After a long shower—hot water washing months of despair away—Emily changed into soft clothes left for her. She cried under the lavender-scented steam, grieving the woman she used to be.
At dinner, she ate carefully at first, then hungrily. Roast chicken, fresh bread, real vegetables. Daniel noticed but said only, “There’s plenty.”
Later, after the girls went upstairs, Daniel led her into his study.
“I want to help,” he said plainly. “But I need to understand. What happened?”
Emily took a breath.
“I was an art teacher. I loved it. I was engaged—to Ryan. He gambled. Took loans in our names. Destroyed my credit. Then he vanished. I lost my apartment. My job followed when rumors spread. Without credit or references, doors just… closed. It’s hard to climb out once you fall that far.”
“And family?”
“They cut me off years ago. They wanted a lawyer, not an artist.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“My daughters connected with you instantly,” he said. “They’ve had five nannies. None lasted. They’re grieving. So am I. Maybe… we could help each other.”
Emily stiffened. “I won’t replace their mother.”