Chapter 9- Isabella

Isabella

"Make sure you turn on the night light in Aurora's room when she gets to bed. Don't turn it off. Lower the music volume but don't turn that off either." Tristan stood abruptly, putting an end to our conversation while barking orders he had already stated earlier.

"Oh, okay." I nodded, though it made me curious. "Why does she need music while going to bed?" I asked. The squint in his eyes told me I was overstepping even before he spoke up.

"You are here to take care of my daughter, not question our lifestyle."

I frowned. The man was no less of an asshole than he had been the first two times we met. I reined my curiosity in along with my comment and looked around. I still didn't know where I was sleeping. It had to be a guest room, but I didn't know where it was.

As if reading the question in my mind, he answered it. "On the first floor. The room to your left once you get to the top of the staircase. The one to your right is the library, which I will appreciate you staying as far away from as you can."

He went ahead to give a myriad of instructions, none of which I heard. What was wrong with the library?

"I hope you heard everything I said, Mrs. Clair. I hate having to deal with mistakes made because someone couldn't follow instructions."

I squinted. "Miss Clair."

"What?" He frowned.

"Miss Clair," I repeated the name, then realized why he was confused. I had just told him I was married a few minutes ago. It was reasonably confusing for me to insist on being referred to as "Miss".

Though for some reason, I had a feeling his attitude had changed as soon as I confirmed that my marriage was not a fake stunt I used to wade off assholes. I'd debated telling him the truth for a moment but then figured I was not in the mood to talk about things that would trigger thoughts I didn't want right now.

I also had to admit, my telling him about my marriage was also a way to remind myself of my predicament. I shouldn't be posing as a nanny, to begin with. Add a single hot dad to the mix and it was a recipe for disaster. I should be somewhere groveling in an attorney's office to get the most I could from my divorce. Not drooling at a man who clearly hated me.

Our stare-off ended with him nodding and correcting himself. "Miss Clair. You know what to do."

I nodded frantically and went off in search of Rory. She had stayed in her room after using the bathroom and was currently nodding off in the huge play area in her room.

"Hey," I smiled. She blinked a few times and looked over at me. Her eyes brightened up when she realized why I was in her room. She got up and nearly knocked into the wall coming towards me. I held her by the shoulders. She was so cute in her sleepy haze.

"Do you want a bedtime story?" I asked, guessing what a kid her age might need to fall asleep. She looked at me oddly and then nodded, then I realized I knew nothing about bedtime stories.

"Why don't you pick out your pajamas?" I told her, stalling so I would look up a bedtime story as fast as I could.

…

It turned out, a few minutes were not nearly enough to invent a bedtime story By the time I had Rory tucked in and she was waiting for me to tell her a story, my mind was blank. I decided to invent one as I went.

"Uhm, there was once a red bird who had everything she could ever ask for. A loving family, companion, and beautiful nest." I started, then immediately wondered why that story sounded so familiar.

Rory's hum prompted me to continue.

"One day, another bird robbed her of everything she had, taking her home away like it meant nothing."

"That's so mean." Rory looked upset.

"It is. And it's not even the worst part. The worst part is, when the other bird robbed her, her family did not side with her. They instead sided with the robber bird."

"Is the bird okay?" Rory asked, feeling sorry for the bird. I was beginning to understand why the story sounded familiar. It was my own, only with a bird instead of a woman.

"Well, she changed the color of her wings. She thought it would make her feel better. Although it did help her stop thinking about her predicament, she didn't truly feel better until she met a green baby bird and a green daddy bird."

"Did they become her friends?"

Did they? I had no idea. At least I was certain the green baby bird was her friend. The adult one, on the other hand…

I nodded to her question, putting a smile on the little girl's face. "I hope they help her kick the robber bird out of her home."

____

For hours after Rory's conclusion to my bedtime story, I couldn't fall asleep. I thought about her words for a long time, trying to think positively about my life.

I did not want my home back. I wanted to fly away and make a new nest instead. I just didn't know how.

After hours of tossing, it was 3 am when I checked the time and I hadn't slept a wink, so I figured I would find a super boring book to make me sleepier. Yes, I knew I had been told to steer away from the library, but what did anyone expect when they gave such an instruction? He should have simply locked it and not even let me know there was a library in there. Besides, he had gone to bed hours ago. He was probably snoring the night away.

So I crept to the library whose door was surprisingly open for a place I was supposed to stay away from, and looked around. It was much bigger than I had estimated based on the floor plan. Gigantic shelves lined the walls from ceiling to floor, leaving only enough space for a few reading nooks by the windows. There had to be at least two thousand books on them, and I hadn't even estimated those on the shelves in the center, and the other sections I could vaguely see from where I stood.

Why the hell did anyone need so many books? I was sure no one could ever finish them. But whatever, I only needed to find the most boring of them all, then I would be on my way.

I did a quick scan and opted for the science section if there was one. I had nothing against Science, it just wasn't my cup of tea and complicated theories would certainly make me drowsy. It was a good idea until I noticed a bottle of wine on one of the reading nook tables. Now, that was certain to make me drowsy.

I made a dash for it and grabbed it, ready to bolt back to the guest room, but the sudden voice behind me made me jump and drop the wine bottle I was holding.

"What the hell are you doing here?"