Earl adjusted his collar in the hallway mirror, feeling the weight of returning to work after being home for days. The moments he'd shared with Evelyn and Leo were unexpected—sweet, even. But now, reality called. As CEO, there was no room for lingering in domestic reverie. His usual stoic mask slipped back into place as he prepared to leave.
In the living room, he found Leo standing on wobbly legs, clutching his stuffed elephant tightly. The moment Leo saw Earl dressed for work, his little face scrunched up, and tears welled in his eyes. He toddled forward, arms outstretched, as if sensing the separation.
"Dada?" Leo mumbled, his voice quivering.
Earl stopped, the word making his chest tighten. He wasn't Leo's father—he reminded himself. This was temporary. And yet, the sight of the boy's tears gnawed at something inside him. Earl knelt down, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that crept up.
"No, Leo, I'm just Earl," he corrected softly, though his voice lacked its usual firmness. "I have to go to work."
Leo's face crumpled further, his little body trembling with the effort of holding back sobs. When the tears spilled over, Earl sighed and lifted him into his arms. He wasn't used to this—the raw, unfiltered emotion of a child.
"Hey, now," he said, his voice low, calming. "I'll be back later. You'll be with Evelyn. She'll take good care of you."
Leo clung to him, burying his face in Earl's chest. For a moment, Earl stood there, holding the child close, feeling the small weight of him. It reminded him of something he hadn't thought about in years—a life he once dreamed of but had buried deep.
After a moment, Leo's sobs subsided into soft hiccups, and Earl gently set him down, though the boy's wide eyes remained locked on him, filled with an unspoken plea. Earl ruffled his hair, straightened up, and turned to leave.
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At the office, the usual atmosphere greeted him: a cold, professional hum of efficiency. His steps echoed through the pristine hallways, his presence commanding silence wherever he went. People nodded respectfully, but no one dared approach him casually.
Earl had always preferred it this way. Distance kept things simple—no mess, no drama.
As he walked past the break area, something caught his attention. His temporary assistant, Amber, stood alone by the coffee machine, her posture stiff as she glanced nervously toward a group of coworkers who were murmuring under their breath. Earl didn't need to hear the words to understand. The glances, the smirks—they were bullying her.
He stood in the shadows for a moment, observing. He had little tolerance for office politics or personal vendettas, and this situation was becoming an issue. Amber had been professional and competent so far, yet her presence had stirred unnecessary gossip. Her resemblance to Nathalie didn't help, but Earl wasn't about to let that interfere with his judgment.
Earl stepped forward, his cold demeanor cutting through the air like a knife. The group quickly straightened, their whispers dying as soon as they noticed him.
"Is there an issue?" His voice was flat, his gaze sharp.
The tension in the room thickened. One of the employees, Derek, fidgeted uncomfortably under Earl's piercing stare. "N-No, sir. We were just—"
"Just what?" Earl's eyes narrowed. "Harassing my assistant?"
The silence was deafening. Amber looked down, clearly embarrassed but said nothing. Earl didn't need her to.
"I don't have time for office drama," Earl said coldly, his eyes sweeping over the group. "Amber is here to do her job, just like everyone else. If any of you have a problem with that, you can find employment elsewhere. Understood?"
They nodded quickly, murmuring apologies as they scattered. Amber stood there, still tense, but now alone. Earl glanced at her briefly before turning on his heel, ready to return to his office.
"Thank you, Mr. Silverwood," Amber said quietly, not meeting his eyes.
Earl didn't respond. He wasn't one for niceties or drawn-out exchanges. His job was to run the company, and he expected everyone to do theirs without distractions. But as he walked away, he couldn't help but feel that something about this situation was going to get more complicated.
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Hours later, when Earl returned home, the first thing he noticed was the sound of Leo crying. His brow furrowed in concern as he dropped his briefcase by the door and quickly made his way to the nursery.
Inside, Leo stood in his crib, wailing loudly, his little fists pounding the mattress in frustration. But what caught Earl's attention immediately was Evelyn, sitting beside the crib, her face pale and drawn. Her usual energy was gone, replaced by a weary, almost fragile look.
"Evelyn?" Earl's voice softened, a rare note of concern in it.
She looked up, her eyes heavy with fatigue. "I'm not feeling well," she admitted, her voice weak. "I think I'm catching what you had."
Earl's heart sank, guilt creeping up. She had been taking care of him, and now she was the one sick. Without a word, he moved to her side and gently rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Go lie down," he said quietly. "I'll take care of Leo tonight."
Evelyn hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion in her body won out. She nodded, giving him a weak smile of gratitude before standing, swaying slightly on her feet. Earl watched her go, worry etched on his face.
Turning back to Leo, Earl reached into the crib and lifted the crying boy into his arms. "Hey, little guy," he murmured, bouncing Leo gently. "I know. She's not feeling good, but I'll take care of you tonight."
Leo whimpered, his little hands clutching Earl's shirt, but the sobs soon subsided. The boy's trust was implicit, and it struck Earl in a way he hadn't expected. Holding Leo felt strangely natural now, even though the boy wasn't his. For someone who had kept himself so emotionally guarded, it was unsettling how quickly he had adapted to this.
Earl walked around the nursery, softly humming under his breath, trying to soothe Leo to sleep. The little boy's eyes drooped after a while, his body relaxing in Earl's arms. But instead of putting him down, Earl sat in the rocking chair, keeping Leo close. The boy's small, warm body resting against him brought a sense of peace Earl hadn't felt in a long time.
As Leo's soft breathing filled the room, Earl's mind wandered. He had never imagined himself in this position—taking care of a child, comforting someone so vulnerable. But here he was, and oddly enough, it didn't feel wrong.
Earl glanced down at Leo, who was now sound asleep in his arms. The boy looked so peaceful, his little hand still clutching Earl's shirt. A faint smile tugged at Earl's lips.
Maybe, just maybe, this temporary life with Evelyn and Leo wasn't so bad after all.