He Signed Me As Nanny Not Wife For Ten Years Chapter 01

He Signed Me As Nanny Not Wife For Ten Years Chapter 01

In 1980, Adrian Whitmore finally received his long-awaited transfer appointment to New York.

But after he got his visa approved, the only people he took with him were his late brother’s widow and his nephew.

The day he left, he stood at the harbor terminal with the family sponsorship form clenched in his hand.

”Evelyn, I can’t spend the rest of my life being called heartless,” he said. ”People would point at me and say I took my wife and daughter to New York for a better life while leaving my sister-in-law and her son behind to suffer.”

”I’ll take Sienna over first and get them settled. Once everything is stable, I’ll come back for you.”

After that, he boarded the ship without looking back.

What he left me with was his paralyzed mother and our three-year-old daughter.

In my previous life, Adrian did come back for me, just as he had promised.

But what he placed in front of me was a live-in domestic worker contract.

”The policies are strict right now,” he told me. ”This is the fastest way for you to get a visa. We’re family. The job title is just a formality.”

I believed him.

So I renewed that worker contract year after year.

Until my daughter became undocumented, had nowhere to go for medical care, and died in my arms after a fever that would not break.

Until my own work visa expired, I was arrested for overstaying, and when I begged for help with the marriage certificate Adrian had given me, I was told it was fake.

With no one to bail me out, I died in a damp, freezing deportation transport hold.

That same night, Adrian put on fireworks over New York Harbor for Sienna’s birthday.

After being reborn, I submitted an application for a rural medical service placement in northern New Mexico.

This time, I would devote my life to public service.

Later, Adrian came looking for me like a madman, begging me to bring our daughter home and reunite with him.

From behind the door, my daughter asked him in a clear, childish voice, ”Mister, who are you looking for?”

…

When the hospital director saw the rural medical service application I had submitted, he frowned.

”Dr. Hart, this placement is meant for newly graduated doctors and don’t have family responsibilities. You…”

I stared at my signature on the application.

In my previous life, what I had submitted was a resignation letter.

To reunite with Adrian in Manhattan, I gave up my job and carried that worker contract with me, foolishly believing I was running toward love.

For ten full years, I lost count of how many times I renewed that contract.

I also lost count of how many times I was disappointed.

Adrian Whitmore and Sienna Prescott’s names were listed side by side on the contract.

They were the employers with permanent residency eligibility.

I was only a cheap live-in maid from back home, someone who had to sleep near the stairwell landing.

Every time I renewed the contract, I asked Adrian carefully, ”Adrian, Nellie has no papers. She needs to go to school and see a doctor. I can wait, but our daughter can’t.”

”We are married. Why hasn’t my family sponsorship gone through?”

Guilt would flash through Adrian’s eyes.

”Evelyn, the policies keep changing. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

”Don’t rush me. Besides, isn’t the most important thing that we’re together as a family?”

The exhaustion in his voice made every grievance catch in my throat.

Sometimes, I even wondered if I was making things too hard for him.

The day Nellie’s fever would not break, the rain was heavy.

The medicine cabinet had been empty for a long time. Adrian had said he would restock it when he had time, but he had forgotten such a small thing.

That morning, Adrian had gone with Sienna and Noah to an art exhibition, and they still had not come home.

I had no choice.

I carried Nellie to the gallery to look for him, only to be stopped by security.

”No pass, no entry!”

Nellie was burning hot in my arms.

I begged the guard to let me in. I begged him to help me find Professor Adrian Whitmore from Columbia.

A short while after the guard went inside, he came back with a dark expression.

Then he lifted his foot and kicked me hard in the chest.

”Crazy woman! You almost cost me my job!”

”Professor Whitmore is inside with his wife and son. Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

I fell hard to the ground, shielding my daughter in my arms.

The moment I heard the guard’s words, something in me snapped.

I rushed forward like a madwoman.

”Adrian Whitmore, come out! Do you know your daughter is burning up with fever? I’m begging you. Come out!”

I screamed hysterically like a lunatic.

In the end, the guards threw me into the rain like a piece of trash.