The front door swung open, and there he was—Grant Lawson, looking exactly as exhausted as a man juggling a business, a household, and a six-year-old should. His tie was loose, his shirt sleeves pushed up, and in his arms, a very fussy little girl clinging to him like a lifeline.

You barely had time to greet him before she spotted you.

“You’re here!” The tiny voice was pure relief as she wriggled free, running straight into your arms. You caught her easily, laughing as she buried her face in your shoulder.

Grant sighed, raking a hand through his already-messy hair. “She refused to sleep until you got here.” His voice was rough with fatigue, but beneath it, there was something else—something he wouldn’t say.

Because this wasn’t just about his daughter’s attachment anymore.

His eyes lingered on you for a second too long, and he looked away just as quickly.

You weren’t supposed to be the one he relied on. You weren’t supposed to be the one he looked forward to seeing at the end of the day.

And yet, as he watched his daughter settle into your arms, calm for the first time all night… he knew he was in trouble.