Chapter 6 - The Offer Ellie Refused
The twins were discharged two days later.
Healthy.
Stable.
Safe.
Damien invited me to his house.
I assumed he wanted to thank me.
I should have known better.
A folder waited on his desk.
I opened it.
My name was on the first page.
“What is this?”
“Your life back.”
I closed the folder.
“No.”
Damien frowned.
“You haven't read it.”
“I don't need to.”
“The evidence against you has been formally challenged. Keller provided a statement. Investigators recovered records proving your login was duplicated.”
My throat tightened.
“Your professional reputation can be restored,” he continued.
“That isn't what I'm saying no to.”
“Then what?”
I pushed the folder toward him.
“You don't get to buy me.”
His expression hardened.
“I am not buying you.”
“There's a contract inside.”
“For a position.”
“With your family.”
“Yes.”
“What position?”
“Director of developmental support for the twins.”
I laughed once.
“You invented that.”
“Yes.”
“Damien.”
“The salary is competitive.”
“How competitive?”
He told me.
I stared at him.
“That isn't competitive. That's insane.”
“I can afford insane.”
“I don't want your charity.”
“It isn't charity.”
“What happens when your children don't need me anymore?”
“They'll always need someone who isn't afraid of me.”
“That is not a professional qualification.”
“It should be.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Damien looked genuinely irritated.
“Why?”
“Because I want my career back.”
“I am giving it back.”
“No. You're offering me another life inside yours.”
That silenced him.
I softened my voice.
“I spent three years believing Keller took everything from me. If I hide inside your mansion now, he still wins.”
Damien looked toward the window.
“What do you want?”
“To practice again.”
“Then practice.”
“I need supervised clinical hours before reinstatement.”
“I'll arrange—”
“No.”
He looked back at me.
“I'll arrange them.”
“Why is it acceptable when you say it?”
“Because they're my hours.”
For several seconds, we simply stared at each other.
Then one of the twins started crying upstairs.
Damien immediately looked toward the ceiling.
I smiled.
“You're terrified of them.”
“I run twelve companies.”
“Thirteen.”
“How do you know?”
“You investigated me. I returned the favor.”
His eyebrow lifted.
The second twin joined his brother.
Damien sighed.
“Help.”
“No.”
“Ellie.”
“You're their father.”
“I know that.”
“Then go.”
He headed upstairs.
I followed slowly.
He picked up one baby.
Then the other.
Both cried harder.
Damien looked at me.
“Don't laugh.”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
“A little.”
I took the teaspoon from the nursery tray.
Tapped it gently against a glass.
One-two-three.
One-two-three.
The babies quieted.
Damien looked down at them.
Then at me.
“Stay for dinner.”
I hesitated.
“Dinner?”
“That's usually what people call it.”
“Is this another employment interview?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
He seemed almost uncomfortable.
“Dinner.”
I smiled.
“All right.”
Six months later, my professional credentials were restored.
I returned to clinical work.
And Damien never once asked me to give it up.
But somehow, every Friday evening, I still ended up at his house.
For dinner.
For the twins.
At least that was what both of us kept pretending.
May you like
Until one Friday, Damien stopped pretending.
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