After Leaving Me for the Nanny

When Mrs. Thompson called both Peyton and me to her office, the two kids were standing against the wall, faces marked with scratches and bruises.

He spoke first. Long time no see.

I replied politely, Long time no see.

Mrs. Thompson's words floated past lightly, and she had us each take our child home.

I turned right with my daughter.

He turned left with his son.

This was our first meeting six years after the divorce.

......

I was in the middle of a site inspection when the call came.

Even the roar of the excavator couldn't drown out Mrs. Thompson's piercing voice.

My daughter had gotten into a fight at school.

With the school board chairman's son, no less.

By the time I arrived at the school, the other parent was already there.

A tall figure in a suit, his back straight and refined.

I glanced down at my mud-splattered shoes and the jeans ripped by a nail during my site rounds.

Silently regretting my choice.

I should have changed into something more presentable.

Mrs. Thompson waved me over when she saw me.

The other parent turned around at the sound.

The person I thought I'd never cross paths with again appeared before me without warning.

"Long time no see."

I responded politely.

"Long time no see."

Mrs. Thompson let out a long sigh of relief.

"The two children had a little disagreement."

"Since you and Chairman Hart already know each other, why don't you settle this privately?"

As soon as we left the school building, my daughter told me that Maxwell Hart used his father's position as the school's investor to bully other students regularly.

I asked softly, "Did he bully you?"

My daughter paused.

"He said I'm a bastard, a kid without a father."

"I got angry and fought with him."

I paused for a moment, then gave her a thumbs up.

"Good for you."

Peyton dragged Maxwell over, chasing after us.

He pressed down on Maxwell's head, demanding he apologize to my daughter.

A sharp, affected voice cut through the air.

"Why should my son apologize?"

Serena clicked over in her high heels, her face flushed with urgency.

She had transformed completely from before.

Draped in designer labels from head to toe, no trace left of her former awkwardness.

When she saw it was me, she froze for a moment.

"I already asked the teacher about this."

"Our Maxwell was just having a normal conversation with a classmate."

"This little girl suddenly rushed over and pushed him!"

She looked up at Peyton.

"If anyone should apologize, it's her to our son."

My daughter pulled her hand from mine and looked at Peyton too.

"He said I'm a bastard, that I don't have a father."

"That's why... I pushed him."

Peyton's eyes flickered across from us.

"Sweetie, who says you don't have a father?"

A calm, measured voice sounded beside my ear as a hand gently took my trembling one.

Warmth spread from that broad palm, bringing an inexplicable sense of security.

"Dad!"

My daughter rushed toward Zach, who caught her up in his arms.

"I've just been busy with work lately and haven't had time to come to school."

"I had no idea my daughter was being called fatherless."

Silence stretched the moment out.

Peyton looked at me and spoke slowly.

"Today was our fault."

"I'll make sure to educate him properly when we get home."

I nodded.

I ushered Zach and my daughter into the car.

"Vivian Hart, this time we'll let it go."

"But don't go around calling people dad."

"Call him Zach."

I turned to Zach.

"How did you get here?"

Vivian covered her phone watch.

"When our Sweetie gets bullied, I have to come back her up."

Zach turned around and winked at her.

The two of them laughed together, sweeping away the gloom from the school incident.

I glanced out the window where Serena was still saying something.

Peyton ignored her, looking annoyed as he turned left out of the school gate with his child.

Zach jerked his chin in their direction.

"Is that her?"

I nodded.

Back then, she was just our housekeeper.

Yet she made Peyton divorce me without a second thought.

When I first started at the school, Peyton's company was just getting off the ground.

We both grabbed meals on the run.

The small diner near our apartment became our regular dinner spot.

Serena was a kitchen helper there back then.

She often sat on a plastic stool by the door, reading books.

When she learned I was a teacher, her eyes lit up.

She told me she wanted to take the self-study university exam.

She hoped to get a degree so she could establish herself in the city.

At the time, I admired her tenacity.

Only later did I realize the ambition and ruthlessness beneath that determination.

That day, Peyton and I walked to the small diner as usual.

From a distance, we saw the rolling shutter pulled down.

Serena was crouched on the stone steps by the entrance, shoulders shaking as she cried.

It turned out the owner had run off. She had nowhere to go and still owed rent.

She cried and begged me to help her get a job in the school cafeteria.

I couldn't help her with that, but I felt sorry for how hard things were for someone so young.

So I asked if she'd be willing to come cook at our place.

She threw her arms around me, overjoyed.

"Claire, I'll never forget what you've done for me."

When we got home, Peyton frowned and told me,

"I don't like having outsiders in the house."

I took his hand.

"The girl's having a hard time. Just let her come cook for us. She'll leave right after. Okay?"

He sighed softly.

He turned his hand over and clasped mine.

"Whatever you want..."

The neighbor I was friendly with saw that a young woman had been coming to our place.

She pulled me aside and quietly warned me to be careful.

I laughed and waved it off.

My relationship with Peyton had spanned our entire youth.

From childhood to adolescence all the way to marriage.

Plenty of girls had chased him.

He never even bothered to look up.

I knew him. Once he decided on something, he was single-minded.

Serena's meals were different every day, balanced with meat and vegetables.

She was very attentive.

She memorized all of Peyton's and my preferences.

Going far beyond what her job required.

A cup of hot tea handed to us after dinner gradually melted Peyton's cold expression.

His attitude toward Serena became much warmer.

I treated her like a younger sister.

But when she said the rent outside was too expensive and asked if she could set up a cot in the storage room, I hesitated.

After all, having a live-in was somewhat inconvenient.

Serena put on a pleading smile.

"Claire, I'll take care of everything at home."

"You and Peyton can just focus on your careers."

While I was still hesitating, Peyton came home.

He took the hot tea Serena handed him.

"Living here works. I'm busy with work, so you and Claire can look out for each other."

Serena happily shook Peyton's hand.

"Thank you, Peyton. I'll definitely take good care of Claire."

Serena truly lived up to her word.

She didn't let me worry about a single household task.

The bedding was fluffy and soft, smelling of sunshine.

Even the cracks in the corners were spotless.

Most importantly, she had a good sense of boundaries.

After finishing her tasks, she'd return to her room to study.

So quiet you'd forget there was another person in the house.

My concerns gradually dissolved day by day.

On Serena's birthday, I brought Peyton along to buy her gifts and a cake.

We came home early wanting to surprise her.

When we opened the door, she looked completely flustered.

Her face was as red as the red halter dress she was wearing.

That was a dress Peyton had given me when we were dating.

I'd thought it was too revealing and never wore it.

"Claire, I was sorting through seasonal clothes today and saw this dress."

"I thought it looked nice so I tried it on."

"I'm sorry..."

Though she was speaking to me, her eyes were on Peyton.

Tears hung at the corners of her eyes, with a coquettishness unique to young girls.

Peyton beside me cleared his throat twice.

"I forgot something in the car. Going down to get it."

Young girls liking pretty things was understandable.

Serena usually wore faded plaid shirts.

I just hadn't expected someone so simple to like this style.

I set aside the gift we'd picked for her that afternoon.

"Peyton and I chose a dress for you."

"Though it seems it's not your style."

She picked up the shopping bag, her eyes full of eagerness to please.

"I like it, I like it. I love anything you give me."

Peyton was gone for a long time.

When he finally came back, the unnatural flush on his face still hadn't faded.

I didn't think much of this little incident.

But afterward, Serena started wearing makeup.

From time to time, she'd go to the study to ask Peyton questions.

Peyton, who usually had no patience for incompetence, was extraordinarily patient with her.

He'd even disassemble models I wasn't allowed to touch to show her.

The atmosphere in our home began to change subtly.

Zach beside me asked,

"Is that when they got together?"

I shook my head.

"Not long after, I let her go."

The reason I fired her was...

A peach.

"Serena, did you receive the two boxes of peaches today?"

Serena, who was cooking, responded.

"Got them. I put them all in the fridge."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Just in time.

I'd specially asked a friend to air-ship these Okayama white peaches from Japan.

The client Peyton was meeting with tomorrow loved these.

When I opened the fridge, I noticed the box had been opened.

There had been six peaches originally. Now there were only five.

Serena turned around just then, carrying a dish.

I looked into her eyes.

"Did you touch the peaches in the box?"

Her hand holding the soup bowl jerked violently.

The ceramic bowl slipped, and hot soup spilled everywhere.

Peyton rushed over almost immediately when he heard the noise.

He passed right by me.

Grabbing her wrist, his voice full of concern.

"Did you get burned?"

"Did you cut yourself?"

"How could you be so careless?"

He carefully blew on her hand.

"Quick, run it under cold water."

He half-supported, half-carried her to the bathroom.

He didn't even look back at me.

Didn't even glance at my foot scalded by the hot soup.

Serena's trembling voice drifted from the bathroom, broken and halting.

"Peyton, I'm sorry..."

"I cleaned inside and out all day today, so busy I forgot to eat lunch..."

"Later I was so hungry, I saw the peaches in the fridge."

"I thought... just one peach, it should be fine..."

"I really didn't think... that Claire would care so much..."

I laughed coldly to myself. There was so much fruit in the house.

I'd specifically told her just yesterday that these peaches were for a client.

Yet she still took one.

Peyton's voice carried a coaxing tone.

"It's fine. Eat them if you want."

When he came out and saw my expression, his face darkened.

"Claire, is it really necessary over one peach?"

I said coldly,

"Peyton, these were specially prepared for your client visit."

"Do you know how many favors I called in to get these from Japan?"

His tone was full of impatience, as if I were being unreasonable.

"I'll handle the client situation myself. You don't need to worry about it."

"Serena can eat the peaches if she wants. She can eat as many as she likes."

He paused.

"I'm taking Serena to the hospital to treat her burn."

"Peyton!"

I stepped forward, enunciating each word.

"If you walk out that door now, don't come back."

He stopped in his tracks, his anger deflating by half.

In the end, he stayed where he was.

He didn't move another step. Didn't turn around either.

Early the next morning, I called in sick to the school.

I stopped Peyton as he was getting ready for work.

I turned to Serena, who was holding Peyton's briefcase.

"Serena, you'll be starting school soon."

I pulled out a manila envelope.

"This money is for you. It's enough for tuition and basic living expenses."

Serena's face went pale instantly.

"Claire... what do you mean?"

"What I mean is---"

I met her gaze.

"We don't need help at home anymore."

"Claire!" Serena rushed over in a few steps.

"Yesterday was my fault!"

"I was greedy and ate the peach!"

"I made you angry!"

"Please let me stay, okay?"

"I don't have many classes. I absolutely won't neglect the housework."

She got more and more agitated as she spoke.

Finally her knees started to buckle.

"Serena!"

Peyton finally spoke up, stepping forward quickly to catch her.

But I stopped him with a look.

I watched her knees hovering in mid-air and laughed coldly.

"Claire!"

Peyton's voice carried anger.

"How did you become like this?"

He turned to look at the tearful Serena.

His voice softened.

"You don't have to go anywhere. Just stay home."

I felt a surge of rage rush from the bottom of my heart straight to my head.

Before I knew it, I'd slammed the teacup down hard on the table.

The fragments shattered everywhere, cutting my hand bloody, though I barely noticed.

"Peyton, you're crossing the line!"

In all our years of marriage, this was the first time I'd ever slammed anything in front of him.

Silence spread through the room.

After a long moment, he finally spoke.

"Serena, focus on your studies at school."

Zach was even more curious. He parked the car and turned to ask me.

"So when did you two get divorced?"

I smiled slightly. I'd naively thought that firing her would make life return to normal.

But she'd already taken root deep in Peyton's heart.

I glanced at my daughter, who was listening to music with her earbuds in.

I said lightly, "Three years later."

"The day I found out I was pregnant."

After dropping my daughter off at her tutoring class, we came to the coffee shop downstairs.

Zach insisted on hearing the rest of the story. He brought over two cups of coffee.

I began slowly.

By then, Peyton had already made his business successful and stable.

I wasn't as busy as when I first started at the school either.

We both wanted a child.

We'd done all the tests.

Nothing wrong, but no pregnancy either.

One year, two years.

Peyton smiled and told me to relax.

But I knew how many events he'd turned down that he shouldn't have, just to focus on trying for a baby.

On the seventh morning after my period was late, I stared at the three pregnancy tests on the table, each showing two clear lines.

I rubbed my finger over Peyton's name on my phone but didn't call.

Not until I held the pregnancy report at the hospital.

I bought his favorite grapefruit cake.

I decided to go to his company and surprise him in person.

Just as I stepped into the elevator, two girls in work uniforms carrying coffee walked in.

The tall girl looked around and lowered her voice to her companion.

"Hey, did you hear? Even someone like Mr. Hart..."

"I really don't believe in love anymore!"

The girl with the ponytail was excited with gossip.

"Which Mr. Hart?"

"How many Mr. Harts does our company have? The one on the top floor!"

"I heard Mrs. Hart is even a university professor. How could he fall for that intern?"

"Right! She didn't even graduate from a proper university. Using... well, you know. Now she follows Mr. Hart in and out every day. Who doesn't know what's going on?"

The elevator stopped at the nineteenth floor.

The two girls' voices cut off abruptly as they exited.

And I stood there trembling as I pressed the button for the top floor.

Just as I reached Peyton's office door, his secretary Jordan stopped me.

"Claire, Mr. Hart is in a meeting."

I tried the handle.

"A meeting with who? What kind of meeting requires locking the office door?"

Jordan smiled awkwardly.

I didn't look at him again.

I used all my strength to kick open that heavy wooden door.

The scene inside made me unable to breathe.

On the office desk was a disheveled Serena.

Peyton stood beside her, his chest heaving violently.

When he heard the door, he whipped around.

The moment our eyes met, the lust in his eyes was instantly replaced by fear.

His Adam's apple bobbed frantically.

"Claire, let me explain."

He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

Serena cowered behind him.

I looked at this place I'd visited countless times.

Now it felt so filthy and unbearable.

"Explain what?"

"Explain how she came to work at your company?"

"How she became your assistant?"

"Or... how she ended up on your desk?"

I thought I would cry, that I'd become hysterical.

But when I actually spoke, my voice was as calm as a stagnant pool.

I walked toward the silver trash can by the desk.

I lifted my hand and threw the grapefruit cake into it.

Peyton hadn't even noticed the cake in my hand.

He thought I was going to approach Serena.

In two or three steps, he was in front of me.

Arms spread wide, shielding Serena behind him.

That posture suddenly struck me as ridiculous.

"Peyton, don't worry."

"I find trash too disgusting to even look at, let alone touch."

I didn't spare them another glance. I turned and left.

The moment I stepped through the door, my legs felt like all their strength had been drained.

I collapsed heavily onto the cold floor.

Tears broke free.

That day, I felt like all my organs had gone numb.

Time and space dissolved into nothing.

The sky gradually darkened, then gradually lightened again.

Peyton didn't come home.

This man I'd thought only had eyes for me was completely absent.

Not until the divorce papers I sent him showed as delivered did the lock finally turn.

He looked well. His expression held no trace of guilt.

Only a kind of impatience at being disturbed.

"Claire, we don't need to make this ugly. As long as you don't divorce me, I'll never divorce you."