DANIEL'S POV
"I've already told you that I'll be back home late today, Claudia," I sighed into the phone, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
"You're not the only one with a career, Daniel. And you promised to come early today to be with Maya while I catch up with my work."
Claudia was a fashion show producer, quite famous around the city, and rightfully so. She'd started as an assistant but slowly climbed up the ladder and was now in charge of some of the biggest shows in the fashion scene.
She was also a good partner, one who hardly ever complained and always treated me with respect. Therefore, when she finally did ask for something, I knew it was justified.
Checking the time on my Rolex, I poked the inside of my cheek. "Fine.
I'll see what I can do." It was only fair to make an effort, considering the number of sacrifices she had made since Maya was born.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
I nodded despite her not being there. "Yes. Besides, I would love to spend an evening at home with my little girl for a change."
It was half true because while I did want to see my daughter, I also sought to bury myself in work—as I'd been doing for the past three weeks in a desperate attempt to keep my mind off… distractions.
"Thank you, honey. I really appreciate it," she said, her voice turning softer.
I shook my head while tapping the desk. "You don't need to thank me, Claudia. I'm her dad, too."
"I know, I know… I just don't like to complain. I know how much your work means to you."
"Not more than yours means to you."
"Speaking of work, remember to take a break at the end of June?"
"Dear Lord, Claudia, it's not even March yet—"
"You know how much we love spending the summer in the Hamptons.
God forbid you'll bring your work there again," she scolded me, and I chuckled.
She often made me seem like a little child.
"Fine. I will make sure to take a break. Happy?"
"Very much." She giggled. "Anyway, I'll leave you be. I love you, honey. See you tonight."
"I love you, too," I said right before she hung up.
I did love her, just not in the way she deserved. Phone calls like the one we'd just had served as reminders of the fraud she was unknowingly part of. We'd been together for ten years, eight of which we'd spent married.
And while our marriage was pleasant, it wasn't real, at least not from my perspective. She, of course, had no idea, as I worked incredibly hard to ensure she wouldn't find out about my sexuality. Every part of me knew it was unfair, and yet, choosing to be a coward day after day, I continued lying, aware of the great injustice I caused her.
I was always a faithful partner, and I intended to remain so. Claudia truly was a good person, one of the kindest women I knew, and she didn't deserve to have her heart broken. My loyalty stemmed from our friendship and the partnership she believed we had. Which we did, in a way. At the end of the day, she and I shared a life together. It might not have been the life I wanted, but it was a good life—perhaps as good as it could ever get.
I'd long given up on the dream of being myself, and denying my desires was a skill I'd gotten used to. That was why I'd been burying myself in work, to make my latest desire turn into a fogged memory. Only, it wasn't that easy.
Turning around, I glanced at my office window. It hadn't rained for over a week, and the sky was bright blue—the same as his eyes. My heart clenched with the thought, and I quickly turned to my desk and picked up a bunch of contracts I had to go over. At this point, I wasn't even sure why Elliot hadn't left my mind, considering all that we shared was a dinner and a ride to Brooklyn. Forcing the thoughts out of my mind, I focused back on the files and continued to read them until someone knocked on my door.
"Come in," I called before Sherry stepped inside.
Seeing her face reminded me of something, so I stood up. "Could you please fax these to my father's office?" I asked, handing her a bunch of files, then turned back to my desk.
"Of course, sir."
"I'll take my leave now. I promised Claudia I would be home early tonight, so why don't you go, too? You deserve some rest," I said, stacking the rest of the papers on my desk into a neat pile.
"Sir, there's someone here to see you."
"I thought I was done with my meetings for the day," I answered her while reaching for my suit jacket that hung on the back of my chair.
"I don't think he scheduled a meeting, sir."
"So? Tell him to schedule one, then send him home," I declared,
annoyed with people's audacity to just show up here.
"The problem is that… I don't understand him, sir."
I stopped what I was doing only to glare at her. "What is that supposed to mean, Sherry?"
"He's French, sir, and I don't think he knows English. But he did say your name—"
Every word that came after French was lost, and my heart suddenly stopped. Feeling as if I was just kicked in the chest, I took a deep breath, my brows pulling closer.
"French, you said?"
She nodded.
What was Elliot doing here?
"Should I send him home?"
"No." The word came out of my mouth so fast it caught Sherry by surprise, given the confusion on her face.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Please let him in," I told her.
She didn't bother with more questions before she left my office, closing the door behind her.
Quickly, I ran my fingers through my hair to make sure it looked decent, then smoothed a hand over my dress shirt to fix the wrinkles. I'd just leaned my hip against my desk when the door to my office reopened, and Sherry walked Elliot in. The way she looked at him with hearts in her eyes didn't
escape me, and a bitter taste filled my mouth.
"Merci," Elliot told Sherry, who just giggled in response.
The second I saw her flipping her hair forward, I decided I'd had enough.
"You can go home now, Sherry."
Her face fell. "What about the fax?"
"I'll just do it myself."
"Sir—"
"Good night."
Knowing better than to argue, Sherry nodded, then gave Elliot one last flirty smile before finally leaving. And while annoyed, I couldn't blame her.
Wearing a denim jacket and a pair of blue jeans that complemented his long legs, Elliot looked like a movie star.
The second the door closed behind Sherry, I pushed back from my desk.
"Elliot, what are you doing here?" I asked in French.
He strolled further into the office, stopping right in front of me.
"You forgot these at the restaurant," he said before giving me a small paper bag.
I took it from him and looked inside to find my gloves.
"Oh, I didn't even notice they were missing." I took them out, then put them back inside the bag. "You came all the way here just to give me this?"
I frowned.
He seemed a bit hesitant before nodding, and I worried I might have sounded too harsh.
"Thank you. I truly appreciate it. But I'm sorry you've troubled yourself all the way here." I placed the bag on my desk when a thought occurred to me. "How did you know where I worked?"
"Marrie helped me. She found your name in the telephone directory.
Your company address was there, too." As he spoke, he constantly rubbed his wrist.
Ignoring my urge to reach forward and stop him, I asked, "Marrie?"
"She's the owner of the restaurant."
That's right. He said her name that time I went there.
"I see," I sighed, half hating myself for being so cold. But what was my other option? To pull him into a tight hug?
"I-I'm sorry for suddenly coming here. It's just that you said you'd visit the restaurant again, and it has been three weeks." He paused and took in a short breath before forcing his stare up. "I guess I just wanted to see you."
My heart fluttered at his confession, then broke due to the sadness in his eyes. If only I could have collected him into my arms right then.
"I'm sorry, I've been incredibly busy with work." In order to forget you.
With his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, he looked around my office.
"Yes, of course. Again, I don't know why I came… I guess it was nice to meet a new friend."
A friend? So that's what he sees in me?
"A friend?" I asked, holding his stare.
He stayed quiet for a minute, almost like he wasn't sure what to say, before nodding. "Yes. You see, other than Marrie, I don't know anyone here, and not knowing English makes it even harder to make friends." He wrapped his arms around himself. "Then you showed up, and finally, there was someone I could speak to that made me feel less lonely."
So focused on my attraction to him, I didn't stop to think about his motivation to see me. Elliot was lonely and needed a friend. It made so much sense now, didn't it? Why else would he seek comfort in someone fourteen years his senior?
"It's not easy. Not being understood, that is," I said and watched the comfort spreading on his face. Finally, he didn't look as nervous.
"Are you at least trying to learn English?" I asked.
His cheeks turned red before he gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm really bad with languages, and working almost every day, I don't have the time to find a tutor—"
"I can help."
I realized what I'd just offered a little too late, as Elliot had already gotten excited.
"Really?" He smiled, pressing his palms together.
Since it was too late to back down, I nodded. "Yes, of course."
For the past three weeks, I'd desperately tried to stay away from him because I feared something could bloom between us. Understanding Elliot didn't see me that way might have hurt, but it also made everything a hell of a lot easier. Because now, seeing him wouldn't be the result of my greed
and lust but to help him. I also knew that the moment he learned English, his life would be much easier, and he deserved that. And so much more.
"Oh, thank you, Daniel!" He beamed and, in a moment of pure excitement, reached forward and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug.
He smelled so good and felt even better, enough to get my pulse rising and my skin hotter.
Not wanting him to notice my reaction, I politely pushed him back.
"You don't need to thank me," I said while patting his shoulder like some old geezer.
Wonderful, Daniel, just wonderful.
Elliot didn't seem to care as he continued to smile at me.
"As payment, how about I cook for you?"
I laughed. "Please don't. I'd gain so much weight if you do."
"So when do we start? Tonight?" he asked, his eyes nearly shining with his excitement.
I checked my watch to see it was late. "Unfortunately, no, as my daughter is waiting for me, but how about you give me your number, and we'll schedule something?"
Elliot suddenly fell silent, his brows dipping, and I wondered if I'd said something incorrectly when he spoke.
"Your… daughter?"
"Yes. I have a four-year-old daughter."
His stare then moved to my left hand, a crease forming between his brows. "So… you're married?" He looked up to meet my eyes.
For an unknown reason, I felt like I'd been caught in a lie.
"I am."
"That makes sense…" he muttered under his breath.
"I'm sorry for not mentioning it earlier. It didn't seem important." I sounded like a thief trying to defend his innocence while still carrying the stolen goods. I didn't say a word about my family as the flirtatious nature of our earlier encounters felt nice. More than nice. It was an escape, and
bringing up my family was an admission to that. An admission that what I was doing was hurting them.
Putting all those thoughts aside, I focused on Elliot, who almost seemed worried. Biting on his bottom lip, he scratched his wrist and moved uncomfortably.
"Is everything okay?" I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he shifted back.
"Y-yes. It's just… I don't want to waste your time."
"You don't waste my time at all, Elliot."
"But your daughter, you need to be with her. Not teach some stupid stranger English."
He moved to turn around when I grabbed his arm and pulled him closer.
To be honest, my hand moved on instinct. A primal fear of him getting away.
"You're not stupid, Elliot." I locked eyes with him. "So don't say that about yourself."
I wished to hug him so forcefully that the need throbbed through me, almost like a scream that was ready to be shouted into the world. The strong pull I had toward him made no sense; neither was the wish to help and protect a man I barely knew. But when he looked at me the way he just did, as if I were some kind of hero, I simply couldn't tear my eyes away.
"Will Thursday work for you?" I asked.
His forehead creased, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "What?"
"I can make it so we'll meet every Thursday for an English class."
His eyes gleamed as his whole face lit up.
He truly is too damn beautiful.
"Thursdays would be perfect."
Since I couldn't drive Elliot today, I paid for a cab to take him back to Brooklyn. I asked for his number so he could text me to say he got home safely, only to find out he didn't have a cell phone or a landline in the place he rented. The only number he gave me was the one of the restaurant, which
would be enough for now.
"Daddy." Maya's sweet voice brought me back to the moment, and I looked at my daughter tucked in her bed.
"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked after sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Instead of answering me with her words, Maya showed me a book. The Little Prince.
It was the story of a little prince who traveled to Earth from a distant planet because he felt lonely and wanted to make friends. This tale was Maya's favorite, and apparently, it had become mine as well.
With her cuddled at my side, I began reading from page one, slowly going over the words and watercolored illustrations she admired. She was deep asleep around the middle of the book, but I didn't stop reading. As I finished the story, I couldn't help but think about Elliot and how lonely he must have felt when he came to New York City, the loneliest place in the world, to find a friend.