Mr. Freeman?
I jumped, spinning around. Staff, of course.
A woman stood in the entrance to the room.
She was older, perhaps in her sixties, with hair the color of steel pulled back into a bun, but her eyes were crinkled at the corners with kindness.
She wore a simple gray uniform that looked more comfortable than anything I had owned in years.
"I'm Mrs. Gable," she said softly, keeping her distance as if approaching a skittish colt. "Mr. Knox asked me to ensure you were comfortable while he was away. May I get you anything? Another coffee? A blanket?"
"I... I'm okay," I stammered, pulling the oversized silk shirt tighter around myself.
"He suggested the media room might be to your liking," she continued, her voice gentle. "And perhaps something warm to drink?"
Ten minutes later, I was in a room that was bigger than my old apartment, sunk deep in a sofa that felt like it was made of clouds and money.
Mrs. Gable had returned with a plush blanket, soft and white, and tucked it around me maternally, making my throat tighten.
On the side table sat a mug of hot chocolate, topped with a mountain of whipped cream and tiny marshmallows.
Just like the drink Knox got me the first time we met.
"If you need anything else, simply press this," she said, tapping a small intercom panel on the table. "I'll be in the utility area."
She vanished, leaving me alone with the remote.
I turned on the massive screen that dominated the wall. I didn't want news. I didn't want documentaries. I navigated to the trashiest reality show I could find, where tan, oiled people screamed at each other about cheating while wearing dental floss bikinis. It was glorious.
I sipped the hot chocolate, the sugar and heat spreading through my chest, and let the mindless drama wash over me.
For the first time in months, maybe years, my brain wasn't running in constant survival mode.
How much for rent? How much for food? Is the landlord coming?
Is Finn coming? The memory of the shelter was as distant as a forgotten nightmare.
Here, the only problem was whether Brayden was going to choose Kinsley or Tiffany at the recoupling ceremony.
I didn't even have time to think how weird or lucky I was that a man like Knox wanted me.
But I'd leave the question 'why’ to another time.
I sank deeper into the throw, pulling my knees up.
The luxury was a sedative, dragging my eyelids down.
But I fought sleep. I kept glancing at the digital clock on the cable box.
11:00 AM.
12:30 PM: Mrs. Gable asked if I'd like a bowl of fresh tuna poke for lunch, and I'd be insane if I said no.
2:15 PM. I watched the numbers change, counting down. He said four.
Around three, the reality show contestants were crying about a failed challenge involving eggs and spoons. The drama on screen felt distant, muffled by the growing anticipation in my chest. I muted the TV.
The door clicked. It was a soft sound, barely audible, but my heart leaped into my throat. I threw the blanket off, scrambling to my feet just as the heavy oak doors to the living area opened.
Knox stood there. He looked tired, his tie loosened, a briefcase in his hand. He hadn't seen me yet; he was looking down at his phone.
Then he looked up.
His eyes found me instantly. I was standing there in his pajamas, my hair messy, looking like I’d just woken up from a nap. But the tension in his shoulders dropped as if someone had cut a wire. He dropped the briefcase on a desk with a heavy thud. He didn't say a word. He just opened his arms.
I didn't think. I ran. I crossed the room, launching myself at him. He caught me easily, the impact knocking him back half a step, his arms clamping around me. One hand went to my back, pressing me into him; the other cradled the back of my head, his large fingers tangling in my hair.
"You're early," I mumbled into the fabric of his coat, breathing in his scent.
"I couldn't stay away," he murmured, his voice rumbling against my chest. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. "I sat in a board meeting for three hours thinking about nothing but you on my couch."
I melted against him, all my weight supported by his strength. The last knot of fear in my stomach unraveled.
"I missed you," I admitted. “I'm so happy you're here, Daddy!”
"I know, baby," Knox said, tightening his hold until it bordered on painful, just the way I needed it. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."