Page 16 of Misery In Me

To change the subject, I bring up Zoe. “Do you think you’ll have internet access wherever you’re going? It would be nice if you could video call her so that she can still see you.”

“It really depends on what they have planned for this field op. Sometimes we do and sometimes we’re radio silent.”

Zoe needs to keep that connection with her dad. It’s bad enough that he’s on active duty and can get called away at a moment’s notice. I won’t push this with him though, because ultimately it isn’t within his control.

I take a deep breath, folding my arms across my chest. “Is it really that bad out there? The training, I mean.”

He stops and looks up, his hand frozen in mid-motion, a look of something close to guilt flashing in his eyes before he masks it with a forced calm. “It’s just a training exercise. But it’s going to be intense.” His jaw tightens, and I know he’s trying to push back the anxiety that’s brewing under his surface. It’s not just about the training. He’s worried about leaving Zoe.

“I’ll be fine, Gage,” I say, my voice a little firmer than I intend. “She’ll be fine too.”

He doesn’t respond right away, but I catch the brief glance he throws my way. It’s quick, but there’s a hesitancy in it, as if he’s not entirely sure. I can’t blame him for that. I’m new to them. Two weeks as Zoe’s nanny, and I know Gage doesn’t fully trust me yet. Not in the way he trusts the people who’ve been in his life longer, not in the way he probably trusts the men on his team. I get it. Trust takes time.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice lower, more vulnerable than I’ve heard it. He doesn’t look at me as he continues to adjust things in his bag.

“I’m sure,” I say, even though the reassurance doesn’t feel as convincing as I want it to. I move toward him, standing by the door where he’s grabbing his blouse. I’m not sure what I’m trying to do here—comfort him or comfort myself.

He looks at me, his gaze steady but conflicted. “I don’t know if I can leave her. Not yet. Not with—” He pauses, staring at thefloor for a moment, then meets my eyes again. “Not with you and her just getting to know each other.”

I swallow hard. I know this. I do. But hearing him voice it like that makes the knot in my stomach tighten. He’s right to be cautious. There’s a reason he doesn’t trust me fully, and I can’t pretend to be offended by it. The fact is, his world is dangerous. It’s unpredictable. He’s always on edge, always ready for whatever is coming next. And he’s handing his newborn daughter off to me.

I’m not her mother.

Not his wife or girlfriend.

Just someone he pays to care for her.

I reach for his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. I squeeze it, and my voice softens. “Gage... I’m not going to let anything happen to her. I promise.”

He stares at me for a long beat, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicker with hesitation, then soften as if he’s making a decision that’s not entirely his to make.

“You’re good with her. Better than I expected,” he says, his tone quiet but sincere.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “Look, I know you're hesitant. She is your daughter, Gage, and she just came into your life. You have every right to be worried.”

He exhales sharply, his breath catching for just a moment. “I don’t even trust myself with her sometimes.”

I tilt my head, trying to read him. “You love her,” I say softly. “You just want to make sure she’s safe. I’ve been around a lot of families and I can say with confidence that you are doing amazing.”

He nods, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, like a half-smile that doesn’t quite make it. “Yeah. It’s... harder than I thought it’d be. Leaving her.”

Gage looks down at his boots again, running a hand over his face like he’s trying to wipe away whatever thoughts are haunting him.

I can see the internal battle playing out in his mind. But there’s nothing I can do to ease that—nothing but be here and stay steady for both of them. I’ve worked with babies before and with older kids. I’ve raised my younger siblings. But this is different. This is Gage’s daughter. There’s so much more at stake here than just getting through the day without an accident. His trust. His family. His peace of mind.

I walk to the window and peer outside at the sky, tinged with early morning light. The neighborhood looks peaceful—too peaceful for all the weight that’s on us. I’m not sure what’s waiting for me in the next few days. I don’t know how to navigate this tightrope of responsibility without tripping up. But I can’t let him see that. I can’t let him see that I’m freaking out inside. That even if I’ve cared for children before, this feels like a whole new world.

Because this little girl means so much more to me than any other child I’ve helped care for.

When I turn back to him, Gage’s still standing there, his bag slung over one shoulder. He looks like he’s ready to leave, but I know he’s stuck. His eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, to the door, then back to me.

He already kissed her goodbye before coming downstairs this morning and I can tell he wants to go back upstairs to her nursery.

“I’ll check in whenever I can,” he says, but it’s not enough. His voice betrays the uncertainty still gnawing at him. I know he’s saying the words to reassure himself more than anything.

I walk toward him, stop just a few inches away, and put a hand on his arm. “I know you’re worried. But I’m good at this. I know what to do.”

He looks down at me, his lips tight, then nods slowly, like he’s convincing himself more than me. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll make sure to?—”

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