more than life itself. Am I even really their nanny anymore?

What happens if Morgan and I get married? I want to contribute, I actually do want to work.

I sigh as I wrap myself up in my comforter and ignore my vibrating phone on my nightstand.

His parents are never going to like me, and I’m just going to have to get over it. I’m not up to par with their expectations, I don’t come from money. I’m just a lowly teacher. Oh well.

Chapter 23

Morgan

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Thanksgiving came and went, and I have been in California for three days. We finally get to go home tomorrow.

I wince as I try to move my arm, but it’s no use. I’m nervous about the scans coming back. I can barely move it at all. I bite down on my lip as I use my left hand to grab my phone and scroll through my messages.

My parents complained about everything under the sun, and shocker, not one message about the hit I took tonight, or asking me if I’m okay. Several messages from old flames, old friends, other crazy people that somehow got my number.

Two from Lillian, asking me to call her as soon as I can and that the girls and her are worried. I smile as I scroll up to the photos she sent me yesterday from when they all took the girls to the ice rink and to the movies. She’s a saint for putting up with my entire family in one house. She hasn’t packed up and ran yet, so I take that as a plus.

I groan as I sit down on my bed and call Lillian, listening to the loud ringing in my ear.

She finally answers and I hear a door close before she says anything. “Hey, I just got the girls down. Are you okay? How bad is it?”

I wince as I stare up at the ceiling and close my eyes. It was fucking brutal.

We were down by one point and thought that I was still as nimble as I was fifteen years ago. Tried a trick shot and was slammed into harder than a damn mack truck. My head snapped to the side after I was thrown into the wall and I fell on my shoulder against the unforgiving ice.

I doubt anything is broken, but something might be torn.

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