“Yes.”
“You haven’t taken a real vacation in three years.”
I stared at him.
“How do you know that?”
“I sign the payroll.”
“That doesn’t mean you know my life.”
“No.”
His eyes remained on mine.
“But I know you’ve been working until nine every night.”
I said nothing.
“And I know you haven’t missed a deadline in two years.”
“Adrian—”
“And I know,” he added softly, “that you look exhausted.”
Something inside me cracked.
I hated that he noticed.
I hated even more that I wanted someone to notice.
“I’m fine.”
He gave me a look.
“You’re not.”
Mia tugged my sleeve.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Can Mr. Kane come to dinner?”
Adrian actually smiled.
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s my boss.”
Mia considered that.
“Then you can quit.”
A few employees nearby suddenly became extremely interested in their laptops.
Adrian laughed again.
And somehow, despite everything, I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he said something that changed everything.
“Bring Mia with you to dinner.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“I have a meeting tonight that I was going to cancel.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
He glanced at Mia.
“But apparently I have an appointment.”
Mia beamed.
“With me?”
“With you.”
She grabbed his hand.
My breath caught.
He didn’t pull away.
That was the first mistake.
The second was letting him take us to dinner.
The third was realizing I enjoyed it.
That evening, Adrian didn’t take us somewhere extravagant.
He took us to a small Italian restaurant tucked away on a quiet street.
Mia talked for nearly two hours.
She told him about school.
Her stuffed elephant.
Her favorite cartoons.
Her hatred of broccoli.
And finally, the most important thing in her six-year-old world.
“Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
I nearly choked on my water.
“Mia.”
“What?”
“Please eat your pasta.”
Adrian hid a smile behind his glass.
“I think she’s making an observation.”
“She makes too many observations.”
Mia pointed her fork at him.
“You’re handsome.”
“I’ve heard.”
“And Mommy likes you.”
My face burned.
Adrian looked at me.
“Does she?”
“No.”
Mia nodded.
“She does.”
“Mia!”
“What? You look at him when you think he isn’t looking.”
Silence.
Adrian’s expression became unreadable.
Then he leaned back.
“She’s observant.”
“She’s six,” I muttered.
“Sometimes six-year-olds see things adults refuse to admit.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
And for the first time, I looked away.
Over the next few weeks, Adrian became part of our lives in ways I never expected.
He started asking Mia about school.
He remembered her favorite ice cream.
He bought Gerald a tiny suit.
He even attended her school play.
When Mia saw him sitting in the audience, she nearly screamed with excitement.
“Daddy!”
The entire auditorium turned.
I wanted to disappear.
Adrian didn’t.
He simply smiled.
After the play, I confronted him outside.
“You can’t let her call you that.”
“I know.”
“She’ll get attached.”
His expression softened.
“I already am.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He stepped closer.
“I said I’m already attached.”
My heart began pounding.
“Adrian…”
“I know this is complicated.”
“You’re my boss.”
“I know.”
“I have a daughter.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not interested in becoming someone’s temporary distraction.”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Neither am I.”
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
It was Mia’s school.
My stomach dropped.
The next morning, the principal called me into her office.
“There is a man claiming to be Mia’s father.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He says his name is Daniel Carter.”
The room tilted.
Daniel.
The man who had disappeared six years ago.
The man who had left before Mia was born.
The man I had spent years believing was dead.
“He showed us documentation,” the principal continued. “He says he wants custody.”
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