Chapter 3
Sunday evening hit me like a freight train.
Adam had been gone for three days—storming off to LA the morning after his birthday disaster. Three days that had given me dangerous clarity. I'd spent every quiet hour updating my resume, reaching out to Columbia contacts about international positions.
I was done being his convenient arrangement.
Sophie sprawled across the living room sofa, Disney+ glowing on the massive screen. I sat cross-legged on the Persian rug, sorting through her schoolwork for Monday, when the elevator dinged.
Adam's footsteps echoed through the penthouse—familiar, confident, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. His luggage sat abandoned by the door like he owned the world.
I didn't look up from Sophie's math worksheets. Let him wonder. Let him feel what it's like when someone doesn't automatically jump to attention.
Three days of silence had crystallized something cold and sharp in my chest. I was leaving. Soon.
"Girls," Adam's voice carried an excitement I hadn't heard in months. "I have some news."
Sophie paused her show, sensing the weight in his tone. I kept sorting through her math worksheets, determined to maintain distance.
"Caroline is coming to New York," he announced. "She'll be staying with us for a while."
The world tilted.
Sophie shot up like a rocket, textbooks flying everywhere. "Mommy? Mommy's coming home?!" She launched herself at Adam, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Really? For real this time?"
"Really, sweetheart." Adam's smile was genuinely warm as he swept her up. "She'll be here Wednesday."
I stared at the scattered papers, my hands frozen mid-reach.
This is it. This is how it ends.
"Maya, isn't that wonderful?" Sophie's voice pulled me back to reality. She was beaming, practically vibrating with joy. "Mommy's coming home!"
I forced my mouth into what I hoped resembled a smile. "That's... that's great, Sophie. You must be so excited."
But my voice came out wrong. Thin. Brittle.
Adam's eyes found mine over Sophie's head, and something flickered there. Guilt? Warning?
"Maya," he said carefully, "I'll need you to maintain some professional distance while Caroline's here. You understand."
Professional distance. Right.
"Of course," I managed. "Whatever Sophie needs."
"Whatever keeps your perfect reunion intact," I added silently.
The next three days were torture disguised as preparation.
Monday morning, Adam cornered me in the kitchen while Sophie got dressed for school.
"I need you to clear out any... personal items from the master suite," he said, not quite meeting my eyes. "Caroline will be more comfortable if—"
"If there's no trace of the help in your bedroom?" I set down Sophie's lunch box harder than necessary. "Got it."
His jaw tightened. "Don't make this difficult, Maya."
"Wouldn't dream of it." I moved past him toward the coffee machine. "I'll move to the guest wing. Far from the family quarters."
My hands shook as I poured coffee. The word 'family' hung between us like a blade.
Tuesday was worse. Sophie wanted my help making a welcome banner for Caroline, her enthusiasm infectious and...heartbreaking.
"Make it sparkle, Maya!" she demanded, gluing glitter with abandon. "I want Mommy to know how much we missed her!"
We. The pronoun cut deep.
I helped her craft the perfect sign, swallowing my pain as she chattered about showing Caroline her room, her projects, her favorite spots in Central Park.
All the places I'd been with her. All the moments that would now be rewritten with the proper parent.
"Will you help me pick out clothes for Mommy's first dinner?" Sophie asked, glitter in her hair.
"Of course, sweetheart." I smoothed down her wild curls. "We'll make everything perfect."
Because that's what I did. I made things perfect for everyone else.
Wednesday afternoon, JFK Airport.
I sat in the back of Adam's Mercedes, watching him pace near the gate, checking his phone every thirty seconds. He'd changed shirts twice before leaving the penthouse.
When Caroline emerged from the terminal, everything made sense.
She was stunning. Not just beautiful—luminous. Blonde hair caught the afternoon light, elegant coat tailored perfectly to her slim frame. She moved like someone who'd never questioned her place in the world.
This was the woman who would always be Adam's wife in spirit, if not on paper. His equal. His match.
I watched their reunion through the windshield, my heart turning to stone. The way Adam's face transformed when he saw her. The careful but warm embrace.
This is what love looks like. And what I had was just convenience.'
Caroline's eyes found me through the glass as they approached the car.
"Caroline," Adam said as he opened the car door, "this is Maya Rodriguez, Sophie's tutor. Maya, Caroline Sterling."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sterling." I kept my voice professionally neutral.
"Please, call me Caroline." Her smile was polite but distant. "Thank you for taking such good care of my daughter."
My daughter. Not our daughter. Not Sophie.
"Sophie's a wonderful child," I replied. "Anyone would be lucky to work with her."
The drive home was suffocating. Adam and Caroline talked softly in the front seat about Sophie's school, her friends, her development. I might as well have been invisible.
Which was exactly the point.
Dinner was a masterpiece of domestic bliss.
I'd set the dining room table with Adam's finest china, fresh flowers, the works. Then I retreated to the kitchen to eat my own meal like the staff I apparently was.
Through the serving hatch, I watched the perfect family reunion unfold.
"Remember when we took Sophie to the Hamptons?" Caroline's laugh was musical. "She insisted on building that enormous sandcastle."
"Just like now with her French lessons," Adam agreed. "Maya says she's making excellent progress."
Caroline's eyes flicked toward the kitchen. "How thoughtful to have such dedicated help. We should discuss her education more comprehensively. Perhaps consider some... changes."
Changes. My stomach dropped.
Sophie bubbled with stories, basking in her mother's attention. She'd never looked happier.
I was just the interloper who'd kept things warm until the real wife came home.
Late that night, I lay in the narrow guest room bed, listening to murmured conversations from the master suite.
"Sophie needs stability," Caroline's voice drifted through. "I've been thinking... maybe we should try again?"
My heart stopped.
"I've wanted that for months," Adam replied, his voice thick with emotion I'd never heard him use about me. "Sophie deserves her family back."
"But we need to ensure there are no... complications."
"I understand. I'll handle everything."
Complications. That's what I was. A complication to be handled.
At 11:45 PM, familiar footsteps stopped outside my door.
"Maya, I know you're awake."
I didn't move. "I'm trying to sleep, Adam."
"Let me in. We need to talk about the new arrangement."
New arrangement. Jesus Christ.
"There is no arrangement," I said through the door. "Not anymore."
"Maya, be reasonable. Caroline being here doesn't change what we have."
I sat up, fury replacing hurt. "What we have? Your wife is in your bed, and you want to sneak down the hall to fuck the help?"
"Caroline isn't my wife. We're just—"
"Trying again. I heard." Not legally, perhaps, but in every other way that mattered. "While I'm supposed to what? Wait in the guest wing for your convenience?"
"You're being emotional," he said finally. "You'll regret this decision."
"The only thing I regret is wasting eighteen months on a man who sees me as a service subscription."
His footsteps retreated, but I heard him pause.
"Maya... I hope you're not planning anything dramatic. Sophie needs consistency."
Sophie. Always Sophie. Never Maya needs. Maya wants. Maya deserves better.
"Don't worry," I called after him. "I'll make sure the transition is smooth. Professional distance, remember?"
The next morning, Caroline found me in the kitchen at 9 AM. I was preparing Sophie's breakfast while she dressed for school.
"Maya." Caroline poured herself coffee with elegant efficiency. "I wanted to thank you again for everything you've done for Sophie. You've clearly been... devoted."
"Sophie's easy to love," I replied carefully.
"Yes, she is." Caroline leaned against the marble counter, studying me. "She needs stability now. Needs to understand who's temporary and who's permanent in her life."
The message was crystal clear.
"I understand."
"I'm sure you do." Caroline's smile was perfectly calibrated—warm enough to seem kind, cool enough to establish dominance. "After all, we both want what's best for Sophie. Sometimes that means knowing when to... step back."
"Of course."
"I knew you'd understand. You seem like such a sensible girl."
Girl. Not woman. Girl.
I turned back to Sophie's breakfast, hands steady despite the rage building in my chest.
This was the end of my fairy tale. Time to stop pretending I'd ever been anything more than a placeholder in Adam Sterling's perfect life.
That evening, checking my phone out of habit, a LinkedIn notification made my pulse jump—David Porter from the UN had responded to one of my weekend applications. An interview. Next week.