The sun was practically sizzling on the skin, and Santa Marinella beach was buzzing, like the sea was the only opportunity to save yourself from this terrible heat. Summer was usually spent in Italy, to let my son enjoy the beaches, crystal-clear water, fresh fruits, and vegetables. When you’re a single dad, balance is barely a thing—especially when you’re the CEO of a multi-billion-pound company.

But I manage.

I have to, because even the mere thought of Dorian growing up with only a babysitter made my skin crawl. His mum mentally checked out even before she left, so it’s always been me and Dorian. I had to be present, no. I wanted to be present in his life. So I established clear boundaries: no work during family time, holidays are spent together, and there are at least two vacations every year. My kid always comes first.

Like right now, when I’m splattered on the lounge chair with Dorian to my right, building his sandcastle, and Niall to my left, sipping on his cocktail and babbling about the proposal he planned for his girlfriend Amelia—and how I’ve been single for too long.

“You don’t even go on dates anymore” Niall says, fixing his hat.

“You know why” I keep my gaze focused on Dorian.

“Yeah, and he’s old enough for you to start looking for someone. Besides, he needs a mother figure in his life” Niall points out, and I know he’s right. Even if I’ll be the best dad in the world, he still needs a mum.

I shift slightly on the lounge chair, the woven fabric sticking to my back from the heat, and glance at Dorian. He’s hunched over his sandcastle like a tiny architect, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I’m not just going to bring someone into his life for the sake of it” I say finally, keeping my voice low. “It’s not a job vacancy, Niall”

“I know, mate” Niall sips his drink and squints out at the water, as if the horizon might hold the answers. “But you’re human. You deserve something for yourself too. Someone who makes you… I don’t know, less bloody serious all the time”

I let out a breath that’s half a laugh. “Less serious? With you around?”

“You know what I mean” he says with a grin. “Someone to look at you like you’re not just the bloke who runs a company or the dad with a million responsibilities. Someone who sees you”

The words linger longer than I expect. Someone who sees me. My eyes drift back to Dorian, who’s waving at me now, proud of the crooked little tower he’s built. I give him a big smile and a thumbs-up, because he deserves every ounce of encouragement I can give.

But Niall isn’t wrong. It’s been… years, if I’m honest. Years of putting Dorian first, years of quietly shelving any part of my life that wasn’t tied to being a dad or keeping the company running. It’s not that I regret it. Not for a second. But there are nights when the silence in the house feels heavier than it should.

Niall nudges me. “Look, that girl is just your type” My gaze drifts to you: a gorgeous young woman reapplying sunscreen to your arms. Beautiful long hair, fit body, a fair amount of tattoos. Niall was right—you are the type I usually go for.

“She’s beautiful” The words leave my mouth before I can stop myself. Dorian blinks at me, grabs his ball, and not intentionally at all, kicks the ball your way.

Niall snickers, and I shake my head as I watch Dorian dart after his ball.

“Even your son is trying to matchmake you. That’s saying something, Harry”

You lift your head up and smile warmly at Dorian as you pick up the ball, handing it to him. I swear I could melt at the sight of it—so you’re good with kids.

“There you go, little buddy” you smile, and Dorian is even more delighted to hear your British accent—something familiar that he doesn’t get much in Italy.

“Thank you” he beams. “My daddy thinks you’re pretty” he says shamelessly, pointing my way. “I think you’re pretty too”

I groan and cover my face with one hand. “Dorian…” I mutter, but it’s useless. The damage is done. Niall’s choking on his drink, shaking with silent laughter, and I swear I can feel the tips of my ears burning.