Page 41 of His to Protect
Her eyebrows went up. "I was working on it all evening. I took breaks."
"You're supposed to be resting. Not staying up late."
"Riv, I'm fine. My vitals have been perfect. Mireya checked them this afternoon."
Hearing her name made something twist in my chest.
"I don't care about your vitals," I said. Sharper than I meant. "You need sleep. Finish tomorrow."
Emma stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Go to bed."
"You're being weird."
"Emma—"
"Fine. Whatever." She closed her textbook. Hard. "I'm going to bed. Happy now?"
I didn't answer. I just turned and walked back down the hallway.
Mireya was in the kitchen, putting away containers with careful movements. She looked up when I entered.
"Is Emma okay?"
"She's fine. Just up too late."
"She was doing homework. I checked on her every hour like you asked."
"Maybe you should’ve told her to stop earlier." The words came out harsher than I meant.
Mireya's hands stilled. "Excuse me?"
"Emma needs rest. You're monitoring her recovery."
"I'm monitoring her. Her vitals are perfect. She's doing everything right." Her voice stayed calm, but there was steelbeneath it. "She's fifteen. Taking AP classes online. Sometimes homework takes longer."
"Sometimes someone needs to enforce appropriate boundaries."
"I did enforce boundaries. I made sure she took regular breaks. I checked her vitals and reminded her to stay hydrated." Her eyes flashed. "I did exactly what you hired me to do."
Part of me knew she was right. I knew I was being unfair. But the anger from August, from the surgery, from everything, needed a place to go.
“Did you put today’s mail in my office?” I asked abruptly.
She blinked, visibly confused. “Yes. I thought?—”
“I asked you to leave it on the coffee table. Not my office.”
“I know. But there was a lot today, and the coffee table had Emma’s art stuff on it. So I just?—”
I interjected. “So you ignored what I asked.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Her eyes flashed.
“Are you seriously upset about where I put the mail?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m upset that you’re not following simple instructions.”
