Isabella knew it the moment Nolan walked back into her life.
One hour would never be enough for a man like him.
She felt it in the way his gaze followed Juan at the park—too focused, too reverent. In the way his shoulders had stiffened when she said time's up, as if he were restraining something feral inside himself.
Want.
Claim.
Fear.
She tried to push the thought away as she tucked Juan into bed that night, smoothing his dark curls back from his forehead.
"Mommy?" Juan murmured sleepily.
"Yes, baby?"
"Is the tall man sad?"
Her hand stilled.
"Why do you ask?"
Juan yawned. "He looked like he wanted to stay."
Isabella's chest tightened painfully. "Sometimes grown-ups want things they can't have."
Juan frowned in concentration. "Like cookies before dinner?"
A soft, broken laugh escaped her. "Yes. Like that."
Juan seemed satisfied. He rolled onto his side, clutching his stuffed whale, and drifted off within minutes.
Isabella stayed longer than usual, sitting beside his bed in the dim light, watching his chest rise and fall.
She had told herself she was doing the right thing.
Protecting him.
But doubt crept in like a slow tide.
Nolan didn't sleep either.
He sat in the rented house overlooking the water, the place he'd secured within hours of finding her town. The view was peaceful—waves rolling endlessly against the shore, moonlight painting silver paths across the ocean.
He hadn't noticed any of it.
All he saw was Juan's face.
The way the boy had laughed without restraint. The way he'd trusted him instinctively, without knowing why.
And Isabella.
God.
She had changed, yes—but the core of her remained painfully familiar. Still strong. Still stubborn. Still willing to carry the weight of the world alone.
Nolan pressed his palms against his eyes, breathing slowly.
An hour.
She thought she could contain him in an hour.
His phone buzzed on the table.
Board Meeting — 9 a.m.
He ignored it.
For the first time in years, Sinclair Enterprises could wait.
The café was busy the next morning.
Isabella moved on autopilot, pouring coffee, ringing orders, smiling when required. But her mind was elsewhere, replaying yesterday over and over.
She was wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed.
Her heart dropped.
Nolan stood there.
Not in a suit. Not as the billionaire CEO.
Just Nolan.
Dark jeans. Simple shirt. No armor.
The café went quiet in that way small towns do when something important walks in.
Isabella straightened slowly. "You said you wouldn't push."
"I'm not," he replied calmly. "I'm ordering coffee."
She narrowed her eyes. "This isn't funny."
"I'm serious."
He stepped up to the counter, glancing at the menu before meeting her gaze again. "Whatever Juan likes. And whatever you recommend."
She hesitated, then turned to prepare the order, hands moving with practiced precision.
"You can't just show up whenever you want," she said quietly.
"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm asking."
She paused. "Asking what?"
"For more time."
Her spine stiffened. "I already gave you time."
"One hour," Nolan said. "That wasn't time. That was mercy."
She turned to face him fully now. "And what exactly do you think you're entitled to?"
"Nothing," he said immediately. "I'm asking. Not taking."
The sincerity in his voice unsettled her.
"I want to know my son," he continued, lowering his voice. "Not as a stranger who appears once and disappears again. That would hurt him more than absence ever could."
Her throat burned.
"You don't get to lecture me about what hurts him," she said sharply.
"I know," Nolan said softly. "That's why I'm listening."
The words struck deep.
She placed the coffee on the counter harder than necessary. "You don't belong here."
"I know," he repeated.
"Your world is nothing like this."
"I don't care."
She laughed bitterly. "You will."
Nolan leaned forward slightly. "I already lost four years with him. I won't lose another day if I can help it."
The door behind him opened.
"Mommy!"
Juan's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Isabella turned just as her son ran inside, cheeks flushed from the breeze outside. He skidded to a stop when he saw Nolan.
"You came back," Juan said, surprised—and pleased.
Nolan's chest tightened. "I did."
Juan looked up at Isabella. "Can he stay?"
Her heart twisted mercilessly.
She crouched beside him. "Sweetheart—"
"I'll leave if you say so," Nolan said quietly. "I promise."
Juan looked between them, confusion clouding his features.
Isabella closed her eyes briefly.
This was happening too fast.
"Ten minutes," she said finally. "Then you go."
Nolan nodded. "Thank you."
They sat at a small table near the window.
Juan talked. About the ocean. About his favorite pastries. About the whale stuffed toy that slept beside him every night.
Nolan listened like a starving man.
When Juan laughed, Nolan smiled.
When Juan frowned, Nolan leaned in.
Isabella watched it all, her resolve unraveling thread by thread.
This wasn't a man playing a role.
This was a father discovering himself too late—and trying desperately to make it right.
Time slipped away.
Too quickly.
When Isabella finally stood, Nolan rose immediately.
"I'll go," he said before she could speak.
Juan's lip trembled. "Already?"
Nolan knelt again, steady and gentle. "I'll see you again soon."
Juan hesitated. Then, impulsively, he threw his arms around Nolan's neck.
The contact stole Nolan's breath.
He froze for half a second—then wrapped his arms around his son with reverent care, eyes closing briefly as if imprinting the moment into his bones.
Isabella's eyes burned.
Nolan pulled back slowly. "I'll come back," he promised softly.
Juan nodded, satisfied.
As Nolan turned to leave, Isabella followed him to the door.
"This doesn't change anything," she said quietly.
He looked at her, eyes dark and intent. "It changes everything."
Her heart stuttered.
Outside, Nolan paused. "I'm not asking to take him from you."
She folded her arms protectively. "Then what do you want?"
He held her gaze without flinching.
"I want to build something he doesn't have to recover from."
The words landed deep.
Nolan stepped away then, leaving behind silence—and something far more dangerous.
Hope.
As Isabella locked the café that night, her phone buzzed with a notification.
Unknown Number:
You can't keep him from his legacy forever.
Her blood ran cold.
Because Nolan wasn't the only one watching anymore.