All Chapters of Lawfully Wedded Nanny (BWWM): Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The sea was the only thing that made sense anymore. It moved, it crashed, it roared—and still it came back to shore, still the same. Unlike the waves of her heartMonet stood on the narrow strip of beach outside the guesthouse, the wind tugging at her scarf. The sand was damp and cold, the kind that clung to skin like memory. She hadn’t meant to come here. She’d told the cab driver to drive, and when the road turned to salt air and gray water, she’d told him to stop.That had been three days ago.She hadn’t spoken to anyone since.Her phone buzzed occasionally—Florence, Maxwell, even one from mother Margaret—but she couldn’t answer. She didn’t have the right words for any of them. How did you explain a loss that didn’t have a name? The court hadn’t taken the children from her, not really, but it had taken something quieter, harder to reclaim—the illusion that love and belonging could make her stay permanent.She kicked at a seashell and watched it tumble away.Behind her, the sma

Juliet arrived five minutes early. She always did.The Abbott driveway was too quiet for a Saturday morning—no laughter, no sound of the children racing each other down the walkway the way they used to when Hannah was alive. The trees were billowing their leaves and branches, and the house itself looked like it was holding its breath.She stepped out of the car, heels clicking against the pavement, Harvey following at a slower pace behind her. He said nothing as she reached for the brass door knocker—he rarely did anymore—but she could feel the weight of his disapproval settle between them.When the door opened, Richard stood there. He looked older somehow, not by years, but by grief by exhaustion that had settled too deep to shake off.“Juliet,” he said flatly.“Richard.” Her smile was practiced, her tone civil. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember our arrangement.”“You’re right on time,” he said totally ignoring her jab. “They’re getting their things.”He stepped back, but didn’t invite h

The ocean at Whitecliff didn’t roar; it whispered. The waves came soft and slow, folding into themselves like they’d forgotten how to crash. Monet sat on the porch of the small seaside inn, her shawl pulled around her shoulders, a half-empty mug of tea cooling by her knee. It was the kind of place made for hiding pale wood walls, thin curtains that swayed with every breeze, and the faint smell of salt clinging to the linens. She’d chosen it because no one here knew her name. No one called her Mrs. Abbott. A gull cried overhead, lonely and sharp. She hadn’t opened her phone in three days. The children’s faces haunted her anyway Meredith’s brave little smile, Carter’s stubborn insistence that he wasn’t crying when he clearly was. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them again in that courtroom, looking so small in all that noise. The sound of tires crunching on gravel cut through the rhythm of the surf. She turned, expecting Florence, maybe Richard. But the car that rolled to a

The tide had shifted by the time Richard arrived—softening into that slow evening roll Whitecliff was known for. Monet stood on the porch, shawl pulled tight around her shoulders, her heart beating unevenly as his headlights crawled up the gravel drive.For a moment she couldn't move.Richard stepped out of the car like the weight of ten years sat on his shoulders. His eyes found hers immediately, and he froze not in shock, but in something softer… something like relief.“Monet.”His voice cracked, barely noticeable, but she heard it.“Richard.”He closed the car door, exhaling as if he’d been holding his breath from New York to the sea. His gaze studied her carefully—the tiredness she wore like a second skin, the softness in her eyes she didn’t know she still had.“You’re really here,” he murmured.“You found me,” she whispered.He shook his head. “No. You let me.”That shouldn’t have made her chest tighten the way it did.She stepped back, giving him space to enter. “Do you want to

Juliet’s mouth snapped shut. The words my mommy Monet struck her harder than the accusation of “chasing some woman.” Meredith rarely raised her voice. She rarely challenged Juliet at all. But now she glared at her grandmother as though Juliet were the one who had pushed Carter into the pond. Harvey ran a hand over his face. “We’re all stressed,” he murmured, trying—and failing—to sound soothing. “Let’s not—” “I’m not trying to fight,” Juliet said sharply, too quickly. Her eyes were bright, defensive. “I’m stating a fact. Richard should have been closer. He shouldn’t have gone to her after she ran off” “Grandma,” Meredith whispered, voice trembling with anger and fear. “Monet always comes back for us.” Juliet’s jaw clenched. “And I don’t? Just because I stayed away after Hannah's death, I'm now a bad grandma?” The silence that followed was answer enough. Meredith looked away. Carter wasn’t even in the room to defend Monet, but Juliet felt his absence like a shadow behind h