When Maya stepped into the hallway, he spoke. “I owe you an apology… for how I spoke to you. It was wrong.”
Maya studied him for a long moment. “Lily doesn’t care about titles or money. She just needs warmth.”
His gaze dropped. “She won’t sleep unless she feels safe.”
“She’s not the only one,” Maya replied quietly.
The Smallest Gesture
The following afternoon, Nathaniel appeared at the nursery door — no suit, no stern posture — holding a soft knitted blanket.
“This was mine,” he said awkwardly. “Thought Lily might like it.”
Maya took the blanket, tucking it gently around the sleeping baby. Nathaniel stepped closer. Lily stirred, blinked at him… but didn’t cry.
Maya guided his hand to rest on his daughter’s back. For a long moment, the three stood together in the quiet room — connected not by obligation, but by something far more human.
