The morning sun crept through the thin curtains of Avery's small room, a golden glow warming her skin as she sat at the edge of the bed, rocking her baby in slow, tired motions. Her arms ached, not just from the weight of her child, but from the weight of the world pressing heavily on her shoulders.
It had been over two weeks of knocking on doors, handing out resumes, and smiling through rejection. Each interview ended with the same rehearsed sympathy:
"You're clearly hardworking, Miss Carter, but we can't take the risk. Being a new mother… you understand."
She did understand. She just didn't accept it.
Avery tucked a loose curl behind her ear and looked down at her daughter—her whole world. The baby gurgled softly in her arms, unaware of the harshness of life, the cruelty of rejection, the sting of survival. And Avery made herself a silent promise:
"I'm not going to fail you."
She kissed her daughter's forehead and handed her over to Lexi, who was waiting with a bottle of warmed milk and her mum with a reassuring smile.
"You got this, Ave," Lexi said, her voice steady even though she had watched Avery come home crying every day for the past two weeks.
"Thanks, Lex," Avery replied, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. "Just one more day."
She set off again—heels clicking down cracked sidewalks, resume folder in hand, hope slowly bleeding out of her with every step.
By the time the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement, Avery had already faced three more rejections. One receptionist didn't even let her speak to the manager. Another job offered minimum wage for night shifts—impossible with a newborn. The third interview seemed promising until the words "maternity leave" and "too risky" floated back to haunt her.
She walked along the sidewalk like a ghost. Her stomach twisted—not from hunger, though she hadn't eaten since morning—but from despair. Her phone buzzed. Lexi.
Lexi:You okay?
Avery:No.
She didn't elaborate. She couldn't.
A lump formed in her throat as she passed a florist. The scent of lilies reminded her of her graduation bouquet—when she still believed life had a plan. She wiped away a tear with the back of her hand and kept walking, refusing to let strangers see her cry.
But then, just as she was about to give up—ready to turn around, head home, and try again tomorrow—something caught her eye.
A small white board leaned against the wall of a sleek gray building.
URGENTLY HIRING – OFFICE ASSISTANT NEEDED – APPLY INSIDE
She froze.
Her heart thumped in her chest. It was probably another dead end. She would probably get turned away again. But still…
"Just one more try," she whispered to herself. "One more. Then I'll give up."
She stepped through the glass doors.
The lobby was pristine, with white marble floors and chrome décor that gleamed beneath modern pendant lights. It smelled like lemon polish and fresh paper.
Avery hesitated before walking to the front desk, her shoes suddenly feeling too loud for such a sophisticated space.
The receptionist, a woman in her late twenties with tight curls and sharp glasses, looked up with a neutral expression.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes. Um…" Avery cleared her throat and tightened her grip on the folder. "I saw the sign outside. You're hiring?"
The woman blinked, then gave a slow nod. "We are. The HR office is down that hall. Last door on the left."
"Thank you."
Avery walked stiffly toward the hallway, her legs trembling as her hope dared to flicker again.
The HR manager, a stout woman named Mrs. Reynolds, sat behind a wide oak desk, flipping through a stack of resumes.
Avery sat across from her, trying not to fidget as she explained her situation—again.
"I'm a new mother, yes," Avery said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I'm strong, organized, and determined. I'm willing to work overtime. I can handle pressure. I just… I need the job
Mrs. Reynolds looked over her rimmed glasses. "We've had applicants with more experience. And… you'll need someone to look after your baby during work hours."
"I already have someone," Avery replied quickly. "My mom, I'm staying with my parents. She watches her while I search. And once I'm working, we'll arrange something more permanent."
The woman frowned thoughtfully.
"Please," Avery said, her eyes glistening. "I promise I'll be the best worker you've ever hired. I won't be a burden. I just need a chance."
There was a long silence. The ticking of the clock on the wall felt like thunder in her ears.
Then, finally…
"Alright," Mrs. Reynolds sighed. "Let's give you a trial week. If you prove yourself, we'll make it permanent."
Avery blinked.
"Are… are you serious?"
"Yes. You start tomorrow."
A smile broke across Avery's face—a real one, wide and tear-filled. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
And for the first time in weeks, she walked out of a building feeling lighter.
The next few days passed in a whirlwind. Avery adapted quickly—answering phones, organizing files, preparing conference rooms, and delivering coffee with machine-like precision.
She left home early and came back exhausted, but every evening she would smile when she saw her daughter asleep in her mum's arms. Life, for once, felt like it was falling back into place.
But life always had a twist waiting.
It happened on a Tuesday.
Avery had just finished organizing a shipment of documents when she felt her stomach twist. Too much coffee and no breakfast.
She looked around. "Where's the bathroom again?"
The nearest coworker, Jamie, was nowhere to be found, and Avery didn't want to waste time. She saw a hallway full of closed doors and figured she'd try one until she found the right one.
First door: a storage closet.
Second: a darkened conference room.
Third door…
She turned the knob and stepped inside.
It wasn't the bathroom.
It was an office. A private office.
Avery froze.
The man behind the desk looked up from his laptop. He wore a sharp black suit, his brown hair perfectly styled, his jawline chiseled and familiar.
Too familiar.
He looked directly at her. "This isn't the bathroom."
She couldn't breathe.
"Sorry!" she stammered. "I—I didn't mean to— I was just looking for—"
"It's two doors down," he said flatly, eyes returning to the laptop. "Close the door on your way out."
Avery stood still, her heart racing.
Isn't he the one?
The man she spent one night with.
The father of her daughter.
He didn't recognize her.
She nodded mutely, backed out, and closed the door softly behind her.
Then she stood in the hallway, breath caught in her throat, hands shaking, a thousand memories crashing down.
She had just walked into the office of her boss—the man who gave her a billion dollars for one night. The man she hadn't seen since.
The man who didn't know she had his child.