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“No,” she interrupted.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “No?”

“I— I mean,” she stuttered, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ears.

“I— want to get it for her myself.”

My eyes narrowed involuntarily. “I'll have the money transferred to y—”

“No.”

I stopped to really stare at her. She continued.

“I just want to get it for her by myself, without your money.”

As I stared at her, it dawned on me.

A gift. She wanted to give Sophie a gift. The first nanny or therapist to do that.

“Okay.”

She gave a curt bow.

“Thank you, sir.”

I watched her hips hurriedly sway as she took her leave.

The door closed, and I brought my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

If I wanted anything meaningful to come out of her stay in the mansion, I had to constantly remind myself of the guilt. I had to put James at the forefront of my mind.

I'd barely had the thought when my phone buzzed. Harsh thumping struck my chest when I glanced at the screen. James.

The next few seconds that followed were the worst seconds of my life.

My mind was a catastrophe. A disaster.

Forcing a greedy amount of air into my lungs, I answered the call.

“Hey, friend. Long time no talk.”

Perfect time to call me a friend.

“James.” I struggled to match his cheery tone.

“Yeah, it has been a while. How have you been?”

“Busy busy. How about you? How's life treating you these days?”

Even though my guilt-filled haze, I recognized a different answer. His response to my greetings was usually fine, not busy.

I also couldn't detect if he'd seen the news or not.

I barked out a chuckle. “The usual. Running the company.”

“Tell you what,” he whispered. I swallowed. “I didn't expect your response to be any different.”

Exhaling a breath, I spoke. “Yours was.”

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