“Mr. Calloway, I—I’m sorry,” Sarah stammered, carefully lowering Lily. “It’s not what it looks like. She was crying and I just—”
Lily didn’t run.
She pressed herself against Sarah instead, gripping the blue fabric of her skirt with surprising strength—and stared at her father with defiance.
Ethan opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
His throat felt like concrete.
Sarah lowered her gaze, bracing for dismissal.
Then Ethan Calloway—the man who made boardrooms tremble—dropped to his knees on the damp tiles.
It wasn’t elegant.
It was human.
“Don’t apologize,” he said, voice breaking. “Never apologize for this.”
He reached a hand toward Lily, expecting the usual rejection.
Lily looked at Sarah.
Sarah hesitated—then nodded slightly, giving permission.
Lily took one uncertain step and placed her small hand against her father’s wet cheek.
The touch shattered him.
A sob tore out of Ethan’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her, desperate, like a man grabbing a rope before drowning.
Lily didn’t stiffen.
She rested her head on his shoulder.
Ethan looked up at Sarah. The cold corporate distance in his eyes was gone.
“What’s your name?” he asked, ashamed he didn’t know.
“Sarah, sir.”
The name was simple.