Sunlight creeping through the gap in the curtains drew Betsy from the depths of her sleep. Groaning loudly, she cracked open her eyes. Ten more minutes, she thought, just ten more.

Pulling the duvet over her head, Betsy tried to salvage the last vestiges of her dream but it was gone and so was the good feeling it had brought. The sensation of being content, safe and loved had been so consuming she had wanted to recapture it for as long as possible. Instead, her mind decided to kick into overdrive.

The week had been long. After the first night, where her new boss had kindly carried her up the stairs, she had barely laid her eyes upon him for more than a second. He left early in the morning after sharing breakfast with his children and he returned only after she had gone to her bed. Betsy always made sure she and the children fell asleep in their own beds, so she wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of being carried to bed again. Once was more than enough.

Yet because of his continued absence, Betsy felt dread at the conversation which was to come. They still hadn't talked, even after his barked insistence they would. She didn't want to have a conversation with the man. The thought of what would be spoken was enough to set her heart skittering in her chest. But the trial period was almost over – surely they would need to talk soon.

Unable to recapture her sleep, Betsy threw back the covers and climbed from the bed. Slipping on the bathrobe over the top of her cartoon character pyjamas, she left the safety of her room.

Betsy arrived in the kitchen just as the elderly Ms Reed turned away from the cooker with a steaming pan of hot sizzling bacon.

"Morning dear," She said through smile. "Breakfast?"

The white haired woman didn't wait for a response but instead shooed her out of the kitchen with a snap of a tea towel.

Laughing, the blonde backed out of the kitchen before coming to an abrupt halt, the breath stolen from her lungs. Betsy wasn't sure why, but she had assumed the head of the Davenport household would be absent like he had every other morning. But they were all there. Nicholas and both of the children were seated around the large solid wood dining table.

Standing in the doorway to the dining room, it took a moment for Betsy to drag her gaze away from the powerful man sat at the head of the table. He looked different. It was the first time she had seen Nicholas Davenport without the power suit. So far the only time she had laid eyes upon him this week, the man had already been dressed to take on the world. Not that she was complaining. It was an impressive look, one which held her enraptured every time she allowed herself to stop and enjoy the view.

Closing her eyes for a few long seconds, Betsy drew in a steadying breath. He was her employer. Claire was depending on her to keep this job. Daydreaming about the delicious Davenport was not part of it.

Nicholas was dressed in a pair of black pyjama bottoms with Monster from The Muppets all over them and an old grey t-shirt. Everything about him was adorably rumpled. There was even stubble covering his jaw. Betsy dragged her lingering gaze away just as the man himself lifted his face from his coffee mug to stare up at her.

Unwilling to meet his gaze just in case he could spot how flustered she was, Betsy took a seat as far away from him as she could. There were at least three seats separating them on both sides but it also meant she was sat directly opposite him.

"Morning," she greeted before dropping her gaze down to her hands.

"Morning!" the children chirped back at her.

A loud groaning sound drew Betsy's gaze upwards in time to see the two children dragging out chairs on either side of her. Both children climbed up on the chairs, bodies bouncing in their seats as they swung their legs back and forth under the table. They each had grins on their faces as they stared up at Betsy.

"Hey kiddos," Betsy smiled down at the children, ignoring the eyes boring into her face.

"Are you going to play with us today?"

Reaching out a hand, Betsy tucked the young girl's hair behind her ear and shook her head.

"No, I have to go out today." She said. "You can play with your brother. Maybe we can do some colouring when I come home?" She added upon seeing the young girl's crestfallen face.

"My driver will take you where you need to go." Nicholas stated with his gaze now firmly upon the newspaper which was laid out of the table before him.

"That's not necessary, I can drive myself."

Nick lifted his eyes from the paper, a crease forming between his brows as he frowned. "You have a car? I was under the impression you got a taxi here."

"I do. And I did. Get a taxi that is." Betsy replied just as Ms Reed came through the door with a tray full of breakfast. "My car broke down on my way here. The mechanic dropped it off a few days ago after the repairs were done."

Nick's eyes bored into the woman's forehead. "What car do you have?"

"Oh, it's nothing special. It's just an old run around to get me from A to B."

Sitting up straighter in his seat, Nick used his dark eyes to pin the blonde in place. "You don't happen to be talking about the rust bucket which turned up on my drive earlier this week. I had that wreck disposed of."

Betsy's mouth dropped open on a gasp. "You got rid of my car?"

"It was a hazard. I was doing you a favour."

Her face turned red as outrage overwhelmed her. Pushing back her chair from the table as she stood abruptly, Betsy glared at her new boss. "How dare you? It was my property! You had no right to do that. I can't afford a new car."

Nicholas blinked at the irate blustering woman. "I apologise that I have saved you from the death trap. I will think before acting next time."

The two Davenport children sat in their seats, heads quickly looking from one adult to another. Noting the little wobble to Tommy's lips and the sheen appearing in his eyes, Betsy quickly tried to remove the anger from her face. Her hands instinctively reached out to soothe the small boy, her hands carding through his hair even as her gaze remained locked on the infuriating man before her.

Using the voice he usually left incompetent employees, Nick added. "You WILL use my driver today."

Betsy opened her mouth to argue but with a quick glance at the children and the flustered Ms Reed hovering in the doorway, she responded curtly. "Fine. But we will be discussing this later."

The man before her shrugged his shoulders and picked up his cutlery from the table as Ms Reed set his food before him.

"Whatever you want Miss Jones."

Resisting the urge to growl, Betsy sat back down on her chair and instead focused her attention on the two children. She would back down for now, for the children's sake, but she and her new boss were going to have a talk.

**

An hour later Betsy was dressed and ready to face the world. It was the first time since working for the incredibly wealthy man that she had actually had time to herself. Due to his high regard for privacy, there were a limited number of people who were authorised to enter his home and as a result, there were limited people Betsy could speak to who were above the age of five.

Not that she disliked the children. It was quite the opposite.

Sliding in to the back seat of the car, her heart warmed at the sight of the three people stood on the front door step. Nicholas, dressed now in a pair of jeans and a plain tee shirt, stood with his arms folded across his chest. His face was a stony mask as he watched on. It was the two small people at flanking him which affected her so much. Both Tommy and Delilah were waving with enthusiasm, their arms moving so hard that their entire bodies were swaying with the motion.

Rolling down the window, Betsy stuck her arm through the window and waved back at them.

The car pulled away smoothly. She only stopped herself from waving when the house disappeared behind a hedge and they disappeared from view.

"Where to, Miss Jones?" the man behind the wheel asked, his eyes meeting hers in the rear view mirror for a moment before turning his attention back on to the road.

"In to town will do. I have a few errands to run." She replied.

Already Betsy could feel exhaustion flooding through her system at the mere thought of what was to come. Her solicitor had called her in to finalise the paperwork. Rubbing her tips of her finger across the patch of skin where her wedding bands had once sat, the blonde felt sick to her stomach.

The car pulled to a stop a few streets away from her required destination. For some reason, she didn't want her new boss to know what she was doing. Not that it was any of his business but for a man who obviously loved his wife deeply, Betsy couldn't help but think he would disapprove of the action she was about to complete.

Slipping the black suit jacket over her pale pink blouse and blue jeans combination, Betsy checked herself in the glass of a dress shop window. Then in an attempt to gather courage, she pulled back her shoulders, drew in a deep breath and took those final steps.

Mr Markson of Markson and Sons met her in the foyer, his eyes sad even as he smiled down at her. Shaking her head at the old man, she pulled his rounded form into a hug.

"Don't be sad for me," She murmured into his jacket which smelt like cigar smoke.

Pulling back, Betsy smiled up at the older man and placed a hand on his cheek which was covered with a neatly trimmed white beard. "I wanted this just as much as Nathan did."

Mr Markson nodded as a tear dropped down on to his cheek before turning away abruptly.

"Follow me."

He led her into the small conference room.

Nathan Markson Junior stood before an open window, the wind ruffling his hair even as he appeared to be lost in thought. As the door clicked shut and announced their arrival, he spun on his heel and offered a pained smile as soon as his eyes fell upon Betsy.

He was a short man standing at little more than five foot five but he wasn't a bad looking. With short brown hair, caramel coloured skin he had inherited from his mother and a smile which could charm even the hardest of hearts he was certainly a catch. And then there were the dimples. When he smiled, truly smiled, a dimple would form on each side of his face.

"How are you?" He asked uncertainly, his eyes moving up and down her form in an attempt to assess her wellbeing.

"I'm fine." She replied. "How is Sarah?"

Nathan's expression changed in that instant, his face coming alive. For a moment jealousy welled with the blonde's heart as she stared up at her Ex-Husband. He had never looked at her that way in all the time they had been together. Even when things had been at their best he hadn't felt the depth of emotion he felt for Sarah. It was the sad but painful truth.

"She's good. The morning sickness is not agreeing to well with her though."

As soon as the words were out, Nathan paled. Biting his lip he stared at his ex-wife with wide eyes.

Nodding her head, Betsy stared down at her hands for a long moment, taking in a steadying breath before she could meet his gaze once more.

"I remember that well. Tell her to try ginger. It always helped me." Her voice cracked as she pushed the words past her lips in order to break the silence. She forced a smile on her face before eying the brown envelopes laid upon the table. "Is that it?"

"Yes, that's it." Nathan murmured, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head.

Taking a step closer to the table, Betsy picked up the envelope but did not dare open it. She knew what it would hold. With both parties agreeing to the divorce and the entire proceedings being amicable, the Markson's had managed to get the entire proceedings completed in record time.

The decree absolute would finalise what both Nathan and Betsy had known for months – their marriage was dead.

"I'm sorry. You know that don't you." Nathan spoke softly, his voice cutting through the air and breaking through the melancholy.

"Don't be. It was for the best." Betsy whispered, her voice cracking on the words. "We were making each other miserable. Sarah will give you everything you want in the way that I can't."

Both shed a tear at this, the pain of their loss feeling just as fresh and debilitating as the day their son had died. Guilt was an ever present demon, weighing down upon them both.

Mr Markson Senior took this moment to wrap his arms around the trembling young woman and pulled her into his hold.

"You may no longer be married to my son but you will always be a part of our family."

"Thanks Dad," She murmured, taking the offered comfort as the older man chuckled above her.

After a few moments, she pulled away and tried to regain her composure though she was sure there was little chance of that.

It was an end of an era, one that had been filled with love and heartache. And yet now it was over and done with all she felt was sad and strangely relieved. Sad they hadn't been able to make it work and relieved because the love had been gone longer than it had existed. The marriage tying the two of them together had just been a weight bearing down upon both of them.

Now they were both free.

Wiping away the wetness from her face, while clutching the papers to her chest, Betsy took one last look at both men. Within her heart, she knew it would be a long time before they would all be healed enough to see each other again.

"I better get going. My new boss is a drill sergeant." Backing from the room, she paused on the threshold. "Even with everything going on, I'll miss you both. Goodbye."

Before either man could formulate a response, Betsy hurried from the building and back out on to the streets. Quickly she became part of the crowd of Saturday morning shoppers. For a while, she just needed to be alone and away from reality and the only way to do it was to be amongst all of these strangers.

Ducking her head and hugging the envelope to her chest, Betsy walked and walked until her feet were sore. Finally, only when rain started to fall from the sky, she returned to the waiting car and allowed herself to be driven to the Davenport home alone.