I can’t help a quiet chortle.
Yeah. Only took a complete career implosion and getting hired by a billionaire I accidentally slept with.
I grab my bag and head to Ben’s Corner. She’sexplaining to Rosa why Frederick needed his own snack.
“Because he was brave today,” Ben says very seriously. “Brave snails get crackers and apple slices.”
Rosa nods along like this makes perfect sense, and watches them. Watches Ben being a kid who gets to be anxious and messy and protected from performance.
This is why the boundaries matter.
This is why the work is worth it.
Even if it means standing between a five-year-old and the entire content-hungry Internet.
Even if it means becoming the person who says no when everyone else says yes.
I can do this.
I’malreadydoing this.
And for the first time in months, maybe years, that feels like enough.
18
Marco
The morning school run should be routine by now. Ben in her car seat. Me behind the wheel. Filepe running advance at the building. Same choreographed dance we do every weekday.
Except Ethan texted at 6 AM saying he wanted to “check in” and see Ben. Just swing by after his shift. Nothing weird about that. We’re best friends. He adores my kid.
But the timing feels deliberate. Like he’s watching for something.
Now he’s sitting in the back seat next to Ben while Jag drives for once, and I’m in the passenger seat. Ethan is showing Ben some stupid coin trick he learned from a patient’s kid. She’s giggling. Actually giggling on a Wednesday morning when she’s usually wound tight about classroom transitions.
Jess did this. Her systems. Her breathing techniques. Her refusal to let my daughter drown in anxiety.
Fuck, I want her.
I shift in the passenger seat and try to focus on literally anything else. Traffic. The weather. The fact we’re approaching the school and I need to be present for drop-off.
I’m doing my best trying not to think about how Jess looked bent over that notebook in my office. Or how her jeans fit her curves.
Or how she tastes.
“You’re doing good work, man.” Ethan’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “With Ben. She’s different lately. Happier.”
I glance back. He’s watching me with that paramedic intensity. The kind that sees through bullshit. Ben meanwhile is busy explaining to Frederick how the coin trick was done.
“She’s got good people around her,” I deflect.
“She’s got you. And Jess.” He says her name casually but something in his tone makes my spine tighten. “Speaking of which. She seems good. Like, really good. Working for you agrees with her.”
The words land like a sucker punch. Because yeah, it agrees with her. She’s thriving. Building something that matters. Taking care of my daughter better than anyone has since Isotta died.
And I’m the asshole who can’t keep his hands off her.
“She’s great with Ben,” I manage. Neutral. Professional. Like I didn’t have her pressed against my studio counter not too long ago.
