007

Ashton’s POV

I left the office earlier than usual.

I couldn’t concentrate…not with her face burned into my brain. Lily. That name tasted like regret on my tongue now. Everything I touched in the boardroom today just felt... off. My assistant James had tried to run me through the usual updates: projections, expansion numbers, a new merger on the table.

But I didn’t hear any of it.

I had already told him, “Keep digging.” And he did. James wasn’t the type to ask questions. He showed up at my office around noon with a file in his hand and this look on his face like he knew the contents were about to wreck me.

“She opened a fashion brand,” James said, setting the file down like it was a bomb. “Clothing and accessories. Online store first, then pop-ups. It picked up fast. Three years ago, she registered her company officially under Lily & Rae.”

I didn’t say anything. I just sat there, staring at the papers. Photos of events, her logo on billboards, her standing beside some influencer I didn’t recognize. She was smiling in all of them. Actually smiling. Not the tight, forced smile I remembered from when she worked for me. This one looked...real.

“She just opened a new flagship store two weeks ago,” James added, tapping a page in the file. “Downtown. High-end district. I checked her hiring list…she brought on a full staff. Retail reps, designers, interns, you name it. Word is, she treats them like gold. Pays them well, too.”

I nodded slowly, jaw tight.

Then James hesitated, his voice dropping just slightly. “There’s a child listed under her emergency contacts for school registration. Nathan Evans.”

That name hit me in the chest.

Nathan.

He didn’t need to say more. I closed the folder. I couldn’t breathe.

I grabbed my coat and walked out of that office like a man possessed.

… 

Now here I was. Sitting in the black SUV parked a few houses down from the one she had walked into yesterday. Her new house. Big, modern, expensive. Definitely gated. The kind of place only someone with serious drive, or serious drive…could own.

And I was just sitting here. Watching.

My window was cracked an inch. Cold air touched my face, but I didn’t feel it. I was too focused. She didn’t know I was here. I couldn’t let her see me…not yet. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even know what the hell I was supposed to say to her if I did get out of this car.

The front yard had been cleared out this morning. Now, a few landscapers were unloading trees from a truck and placing them by the garden beds. I watched one of them ask her something. She smiled and nodded, pointing to the side fence.

That smile.

God.

She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved black top, something simple. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail, gold hoops in her ears, sunglasses resting on top of her head. But she looked...breathtaking.

Not just because she was beautiful…and she was…but because of how she carried herself. There was something stronger in her now. Like the girl I had known four years ago had grown up and built armor over every place I had wounded.

And I had wounded her. I knew it. I remembered every cruel word I threw at her that day like it was a damn script I couldn’t unlearn.

“You thought you were up to my standards?”

“I made a mistake touching you.”

“You’re no longer needed.”

I wanted to punch my past self in the face.

My fingers tapped against the steering wheel. My jaw clenched. I couldn’t look away from her.

She was walking back toward the porch now, clipboard in hand, talking to someone on the phone. Her brows were furrowed, lips moving fast. She was probably juggling five tasks at once, and she still looked like she had it all under control.

And then the front door opened.

A little boy came running out, waving something in his hand. Paper. A drawing. His tiny legs moved fast as he sprinted toward her, his curls bouncing. He couldn’t have been older than four.

Nathan.

My chest ached when I saw him up close. That was my face. No question. Same hair. Same eyes. Same stubborn little mouth. There wasn’t even room for doubt anymore.

He reached her, tugging on her sleeve.

She looked down and her entire expression changed. The stress disappeared from her face. She crouched down to his level, and suddenly she wasn’t a boss or a CEO or a woman running a million-dollar business.

She was just a mom.

He was showing her the picture, pointing out details I couldn’t hear from this distance, but she laughed, ruffled his curls, and kissed his cheek.

My throat tightened.

I’d missed all of this. Four birthdays. First steps. First words. The first time he called her “Mommy.”

Because of me.

Because I threw her out of my life like she didn’t matter. Because I was too arrogant, too blind, too scared to admit that she’d meant more to me than I was willing to face. And now I was the outsider. Watching my own son from the street.

She picked Nathan up and carried him back inside, resting him on her hip like she’d done it a thousand times. He wrapped his arms around her neck, face tucked into her shoulder, and she turned, walked through the door, and disappeared inside.

I leaned back against the headrest, shutting my eyes for a second.

I had never felt this kind of regret. Not even when I lost my mother. Not even when I tanked my first business deal.

This was worse.

She hadn’t just moved on. She’d built something. A life. A future. She didn’t need me. She hadn’t needed me for a long time.

And I had no idea if she’d even let me in now.

But I had to try.

… 

I stayed in the car for another thirty minutes. Watched the landscapers finish up. Watched the sun start to dip in the sky. I wasn’t going to confront her today. That wasn’t the plan.

Not yet.

I needed more time. I needed to think. To figure out how to approach her without making everything worse.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, typed a quick message to James.

Ashton: “I need enrollment records for Nathan Evans. Anything you can find. Daycare, school, whatever.”

James: “On it. Want me to contact someone directly?”

Ashton: “No. Be discreet.”

I shoved the phone back into my jacket. Took one more look at the house.

Through the window, I could see them. Nathan sitting at a little table by the kitchen, coloring. Lily standing by the stove, flipping something in a pan. She laughed at something he said and shook her head.

It was so normal. So real.

It should’ve been mine.

I wasn’t just watching a house. I was watching everything I’d thrown away.

And now?

Now I wanted it back.

But the worst part?

I wasn’t sure if I even deserved it.