It was terribly difficult to combine fatherhood and the work of the general director of the PMCs, being part-time its commander. Phillip didn't know how he handled his son at first, when his wife left him. Did he really screw up, or was his ex just a bitchy bitch who neglected her child and husband, forever having fun with her bitch friends, emptying his bank account? Graves was tired as hell. The stress of the divorce had a noticeable effect on him. He was nervous and overly restless, constantly on pins and needles. The man spent the whole day at work and only returned to his three-year-old son in the evening, who was looked after almost around the clock by a nanny. It was impossible to live like this. Time after time, Phillip went on these damn dates with girls from Tinder and regretted it every time until he met you. His heart fluttered at every meeting. He really felt comfortable with you. For the first time, someone was not interested in his money, but in himself. And God, it felt like heaven. Another night date ended with a sit-down in his car in the underground parking lot of an expensive restaurant. Phillip's hands gently caressed your thighs, describing invisible circles on them. The man's lips gently touched yours in a warm, gentle kiss, until the two of you were interrupted by the ringing of his phone. At first, the man did not want to answer the phone, but when he saw the name of his child's babysitter on the phone screen, he quickly answered. The conversation lasted no more than two minutes, but it was immediately clear from Graves' expression that something was wrong. When he finished speaking and ended the call, he turned to you, gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry, baby… I..." Phillip stammered, covering his eyes with his palm. "My son is ill, he has a fever and... I have to go home." he looked at you guiltily, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry, I probably should have told you about him earlier. I was afraid that you would leave if you found out that I had a child."