“Damn it!” What the hell do you think you’re doing? Dirty. Disgusting. That’s something you don’t touch.
You serve it. You keep an eye on him. But you never hold it.
Nathaniel Blake’s voice cut like broken glass. He burst into the room and ripped the girl from Maya Williams’ arms with a force that took her breath away.
“No, please, she just fell asleep.
“I couldn’t stop crying. “I don’t care,” he barked. You’re the maid. Not the mother. You are nothing.
Nothing.
The baby screamed the moment she separated from Maya’s chest. It was as if something broke.
His tiny hands scratched the air. Her sobs were sharp and desperate.
—Shh. Lily. Shh. Okay, baby.
“I’m here,” Nathaniel whispered.
But the girl cried even harder, writhing in his arms, her face flushed and out of breath.
“Why doesn’t it stop?” Maya froze, her heart racing.
“I tried everything,” he said quietly. It only sleeps if I hold it. That’s all.
He did not answer. He just stood there, with his daughter crying louder and louder.
“Give it back to me,” Maya said, firmly and quietly.
His jaw tightened.
“I told you to give it back to me.” She’s scared. You’re scaring her.
Nathaniel looked at the girl, then at Maya. His eyes were made of ice, but underneath there was something else: confusion, hesitation… and then defeat.
He gave Lily back. The baby snuggled up against Maya’s chest instantly, as if her body remembered where she was safe. The crying stopped in less than thirty seconds. Only a few broken sobs remained as she fell back into a fragile sleep.
Maya held her close, sitting down again on the carpet, rocking her gently, murmuring without thinking,
“I’ve got you.” I got you, little one.
Nathaniel stood still, silent, watching.
That night, no one spoke again, but the house felt colder. Maya left Lily gently in her crib hours later. She didn’t sleep at all.
In the morning, Mrs. Delaney found her sitting in the corner of the baby’s room, her eyes open and her hands still trembling.
“Just sleep with her,” whispered the older woman, looking at the girl who was sleeping peacefully.
Nathaniel said nothing at breakfast. His tie was crooked, the coffee intact.
On the second night, Maya put Lily to bed and pulled away. The baby screamed. Mrs. Delaney ran. Nathaniel tried. Nothing worked.
Only when Maya returned, her arms outstretched and whispering softly, did Lily calm down.
On the third night, Nathaniel waited outside the door of the room. It did not go in. Heard. There was no crying. Just a soft lullaby hummed halfway.
He knocked on the door.
“Maya.”
She opened the door.
“I need to talk to you.
She went out, closing the door carefully behind her.
“I owe you an apology,” Nathaniel said.
Silence.
“Why?” Maya asked, calmly, without softness or anger, just firmness.
“Because of how I spoke to you. Because of what I said. It was cruel. And it was wrong.
She nodded.
“Lily knows what’s real,” she said. He doesn’t care about wealth or titles. It only needs heat.
“I know. Hey… You won’t sleep unless you feel safe.
“I know,” he repeated. And I think she is not the only one.
Nathaniel looked down.
“I’m sorry, Maya.
A second of silence.
“I’m not going to give up,” she said. Not because of you, but because she needs me.
“I hope you stay,” he said. For her.
“For her,” Maya repeated.
But inside, something loosened. Something that I thought was closed forever. I didn’t trust him. But Lily did. And for now, that was enough.
The next morning, Maya Williams moved around the house like a shadow. The dining room table was shining, polished to perfection. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air.
But neither Nathaniel Blake nor Mrs. Delaney said a word as Maya passed by with a folded blanket in her arms.
“Good morning,” he said calmly, his eyes straight ahead.
Mrs. Delaney nodded stiffly. Nathaniel looked up from his tablet, his jaw clenched, but said nothing. It didn’t matter.
Maya didn’t expect kindness. I wasn’t there for that. I was there for the baby.
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