I slammed the file shut, my heart racing. This was torture. Working for him, being near him every day, pretending I didn't know exactly how his lips felt against my skin, how his voice sounded when he lost control.
Pretending I hadn't spent the last two years raising his son.
I checked the baby monitor on the counter. Leo was still sleeping peacefully, his little chest rising and falling. My beautiful boy. Cassian's son.
The guilt hit me like a physical blow. Cassian didn't know. He had a child—a bright, curious, loving little boy—and I was keeping them apart. What kind of person did that make me?
But what choice did I have? The morning after our night together, I woke up alone. No note. No number. Nothing but the memory of his body against mine and the ghost of his touch on myskin.
His words from that night echoed in my mind.
I don't do relationships,he had told me at the bar, his voice certain.I don't do attachments.
I'd heard the warning but hadn't fully believed it until I woke to an empty bed. What was I supposed to do—track down a man who'd made it clear he wanted nothing permanent? Tell him I was pregnant when he'd explicitly said he didn't want attachments?
The choice had been made for me the moment he walked out that door.
I hadn't expected to fall pregnant. Hadn't expected to feel such fierce, protective love for the tiny life growing inside me. And I certainly hadn't expected to ever see Cassian Barone again.
Until I walked into his office for that interview.
My phone buzzed with a text. I glanced at the screen.
Maya:You still up? Leo good for tomorrow?
I smiled despite my exhaustion. Maya Chen had been my saving grace since Leo was born. My neighbor, friend, and the owner of Sunshine Steps, the in-home daycare where Leo spent his days while I worked.
Me: Still up. Drowning in work. And yes, dropping him off at 7:30 if that works.
Maya:Perfect. Wine and debrief tomorrow night? You look like you need it.
Me:God, yes. 8?
Maya:It's a date. Now go to bed, crazy woman.
I set my phone down, grateful not for the first time that I'd found Maya. A divorced mother of two teenagers, she'd started her daycare after her own kids entered high school. She watched four children in her apartment, which was directly below mine—a godsend for a single motherwith no family support.
The apartment was rent-controlled, inherited from a distant cousin who'd moved to Florida. Even at a below-market rate, affording it on an assistant's salary was tight—especially with Leo's medical expenses. He’d had trouble breathing a few times and had to be hospitalized. Even with his improving health, the next episode could happen any time. My savings from my previous job as a data analyst at a security consulting firm had kept us afloat these past few years, but those funds were dwindling. I needed this job at Barone Industries. Needed the higher salary and the benefits.
It was why I'd been desperate enough to apply in the first place.
The clock now read 3:04 a.m. I needed sleep, but my mind was still racing. I gathered the Calabrese documents and tucked them neatly back into the folder. I'd finish reviewing them in the morning before heading to the office.
As I passed Leo's room, I couldn't resist peeking in. He slept on his back, arms flung wide, dark hair tousled against his pillow. So much like his father, even in sleep. The same strong jaw, the same thick lashes. The same intensity, even at two and a half years old.
"I love you, little man," I whispered, carefully closing his door.
In my bedroom, I changed into an oversized t-shirt and sat on the edge of my bed. Sleep wouldn't come, not with memories of Cassian haunting me. Not with the weight of my secret pressing down.
I reached under the bed and pulled out a shoebox. Inside were the few precious mementos I'd kept of my pregnancy and Leo's birth. Things I couldn't display but couldn't bear to throw away.
The first ultrasound photo, a grainy black-and-white image where Leo had been nothing more than a bean-shaped blur. I remembered lying on that table alone, terrified and exhilarated in equal measure when the technician had pointed to the screen and said, "There's your baby."
Leo's hospital bracelet, tiny enough to fit around my thumb. The day he was born had been the most exhausting, painful, wonderful day of my life. Maya had been with me, holding my hand through twenty hours of labor. When they'd placed Leo on my chest, red-faced and screaming, I'd known I'd do anything to protect him.
At the bottom of the box lay a cocktail napkin from the hotel bar where I'd met Cassian. The Palms Resort logo was printed in gold on white paper, now slightly yellowed with age. I'd kept it as a reminder of how quickly life could change. One decision, one night, and nothing was ever the same.
I brushed my thumb over the napkin, remembering how nervous I'd been sitting at that bar. How alive I'd felt when Cassian sat down beside me.
