At my office, I booked flight tickets for me and my daughter for tomorrow evening and forwarded the itinerary along with my onboarding paperwork to the new company. 

They replied almost instantly. 

“Ms. Fields, we’ll have someone waiting at the airport to receive you. We’re looking forward to having you join us. See you.” 

I closed my laptop after reading the email. 

Just then, my colleague, Maeve Brooks, walked over and placed a small plush cat on my desk. 

“Ms. Fields, I heard it’s your daughter’s birthday today. This is just a little something for her,” she said. 

I gave her a warm smile. “Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.” 

Maeve waved it off casually. “Don’t mention it. Being a single mom can’t be easy. Just don’t carry it all on your own. Remember to ask her father for child support.” 

No one at the office knew that the CEO, Graham Ashford, was the father of my child. He never wanted anyone to know about us, never wanted the relationship public. 

We had a daughter together, but no marriage, not even a certificate. On paper, I was a single mother. 

I pulled at the corner of my mouth and said quietly, “He died. I have no one to ask for anything.” 

Maeve gave me a sympathetic look, patted my shoulder, and walked away without saying another word. 

I printed out my resignation letter. 

Just as I was slipping it into my bag, my phone rang. 

I picked up and heard a cute, excited voice. “Mommy! I got a hundred on my math test today!” 

My heart softened in an instant. “A hundred? My sweet girl, that’s amazing.” 

Naomi beamed through the phone. “Daddy said if I got a perfect score, he’d come home and celebrate my birthday with me! Mommy, do you think he’ll come tonight?” 

My chest tightened. I kept my voice gentle and said, “Daddy’s really busy with work. He might not make it tonight, but I’ll ask him, okay?” 

Her voice dropped, sounding disappointed. “Okay. I hope he’s not too busy today.” 

I felt something sharp twist inside me. 

No one understood how much my daughter craved her father’s love more than I did. 

I called Graham, but he didn’t answer. 

It had become like this after Naomi was born. Trying to reach him felt like calling into a void. 

I pressed my lips together, grabbed the resignation letter, and headed out. 

The moment I stepped out of the building, I stopped in my tracks. 

Right in front of me, Graham was crouched down in front of Emily Caldwell, gently cupping her foot in his hands, carefully massaging her ankle. 

Emily let out a soft whimper. “Graham, be gentle. That hurts.” 

Graham clicked his tongue. “I told you not to wear heels while shopping. Serves you right.” 

Even as he scolded her, his hands moved with care, gentler with every motion. 

I stared at him, noticing the tenderness in his expression. 

Graham had treated me well, but never like this. 

I remembered one time, when I’d walked the entire city in three-inch heels just to close a deal. When I got home, my feet were covered in blisters. 

Graham looked at me and said, “Next time, don’t wear heels if you can’t handle them.” 

Back then, I thought that counted as a concern. I’d convinced myself that even his cold remarks meant he cared. 

Now, watching him gently cradle Emily’s ankle, I realized how foolish I’d been. 

Emily smiled, and her toes curled upward to stroke along Graham’s jawline.