0006.

(Tilda’s POV).

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself.

How did I get here?

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stood there, frozen, staring at the man in front of me.

Less than 48 hours ago, this very man and I had shared an evening that I thought was a one-off—an impulsive, passion-filled encounter I had planned to leave in the past.

But now, here he was, in the middle of the room, his arms around a young girl who I now knew to be Ivy, the director’s daughter… my patient.

I’d barely registered the little girl’s voice until she asked, her tone full of curiosity, “Why are you staring at each other like that? I hope you’re not flirting.”

A nervous laugh escaped me, and I tried to regain my composure. “Oh, Ivy, don’t be silly. I just want to speak to your father alone for a moment. Something I noticed around the house,” I added, hoping my voice didn’t betray my internal panic.

As Ivy shrugged and trotted off, I glanced back at him, and he was just as stunned as I was. His gaze was fixed on me, wide-eyed and with a look of dawning realization that I was sure mirrored my own. He didn’t know either.

“Come with me,” I whispered, leading him into an empty room down the hall, my heart hammering with each step.

Once inside, he shut the door behind us, his hands still pressed to the door as he let out a breath. “What are you doing in my house?”

The disbelief in his tone was almost a relief—at least I wasn’t the only one feeling blindsided. I crossed my arms, feeling defensive. “I didn’t know you were the director. I had no idea this was your house. Did you… put me up to this? To trap me somehow?”

The corner of his mouth tilted upward in a chuckle, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “Trap you? Believe me, this isn’t exactly how I imagined my day going, either.”

For a moment, the absurdity of it all made me smile. But just as quickly, reality came crashing back.

We were standing in the home of the little girl I was here to care for, a young girl whose fragile health hung in the balance.

And now, I had to figure out a way to remain professional and forget the memory of his touch, his hands on my skin, and the vulnerability we’d shared in that moment that now felt like a lifetime ago.

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms as I took a steadying breath. I needed to keep my cool. “Look, I’m here because Ivy needs specialized care, and that’s my job,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “Let’s just keep things professional, okay?”

He looked at me, a flicker of something—guilt, maybe—crossing his expression. “Agreed. Professional.”

It would have been easier to brush this whole thing off if he hadn’t said it in that warm, deep voice that reminded me exactly of how this whole mess began. But I shook the thought away.

We both stood there, neither of us moving, the silence stretching out between us. There was so much we weren’t saying, yet so much unspoken tension in that small space.

Finally, I decided that if we were going to do this—whatever “this” even was—I had to address the elephant in the room. Or at least acknowledge it so I could move past it.

“I honestly didn’t know you were her father,” I admitted, my voice softer now. “You never mentioned…”

He looked down, shoving his hands into his pockets as if he, too, was lost for words. “Yeah, I didn’t mention a lot of things that night.” He gave a small, strained laugh. “Ivy, my career… You didn’t exactly ask, though, did you?”

His words stung, but I realized he was right. I’d kept things deliberately surface-level that night—names, drinks, no personal baggage. It was supposed to be uncomplicated, a chance to escape and indulge. But seeing him here, in this context, made everything feel messier than I could have imagined.

“I was just trying to get over the fact that my…” I held my words and looked away. “I just had a terrible night. That was it. I needed to distract myself.”

“You still think it was rape?” He chuckled, closing the gap between us as I held up my hands.

“Okay, first off, this is supposed to be professional. There’s nothing professional here if you’re coming this close to me. And secondly, please tell me we won’t be working this close.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to whisper into my ears.

“You work for me,” he huffed. “I’d prefer you wear something a bit more… darker.”

I turned to him in anger. Who did he think he was?!

Just then, Ivy’s voice drifted from the hallway, pulling me back to reality. “Daddy, are you coming back?” she called, a trace of impatience in her tone.

He opened the door a crack, glancing out. “Just a minute, sweetie,” he replied, then turned back to me with a confident look. “We’ll… figure this out, okay?”

I nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

With one last look, he slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. As soon as he left, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My heart was racing, my mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions I didn’t want to deal with. This was going to be harder than I’d anticipated.

***

As the day wore on, I did my best to focus on Ivy, putting her care first and pushing everything else to the back of my mind. Ivy was a bright kid, with an infectious smile and a spark of curiosity that reminded me why I’d chosen this line of work in the first place. Her laughter was refreshing in a world that had been too heavy for her, too unfair for someone so young.