Page 33 of Nanny for the Firefighters

Before Marcus can even respond, I blurt out, "Seriously, this is the best you can do? You're a load of…"

"Cheap perfume and bad decisions?" Marcus finishes for me, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Basically," I mutter back. The curse word I had in mind would have summed this up.

Vanessa throws me a venomous look. "And you? What are you, some kind of homewrecker? Playing house with someone else's husband?"

Marcus steps forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Vanessa, for the last time, I am not your husband. And frankly, after this little display, I wouldn't want to be related to you with a ten-foot barge pole."

Vanessa bristles, the mascara streaks on her face making her look even more unhinged. "At least I have a life, unlike some people who'd rather play Mommy than pursue something worthwhile."

Okay, that hit a nerve. "Excuse me? Playing Mommy? You think motherhood isn't worthwhile?" I fume, hands clenching into fists. It takes all my self-control not to lunge and smear the remnants of her makeup even more.

Marcus steps between us, a low warning growl rumbling in his voice. "Vanessa, that's enough. Leave Ella out of this."

With a theatrical sniffle, she whips around, eyes settling on my friends. "And what are you lot even doing here? This is family business! What kind of friends support their so-called bestie breaking up a marriage?"

Theo snorts. "Correction. He already ended the marriage, darling. We're more like 'Emotional Rescue Squad 911', here for the aftermath."

Will shoots me a supportive grin.

Vanessa makes one final attempt. "It was a mistake," she says to Marcus, her tone weepy. "A silly mistake."

"The thing about 'mistakes', Vanessa," Ethan pipes up, surprising us with his sudden participation. Usually, he's the type to stick to the sidelines. "Is that they often reveal true character. One, sure. Three, one after the other? Not so much."

Marcus's lips twitch in amusement, despite the tension. Vanessa looks like she might spontaneously combust.

"You… you… all of you!" She sputters, rage distorting her features further. "You'll regret this! I'll leave, but I'll make sure your life is a living hell, Marcus! Especially yours!" She points an accusing finger at me. "Gold-digger!"

I roll my eyes. "And what exactly am I digging for? Happiness with a cute kid? Oh, the horror!"

With a final screech of frustration, Vanessa does the classic villain exit—stomping out the door, slamming it with enough force to rattle the windows.

Silence descends, broken only by a soft sigh from Marcus. "Well, that was… something. I'm sorry you had to see that," he adds, his tone apologetic as he turns his attention on me. Something in the new hollowness of his eyes makes my heart break. He didn't deserve to have a wife who bedded four men in the totality of their marriage.

If only I could have done something back then.

Our conversation is interrupted by Lily's crying from her nursery upstairs.

I don't even hesitate. My feet are already propelling me up the grand staircase. The guys trail close behind, and for once, I'm glad this place is so absurdly huge. Lily hopefully didn't hear everything because her nursery is situated to the far end of the upstairs floor.

The door stands ajar, the sound of her wails even more heartbreaking up close. Pushing the door open, the sight stops me in my tracks. Lily, flushed and teary, is all alone in her oversized crib. It feels… fundamentally wrong. Every fiber of my maternal instincts screams out in protest.

Before I can think, I'm rushing to her side, lifting her into my arms. "Hey, little one, what's all this fuss about?" I croon, rocking her gently.

Her cries soften into whimpers as she nestles into the crook of my neck. A pang of guilt hits me. I should've come sooner.

"Where's Momma?" she mumbles, her tiny voice muffled against my skin.

We all exchange knowing glances over her head. The tension in the air thickens as I avoid answering her question.

"Hey, Lily," I try, aiming for a distraction, "how about we go have something yummy? Would you like some ice cream?"

Her eyes, still red-rimmed, light up with startling enthusiasm. "Ice cweam!" she chirps, forgetting her woes for a moment.

I give a small, triumphant smile. Leave it to ice cream to save the day. Carrying my precious cargo, I make my way downstairs, the guys falling into step behind me.

We enter the cavernous kitchen, and the guys watch as I settle Lily into a highchair and tie a makeshift bib around her neck.