Chapter 11 - The Contract with an End Date
Spring came slowly to Boston. Snow retreated from the Mercer estate in gray piles. The frozen garden softened. By April, Lily had returned to school full-time. By May, she slept through most nights without Claire beside her.
The first time it happened, Claire felt strangely sad. “She doesn’t need me anymore,” she told Adrian after midnight in the kitchen. Adrian looked up from the refrigerator. “She’s asleep.” “Exactly.” “That was the goal.” “I know.” “You sound disappointed.” Claire sat at the island. “For months, every night she called for me.” Adrian closed the refrigerator and walked toward her. “This is the problem with helping people heal.” “What?” “They stop bleeding on you.” Claire laughed softly. “She still needs you,” he said. “Differently.” “Yes.”
Claire looked down at her hands. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am here anymore.” Adrian’s face changed. “You’re Claire.” “That was inspirational.” “I practiced.” She smiled, then forced herself to say the thing they had both avoided. “My contract ends next month.” Adrian froze.
“Okay,” he said eventually. Claire blinked. “Okay?” “Yes.” “You’re not going to say no?” Adrian sat opposite her. “I learned something. You hate being told what your choices are.” “Accurate.” “So I won’t choose for you.” Claire studied him. “What do you want?” Adrian exhaled. “I want you to stay.” Her heart warmed. “As Lily’s nanny?” “No.”
He told her if she wanted to keep working with children, she should. If she wanted to open the childcare center she had once mentioned at breakfast, she should do that. Claire stared. “You remember that?” “You said it in November.” “I barely remember breakfast in November.” “I remember most things you say.” It was unfairly romantic.
Adrian took her hand. “I don’t want you trapped in this house because Lily loves you. I want you here because I love you. But wanting something doesn’t make it your obligation.” Claire’s throat tightened. Love had so often arrived in her life with conditions: be easier, quieter, thinner, ask for less. Her former boyfriend once told her she would be perfect if she lost thirty pounds. Adrian had never asked her to become smaller, physically or emotionally.
“What if I open the childcare center?” she asked. “I’ll invest.” “No.” His eyebrows rose. “I knew you’d say that.” “I’ll get a loan.” “I know.” “You are absolutely not buying me a business.” “I know.” Claire narrowed her eyes. “You look suspiciously satisfied.” Adrian admitted he had already introduced her to a nonprofit lender. “It’s not my money.” Claire’s mouth fell open. “Adrian!” “I networked.” “You interfered.” “Professionally.” “You’re impossible.” “You love me.” “Against medical advice.”
Claire laughed, then touched the scar over his eyebrow. “I’ll stay.” Adrian’s smile disappeared. “What?” “I’ll stay.” His hand tightened. “But not because you own the house. And not because Lily needs a nanny forever. And I’m opening the center.” “I will be annoyingly supportive.” “You already are.”
Adrian leaned closer. “One more condition.” Claire narrowed her eyes. “What?” “Marry me.”
Silence.
Adrian froze. Then swore quietly. Claire blinked. “Was that the proposal?” “No.” “You just said marry me.” “I was going to do this properly.” “You ordered me to marry you.” “I did not order.” “You used the same tone you use when telling Marcus to move a convoy.” Adrian rubbed his face. Claire began laughing. He walked away. “Forget it.” “Absolutely not.” “I had a ring.” Her laughter stopped. “You have a ring?” He looked irritated. “At the jeweler.” “How long?” “Three weeks.”
Claire stared. “Three weeks?” “I had a plan.” “You?” “Yes.” “With romance?” “Apparently that surprises you.” He told her he had planned a proposal in the garden on Saturday. Lily had planted flowers. Rosa had helped decorate the gazebo. Marcus was supposed to keep the press away. Claire covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Adrian stopped. “Why are you crying?” “Because your terrible proposal ruined your beautiful proposal.” “That is an accurate summary.”
Claire walked into his arms. “Ask me again.” “Now?” “No. Saturday.” Adrian looked relieved. “Thank God.” She kissed him. “But I’m still making fun of you for this forever.” “That seems statistically likely.”
Upstairs, unseen by either of them, Lily was awake in the hallway holding a glass of water and smiling like someone who had just acquired classified information.
May you like
The next morning Lily was suspiciously agreeable. She ate oatmeal without complaint, brushed her teeth on the first request, and asked Claire whether she liked daisies. Claire narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning?” “Nothing.” “You are six. Nothing has never looked that guilty.” Adrian nearly choked on his coffee. Lily looked at him. “Daddy, is Saturday important?” Adrian’s expression went blank. Claire slowly turned toward him. “Did you tell her?” “No.” Lily grinned. “I heard the bad proposal.” Claire put her face in her hands. Adrian looked toward the ceiling as if asking Rebecca for patience.
Instead of ruining the surprise, Lily became more invested in it. She spent the next three days guarding the garden with the seriousness of a Secret Service agent. She also informed Rosa that Adrian needed “practice saying nice things.” By Friday evening, Claire had heard enough muffled conversations behind doors to know half the household was participating. The absurdity made the coming proposal feel more intimate, not less. Adrian Mercer, a man who once negotiated shipping contracts worth hundreds of millions, was apparently terrified of asking one woman a question she had already half answered. Claire found that deeply comforting.
