I watched her for ten minutes before my heart rate returned to normal. I didn’t bother trying to sleep after that, I justshowered, dressed, and went to my office. I worked through emails and reports until dawn broke over the city.
Gianna appeared at seven with coffee.
“Good morning, sir.” She set the cup on my desk. “Your schedule for today. Lily has tutoring at nine. You have a meeting with the investors at noon, and Ms. Tinsley’s therapy session is also scheduled for noon.”
I looked up from my computer. “Reschedule the investor meeting.”
“Sir?” She looked surprised.
I looked up at her. Gianna had worked here for two years and she knew when to push and when to back off.
This was apparently a pushing moment.
“Move it to next week. Ms. Tinsley’s session stays at noon.”
“Mr. Axel was very specific that today was the only day he’s available this month.”
“Then he can wait until next month.”
Axel Irving, the top investor who had shown interest in my latest project.
She nodded, “I’ll inform his office. Will there be anything else?”
“That’s all.”
She left without further comment. At nine, Lily’s tutor arrived, Mrs. Florence, some cheerful middle aged woman who ensured Lily kept up with her academics.
I watched from my office doorway as she tried to engage Lily in a math lesson. Lily stared at her with those careful eyes and said nothing, just pointed to answers occasionally, nodded or shook her head. She made it through the full hour without a single word.
The tutor left looking discouraged but determined. Give her another month. I returned to my office and worked through more emails, tried not to check the time every five minutes.
I needed to ensure Lily was getting quality care—that Sarah was focused and present and not falling apart the way she’d been yesterday. That my daughter’s therapy wasn’t being compromised by whatever crisis Sarah was dealing with.
That’s all, nothing more.
At eleven fifty-eight, I heard the elevator.
Sarah had arrived.
I stood, and straightened my tie. Lily was the only reason why I had rescheduled this meeting.
Nothing else.
I told myself that again as I stood behind my desk, hands braced on the polished wood, staring at the elevator doors like they’d personally offended me. I didn’t reschedule a meeting with a man who controlled half the funding for my next project because of Sarah Tinsley. I did it because Lily needed stability. Because her therapist needed to be competent, not collapsing in the middle of a restaurant.
But the truth pressed at the back of my mind like a bruise I didn’t want to touch.
I hadn’t liked seeing someone put their hands on her.
Not even a little.
I exhaled sharply and turned away from the elevator, pacing once across the office. The city stretched out beyond the windows, glittering and indifferent. I’d built my life on that indifference. On control. On never letting anything or anyone get close enough to disrupt the order I’d carved out of chaos.
And yet Sarah had been disrupting it since the moment she sang “Happy Birthday” to my daughter in that restaurant.
I sat down, opened my laptop, and tried to focus on the quarterly reports. The numbers blurred. My mind kept drifting back to the way she’d looked tonight—wet hair clinging to her face, eyes bright with fury, voice shaking when she’d snapped back at me.
Most people didn’t talk to me like that. Most people didn’t dare.
