Babysitter Confessions Novels & Stories

He rolled his eyes, thankful she was too busy struggling to notice. “I’m not delusional!” “For your information, Ms. Gabriella,” he said, letting go of one of her hands, “I’m not your driver. I’m your babysitter. So, I need to know everything you do. Do you understand?” “Babysitter your ass!” she shouted, kicking him right in the thigh. You little demon! I think you just cracked my eggs! he screamed in his head.

He somewhat noticed the thick atmosphere and decided to give them privacy saying Alex should get to know his ' Babysitter ' better now that he was back. Alex frowned at Jack's choice of words. It obviously didn't sit well with him and both Jack and Ava noticed. " My babysitter? " Alex asked in a low, threatening growl and he looked like he was going to strangle Jack any moment. Ava tried to keep her laughter in as she looked at his fuming face. He looked like a child who was about to throw a tantrum. All her attempts to keep her face straight failed and she quickly placed a hand on her mouth to prevent her from bursting into laughter. She must have chuckled because both Alex and Jack directe

Three cups of coffee to bear the pain in my chest and to gather the strength to get up from that chair and leave. When the weekend arrived, Martina once again wanted to spend time with Eloá. My experience as a lawyer tells me that a mother has every right to be with her own daughter. But Martina is not trustworthy at all, especially when Eloá herself doesn't want to go with her. "You need to trust me, Oliver," Martina said, standing in the middle of my apartment's living room. "I hired another babysitter. It was a recommendation from Elena, someone much more responsible than that other idiot."

Slowly, her chest grew heavy as she remembered what her boss said earlier. “Secretary-slash-babysitter.” She wasn’t sure if he was joking, but the thought scared her. What if he really planned to treat her like a servant, giving her orders like a nanny? She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. If only she wasn’t so desperate, if only she didn’t need this job, she would have never accepted it. She would rather wash dishes at a small eatery than babysit an arrogant man who acted like a king. But what could she do? She couldn’t afford to be picky.

“Who, not what, we are waiting for Kiara…” “You called your babysitter along?” Natasha asked raising an eyebrow. She was yet to meet Kiara, but everyone in the house heard of how dad hired a babysitter to stop me from getting in trouble “what is she going to do? Stop you from fucking a girl? Or make sure that you use a condom”

Silas’s POV The yellow plastic wheel felt like a hot coal in my pocket as I sat in the darkness of my car. I didn't start the engine. I just watched the cottage, my silver eyes fixed on the flickering light behind her curtains. Babysitting. The lie was pathetic. It was a thin, desperate shield. You don't walk into a pediatrician’s office with a heart full of panic for a neighbor’s child. You don't hold pediatric records to your chest like a holy relic if they don’t belong to your own blood.

I heard Xavier's voice pierce the thin silence that braced my ears. I jolted back to reality, the panic gripping me. "We left her in your care," I pressed, my voice trembling. The babysitter’s face crumpled, her eyes welling up with tears. She looked helpless, and for a split second, I felt sorry for her—but fear quickly drowned out the sympathy.

Insignificant against the enormity of the violation. She looked at Hope. The baby burped—a wet, happy sound. Describes child as a stranger. They had taken her darkest, most terrified confession—a confession made in the sanctity of a doctor’s office, under the seal of confidentiality—and they had broadcast it to the world. She scrolled further. There were dates. Times. Notes about her refusal to visit the NICU. Notes about her weight loss. Notes about her "flat affect." It was an autopsy of her soul. And below the documents, the commentary began.

“I brought you back to save you from the world’s corruption, not to watch you throw yourself into it.” We broke up with no agreement. His words hung in the air like smoke, fogging my mind as I went about my work. I heard confessions that morning, offering absolution to sins that seemed trivial compared to the ones we committed in the tunnels. A lay employee confessed to theft. A beginner confessed to unclean thoughts. I said the usual words, but my mind was elsewhere. On Caterina’s soft gasps in the dark. On the chained book that contained centuries of deception.

If he wants a real answer, I will give it to him. He fixed his sitting position, so I started to say a word. “If you want the truth, Mr. Jaxon, I will say it to you. I am just a waitress when my acting parents died in an accident. It's been a year and I still don't know what happened to me or who I am. I don't even know who my birth parents were. The only thing I know is I need to survive every day because no one will do it for me. I need money to feed my empty stomach. Yes, I don't have any experience of being a receptionist, not like the others who are applying. I am just sharing a house with my best friend, but I have a lot of patience because of where I live. You know, in a slum,” I sai