Chapter 59

Iris

Arthur swings open the front door to reveal an older woman with graying hair standing in the hallway.

“Mrs. White,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “Please, come in.”

The woman shuffles into the foyer, clutching a small duffle bag to her chest. She stops in the center of the room and looks around with a discerning eye before her gaze lands on me. Something seems to harden her weathered features, and she presses her lips into a thin line.

“Iris, this is Mrs. White, our new nanny,” Arthur says, gesturing between us. “Mrs. White, this is my mate, Iris.”

The use of that word—mate—sends an unwanted thrill through me. I can’t help but wish he’d chosen a different word, because although we are technically still mates, we’re not… together. And yet, at the same time, hearing him say it sets my pulse racing in ways I don’t want to admit.

Especially when he looks as handsome as he does right now, the top button of his shirt undone, hair ever so slightly mussed, and his sharp jaw dotted with overnight stubble.

The woman looks me up and down, causing me to draw my robe a little tighter around myself.

“Pleasure,” she says, then looks at Arthur. “Where is the child?”

“He’s sleeping,” Arthur replies. He begins moving toward the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee? Anything to eat?”

Mrs. White narrows her eyes, but follows Arthur into the kitchen. I hesitate, debating running upstairs to get changed, but ultimately follow them.

“Sleeping this late?” she asks as she settles onto a stool at the counter. “A boy his age should be up already, preparing for the day.”

I glance at the clock on the microwave and frown. It’s not even seven o’clock, and it’s a Saturday.

Arthur pours three cups of coffee and sets on in front of each of us. “Mrs. White is the reason why I was out all day yesterday. The interview process was extensive.” His eyes sparkle with humor. “On both ends, might I add.”

“I don’t agree to work for any family until I have the proper understanding of their household,” she says. “Even if it’s the Alpha President.”

I can’t help but bristle slightly at that. It explains where he was yesterday, but Arthur should have told me he was going to hire a nanny.

Just then, Miles comes into the room, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Mommy, can we have waffles for—” He stops short when he sees the strange woman sitting in our kitchen. She turns to him, her lips tugging downward when she sees his rumpled dinosaur pajamas and messy hair.

Miles’ face pales, and then he abruptly turns on his heel and runs off. The hallway echoes with the sound of his footsteps pounding up the stairs, followed by the sound of the guest room door slamming shut.

I flinch. Arthur blinks, clearly confused, and I realize this is the first time he’s ever seen Miles have a meltdown over a new person.

“Why, I never,” Mrs. White huffs, clutching her pearl necklace.

Arthur looks a little dazed. “He’s not normally like that,” he says. “Usually, he’s quite adventurous.” He glances at me, a silent question behind his green eyes.

My stomach sinks slightly. I still haven’t had the opportunity to explain the reason behind Miles’ mannerisms, and frankly, I’ve been hesitant to do it. Arthur is an Alpha; there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll take issue with the fact that his son is on the spectrum.

Thankfully, Arthur quickly changes the subject, getting Mrs. White settled and showing her around the apartment.

He sets her up in the secondary spare bedroom on the second floor, a room that neither of us has ever used. I’ve been preferring to sleep with Miles since we got here, and even when I lived here with Arthur five years ago, the room never got used for anything other than storage. It seems Arthur has cleaned out the boxes and other things at some point without my knowledge, but hasn’t done a deep clean.

I can’t help but notice the nanny’s mild look of distaste at the thin layer of dust on the top of the dresser and windowsill. She turns to Arthur as she sets her bag down on the twin-sized bed. “Don’t you have a housekeeper?” she asks, then glances at me as if it’s my job to ensure the entire place is spotless.

Arthur smiles slightly. “Not yet,” he admits.

The nanny looks taken aback, probably because she expects the Alpha President to have a full staff or at least a housewife. But she doesn’t mention it again, and we leave her to get settled.

Once Arthur and I are alone again, I turn to him. “Why didn’t you warn me?” I whisper. “Or Miles?”

“I told you I wanted to hire a nanny,” he says simply.

“Yes, but I told you that Miles and I are getting our own place soon. Besides, isn’t it a bit risky to hire someone to be here, what with the whole… situation between you and Selina?”

Arthur’s eyes flash slightly at the mention of Selina, but his voice is calm as he replies, “Mrs. White is aware of the situation, and has promised the utmost discretion. Furthermore, I can pay her even more to split her time between our homes should you choose to move. But if it were up to me, you and Miles would live here.”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. Briefly, the image of Arthur and Miles cuddling on the sofa flashes through my mind, and it makes my heart soften.

“Well, I’ll pay for my half if she splits her time between our homes,” I finally say.

Arthur’s jaw ticks. I can tell he doesn’t like the idea of me spending a dime, but to my surprise, he doesn’t argue.

The rest of the day goes relatively smoothly. Miles needs some coercing to come out of his room, but eventually, he comes out and allows us to introduce him to the new nanny. Her strict demeanor feels out of place against Miles’ personality, but I want to give her a chance. Perhaps they’ll both warm up to one another in time.

At dinner, however, my hopes are quickly squashed. Mrs. White insists on cooking, and emerges from the kitchen carrying plates of bland chicken breast, white rice, and steamed vegetables.

No seasoning, no sauce, and certainly nothing that Miles likes.

I can tell he’s not going to eat a bite the moment she sets his plate down in front of him and his face twists up with discomfort.

“Eat up, young man,” Mrs. White says, taking her seat across from him.

Miles is silent, but folds his arms and looks away. The nanny glances at me, and I sigh, offering her a small smile. “He doesn’t like spinach,” I say gently, hoping not to offend her. “You know how kids are—”

“I’ve never had a child refuse to eat,” she says, cutting into her chicken. “Let him get hungry enough, and he’ll eat.”

However, throughout the meal, Miles remains silent and as still as a statue, simply staring off into space. He hardly even moves a muscle, and it makes my heart twinge painfully every time I look at him.

I know this behavior well. When he’s really stubborn, he goes completely silent and unmoving. The first time it happened, it was unnerving and frustrating, and I can tell that it’s frustrating Mrs. White now if the rapid scraping of her cutlery against her plate is any indication.

Curious, I glance at Arthur, wondering what his reaction will be. To my surprise, there’s a small smile on his face.

“Why aren’t you eating, buddy?” he asks.

No answer.

“Eat your food,” Mrs. White practically barks, making me bristle and Miles flinch.

Arthur holds up his hand, effectively silencing her in that Alpha way of his. I tense slightly as he gets up from his chair and walks away. Is he angry? Frustrated? Disappointed?

But a moment later, he returns from the kitchen with a bottle of peanut sauce. Mrs. White’s face begins to tremble with rage as he dollops some of it onto Miles’ plate, then reaches over him and begins to cut up his chicken. He then mixes the chicken into the rice, scoops some up, and dips it into the peanut sauce before trying it himself.

“Mm,” Arthur says, smiling around the bite. “Delicious.”

Miles looks up at him. I can see his mouth water slightly now that the food actually looks somewhat appetizing. To my surprise, when Arthur scoops up another small spoonful and holds it out to him, Miles opens his mouth and tentatively tries it.

His eyes light up as he chews and swallows. Then, taking the spoon, he begins digging into his food with vigor, enjoying the peanut sauce until it’s all gone.

I’m pleasantly surprised. Arthur handled both the strict nanny and Miles expertly, exceeding all of my expectations.

Later, after I’ve put Miles to bed, I return to my studio to continue working on my next piece. But I’m not alone for long before Arthur enters the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“What was that earlier?” he asks.

I feel sick. I know exactly what he’s referring to.

For a moment, I hesitate, unsure whether to tell him or not. I still fear that he might look down on Miles if he knows the truth, and yet… Arthur does deserve to know. He’s Miles’ father, and if I’m going to coparent with him, then it’s only fair.

Finally, taking a deep breath, I tell him. “Miles is on the spectrum.”

Arthur stiffens. I do, too, bracing myself for the worst. But then his brow furrows, and he just looks… confused. “He shouldn’t be like that,” he says simply.

He leaves without another word, and I can feel my heart crack in a brand new place.