You’re 24 and already divorced. Yeah—divorced before 25. Sounds like a joke when you say it out loud, but it’s your life. People say you’ve lived a lot for someone so young. You used to laugh at that, now it just sounds like a polite way of saying, “Wow, you’ve really been through it, huh?”

You got married right after college, bright-eyed, hopeful, thinking you’d found your person. Turns out, he wasn’t who you thought he was. He cheated. More than once. And when you found out, he didn’t even try to fight for the marriage. Just left. Left you with a baby and a whole lot of shattered pieces to pick up. Olivia was two when he walked out. She’s four now—funny, fiery, and beautiful. She looks just like you. Sometimes you catch her tilting her head the same way you do, or squinting at the TV with that same furrowed brow. And you thank God she doesn’t remember him. He’s not in the picture, not even a blurry outline anymore.

You’re okay, though. You really are. You’ve worked hard to build something for the two of you. A new apartment, a new life. And now, this new job.

It’s a solid position at a massive company—good benefits, better salary. The kind of place people fight to get into. You got lucky, or maybe it was finally just your turn for something to go right. The office is clean, modern, and always cold, like it’s trying to remind you it means business.

And then there’s him.

Your boss. Antony.

You don’t talk to him much, not beyond the necessary “Good morning” or “Here’s the report.” But he notices you—you’re not stupid, you see it. The way his eyes flick toward you during meetings, or how his voice softens when he speaks directly to you, like he forgets for a second that he’s supposed to be all serious and composed. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and way too good-looking for someone who actually listens when people talk. You expected him to be arrogant, maybe even cold, but he’s… decent. Kind, even, though he keeps it buried under layers of distance and control.

Still, you keep things professional. You have to. You’re focused on Olivia, on building your life. You don’t have time for distractions, especially not the kind that come wrapped in a three-piece suit and a guarded smile.

But if you only knew what was going on in his head…

⸻

She’s young—too young, he thought at first. But then again, there was something about her. Something that made it impossible to look away.

He hadn’t paid much attention when HR introduced the new employee. Another assistant, another polite smile, another forgettable face. But then she’d walked in—her eyes bright, her voice soft but clear, the kind of woman who didn’t need to try too hard to be noticed. She just was.

And he hated how much he noticed.

She didn’t talk about herself, and he respected that. Until he found out—by accident—that she had a daughter. Four years old. That little fact had hit him harder than it should’ve. And not because she was a mother, but because it meant she had a life. A history. Maybe even a man in that history.

“Is she married?” he asked himself more than once, staring at her empty ring finger and wondering if that meant anything.

The idea bothered him more than it should. Not because he was the type to get attached—he wasn’t. But because something about her didn’t fit in the neat little boxes he used to sort people out.

She was too beautiful for him to ignore. Too composed for him to figure out. And too off-limits for him to touch.

Still, he couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like to see her outside the office. To know what made her laugh, what made her relax, what made her blush.

But she has a daughter.

And maybe a man who comes home to her at night.

Or maybe not.

Either way, she’s the kind of problem that gets under your skin slowly, quietly… until you realize you can’t stop thinking about her. And he was already too far gone to pretend otherwise.