Military Daddies’ Nanny (Lucky Women’s Daddies Reverse Harem #1)

Chapter 22

Drew

The sounds of childish laughter and splashing water fill the humid air, echoing off the tile walls of the indoor water park.

In any other circumstance, the cheerful chaos would be like a balm to my weary soul and a reminder of the boundless joy my kids are capable of when not weighed down by the baggage of their parent’s mistakes.

But not today. Today, every peal of delight twists the knife a little deeper and compounds the guilt and aching loss carving out a hollow space beneath my breastbone.

Because it's not me making them laugh like that. It’s not me stoking those bright sparks of unbridled glee. It's Karen who basks in their affection now.

I watch from across the pool deck as she playfully splashes them, shrieking in mock outrage when Jason retaliates by bombing into the water beside her, launching a tidal wave of chlorinated liquid her way.

Bella squeals, clambering up Karen's back and clamping tiny hands over her eyes in a fit of giggles. The scene is...charming. Idyllic, almost. A Norman Rockwell portrait of family togetherness made flesh.

Too bad I feel like a complete goddamn outsider, looking in on some warped alternate reality where the only thing familiar is the shape and color of my own children's joy.

Karen had explained herself to me. She had gone on a soul-searching journey after feeling like she’d settled down too early and given away too much of herself. The way she says it, if she had stayed, she would have become a monster to the kids, because her mental health was deteriorating and she found herself thinking the worst often.

It didn’t help that I’d been dealing with my own issues at the time. I hadn’t really seen that she was withering away before my very eyes. She chose herself. And in that moment, it seemed like it was a merciful way to go. Rather than scarring the children with something much worse if she had stayed.

She only came back now because she felt that she was healthy again. I understand her as much as I want to protest. Not everyone is strong enough to tackle their issues. She did what was best the way she knew how.

A different sort of ache grips me, one not borne of guilt or lingering resentment, but of visceral, soul-deep longing. Because as foreign as this vignette appears on the surface, I've seen this before. I've been part of it. It's just…

It wasn't Karen making the kids explode with those uninhibited peals of mirth. It was Nancy, with her sunshine smiles and gentle understanding. It was Nancy, who saw the family I'd been trying and failing to rebuild and somehow managed to mend the broken pieces just by existing in our orbits.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the memory, against the fleeting glimpse of what could have been. I had already chosen.

In that moment, faced with Karen in the flesh once more, everything narrowed to a single, overwhelming impulse—the opportunity to finally have that one thing I had lost. I hoped to finally mend what I'd broken by giving the kids their mother back.

Still, despite knowing that, as I look at Karen now, smiling indulgently as she towels off the kids, her focus solely on them, it only makes me see how wrong the picture is. I keep seeing someone else in her place.

Karen is so far removed from our present reality. She has no idea who Jason and Bella have become in her absence.

They're good kids, sweet, thoughtful, and painfully self-aware in a way no child should be. They are kids who learned far too young that heaping parental expectations on their tiny shoulders was a hell of a lot easier than risking disappointment.

Until Nancy, that is.

My chest constricts, breath stalling as an immense, complicated tangle of feelings threatens to overwhelm me. Guilt, for assuming I could simply plop my kids' mother back into their lives and everything would be sunshine and roses. I also felt a gut-wrenching longing for the family I'd glimpsed through Nancy's unshakable warmth. We had crafted a family not bound by blood or tradition, but created through the sheer force of her nurturing spirit.

And beneath it all, a creeping sense of unease, prickling like a viper's warning at the base of my skull. Because even in the midst of my delusion, in those fervent moments when I was certain I needed to make a sincere effort to allow Karen back into the fold, some part of me knew this would never be enough.

No matter how hard the kids might try, how much they hunger for even the facade of a traditional family unit...the connection isn't there. At least, not for me. Not anymore.

It's too easy, terrifyingly so, to think of Karen and simply feel…nothing. No echoes of the heart-stopping infatuation of our youth. No fond reminiscence of the bone-deep contentment I once felt just being near her. Nothing but the ashes of something too long burned out to be revived.

Nancy .

The thought of her, of the brilliant, radiant love she gifted to my broken family so freely, detonates like a flash bang in my mind. Harsh brilliance and discordant ringing in my ears leave me disoriented and breathless. I’m stunned by the sheer scope of what I nearly threw away.

I had let go of an entire universe of possibility condensed into one temptingly human form. I picture her sunny smiles and think of the deep, earthy cadence of her laugh. I think of the feeling of being at ease that stole over me whenever she directed those expressive eyes my way.

Nancy, who loved my kids ferociously, not as some extension of me, or because she felt obligated in the wake of Karen's absence, but simply because they were impossible not to cherish.

Nancy, who made our rickety patchwork of self-preservation seem...beautiful. Worthy of the unbridled joy she poured into every ordinary moment. Like she couldn't bear to let one second slip by without celebration.

A thousand times, I’ve thought about running to Nancy and asking her to forgive me, telling her she was not just a welcome distraction. I groan as I remember the look in her eyes when I canceled our date and couldn’t give her the answer to her question.

I want to beg for mercy and for her to take me back, but I can’t. There’s so many reasons why I can’t.

Karen has spent the week trying to bond with the children, and it would be cruel to take that away again because of my selfish wants.

I watch Karen as she teaches Jason how to dog-paddle. The kids are so excited about the opportunity to get to know her, and I can’t take that away.

I know where my heart lies. I had been ready to profess my love to Nancy the very day Karen returned. I take it as a sign that the type of life I wanted to have with Nancy and the other guys is impossible.

What do I expect Jason and Bella to say when asked about their parents? We have three dads and one mom, and one of our dads is actually our uncle? I don’t think I would want to ever say stuff like that out loud if I was a child.

I know the world has been moving toward more interesting family dynamics, but it’s all still new. Most people just want to be normal. Is that what I want? No, but surely, it’s better to conform, right?

What kind of family would we be? Sure, Carlos and Nathan have pretty much raised the kids with me their entire lives, long before Nancy came along, but the kids always missed their mom. And now they have her. What kind of dad would I be to take that away from them again?

Bella waves at me, calling aloud. I smile, waving back. Jason turns to me, a big smile on his face while he clutches tightly to his mother. They look happy. They look really happy with Karen, and that should be a good thing, right?

Only I can’t stop thinking about Nancy, and watching Karen now, every bit of my soul wishes this was Nancy instead.

Karen splashes loudly, then calls, “You sure you don’t want to join in on the fun?”

I smile a sad smile, shaking my head. “Sadly, I’m on lifeguard duty today. Y’all have fun, though.”

She smiles and turns back to Bella, making some joke that makes my daughter giggle and splash around. It’s a good thing Karen turned around. That way she doesn’t see the bitterness in my eyes, nor the emptiness I feel.

**

The hours pass by quickly and soon night falls. My mood still feels like an absolute train wreck. To Karen’s credit, she does try really hard to cheer me up, being kind and patient despite how antisocial I’ve been.

She can’t understand. How do I tell her that the best thing she could do to make me feel better is to go back in time and stop herself from returning? I don’t say that. Instead, I thank her for her care and make the excuse of fatigue.

“Whatever is hanging so heavily on your heart,” Karen says, helping me set up a makeshift bed on the couch. “I hope you can find some ease with that load. It’s crushing you, Drew, and I don’t know what to do.”

She’s in her pajamas already as she hands me some pillows. I let her have my bed, so I’ve been sleeping in the living room. She’s trying to be kind, but the ache in my heart is beyond what kindness can fix.

“I…thank you. That means the world to me.” I smile sadly, staring deep into her eyes. “I just need some rest. I should be fine in the morning.”

Nothing. Not even in this close proximity do I feel something for her other than indifference.

Quicker than I can anticipate, Karen leans down, her lips shooting straight for mine. I move without thinking, dramatically ducking out of the way and putting some distance between the two of us.

Karen is surprised, her eyes wide in shock. The shock turns into pain and resignation. Chuckling softly, she says, “Good night, Drew. Sleep well.”

She spins on her heel quickly, hurrying off towards the stairs. I can see how red her ears are as she goes. I’ve embarrassed her.

I bite my lower lip, trying to contain the overwhelming sorrow I feel. I know now, more clearly than ever before. I love Nancy, and not being with her right now is killing me slowly.