A Poor Dad Welcomed A Woman Who Just Moved In Upstairs, Never Knowing She Was A CEO Falling For Him
Simplicity and the Choice to Stay
Paloma’s eyes softened. “That’s rare. What is kindness without an angle?”
Yardan just shrugged. “I’m not complicated.”
She offered a small smile. “Well, I’ll try not to stomp around too much.”
“Good luck. These floors make sounds I didn’t know wood could make.”
That night, after Felix fell asleep, Yardan sat on the edge of his worn couch staring up at the ceiling. He wondered why he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman upstairs.
She wasn’t just beautiful; there was something else, something he couldn’t name.
What he didn’t know was that Paloma Merritt hadn’t moved into this building by accident.
She’d walked away from a corner office on the top floor of a glass tower downtown. She was the youngest CEO in her company’s history.
She’d left behind a life filled with handshakes, boardrooms, and people who smiled at her only when they wanted something.
No one here knew her name. No one cared about her net worth.
And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to stay.
The next morning, Yardan found a small white bag hanging from his door knob.
Inside were three croissants, a bottle of fresh orange juice, and a note written in neat handwriting.
“Thanks for the save. No coffee table injuries today. Paloma.”
He smiled. Felix peeked over his shoulder. “She’s fancy.”
Yardan nodded. “Yeah, she really is.”
Over the next few days, Paloma kept showing up.
Sometimes she came with leftovers, sometimes with questions about the building, or sometimes just to sit on the stoop with Felix and talk about dinosaurs.
Yardan tried not to think too hard about how fast she was becoming part of their life.
One evening, after a spaghetti dinner that turned into an accidental food fight, Felix was in bed early.
Yardan found Paloma sitting on the stairs outside with two beers in hand.
“I figured you could use a break,” she said, patting the step next to her.
He sat down, taking the bottle. “Not exactly champagne.”
“Sometimes simple is better,” she said softly.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the street lights flicker on.
“Why’d you move here?” he asked finally.
Paloma hesitated. “I needed a reset. Too many people, too much noise, bad breakup. Worse, bad life.”
Yardan looked over. “You seem like someone who has it all together.”
“I used to.”
He nodded slowly. “Well, welcome to the land of broken door handles and cereal for dinner. We’re happy to have you.”
Paloma turned her gaze, meeting his. “I think I needed to meet someone like you.”
Yardan’s heart jumped. He tried to keep his voice calm. “Someone like me?”
“Someone real.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, but he didn’t have to. Right then, she leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft and careful, like she didn’t expect anything back, but he kissed her anyway.
And it felt like the most honest thing he’d done in years.
The next morning, Paloma stood in front of her bathroom mirror applying mascara with careful precision. This had once been her armor in boardrooms.
Today, it wasn’t about strategy or presentation. It was about seeing Yardan again.
That realization made her pause. She put the mascara down and stared at her reflection.
Her hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the ends.
There was no blazer and no heels, just a cotton top and jeans.
She looked like herself, or at least the version she used to be before the job ate everything soft about her.
Downstairs, she heard the familiar clatter of something hitting tile, followed by Felix’s laughter. She smiled.
When she knocked on Yardan’s door, it swung open before she could drop her hand.
He looked tired, with one sleeve of his t-shirt soaked with what looked like milk.
“Morning,” she said, holding up a paper bag. “I brought muffins and napkins.”
“You’re a saint,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.
The apartment smelled faintly of burnt toast and cinnamon.
Felix was on the floor building something elaborate with plastic blocks, his face smeared with jelly.
“Paloma!” He jumped up and ran over. “I made a spaceship that turns into a dragon!”
“Of course you did,” she said, crouching next to him. “Does it breathe fire or shoot lasers?”
“Both!”
Yardan opened the bag and took out a blueberry muffin.
“You’re never this bright-eyed this early. What’s your secret?”
“Not having to answer 40 emails before 8 a.m.,” she said, sitting on the arm of the couch.
He looked at her, then really looked. “You don’t talk about your old job much.”
“There’s not a lot worth saying,” she replied, unwrapping a muffin. “I gave it everything.”
“It took everything. I left before there was nothing left of me.”
“You don’t miss it?” he asked, leaning against the counter.
“I miss having a driver,” she said dryly. “And not having to think twice before buying groceries. But no, I don’t miss what it turned me into.”
Felix launched into an explanation of the spaceship’s self-destruct system, giving them both a moment to breathe.
When he was done, Paloma turned to Yardan. “What about you? What did you do before the world got complicated?”
“Construction,” he said. “Mostly residential. I worked for a company that went under after the housing crash.”
“I took a few gigs here and there, but after Felix’s mom left, I needed something steadier.”
“Now I do maintenance for three buildings in the neighborhood.”
“That’s a lot to juggle.”
“Yeah, but it keeps the lights on.”
Paloma fell quiet, her fingers picking at the edge of the muffin wrapper.
Yardan glanced over. “You okay?”
“I’m just realizing how little I know about normal life,” she said.
“Your life is 10 times harder than mine ever was, but you still have space for kindness.”
“That’s rare. Kindness isn’t a luxury,” he said. “It’s a choice.”
She looked at him then, and something in her chest squeezed tight.
Later that afternoon, while Felix was at a friend’s birthday party, Yardan offered Paloma his arm.
“Want to see the real gem of the neighborhood?”
She raised a brow. “Is it another vending machine that only takes quarters from the 70s?”
“Better,” he grinned. “There’s a park three blocks over. No tourists, just cracked benches and a tree that’s been struck by lightning twice.”
She followed him through the winding back streets, past corner stores and rows of houses with laundry fluttering from windows.
The park was small, tucked between two brick buildings with graffiti on their sides, but it was quiet and peaceful.
There was a tire swing hanging from a thick branch and a patch of grass that looked like it had seen every game of tag in the world.
They sat on the bench closest to the tree. Paloma leaned back and closed her eyes.
“This is perfect.”
“You’re hard to impress,” he teased.
“I spent the last 6 years at rooftop bars and restaurants where menus didn’t include prices,” she said. “This feels like air.”
He looked at her sideways. “You’re not what I expected.”
She opened one eye. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. You look like someone who wouldn’t make eye contact with a guy like me.”
“But then you bring muffins and talk to my kid like he’s not just background noise.”
“That’s a low bar,” she said. “More people trip over it than you’d think.”
Paloma turned to him. “You’re a good father.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “I try.”
“That’s more than most do,” she said quietly.
They sat there as the breeze tugged at her hair and the sound of a basketball bounced faintly in the distance.
Finally, she asked, “Do you ever think about starting over?”
Yardan didn’t answer right away. “I used to,” he said.
“But then I realized I can’t go back and fix anything. I just try not to mess up the next thing. That’s the best I can do.”
She nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”
When they returned, Felix was already home, sitting on the couch with a paper crown on his head and icing on his nose.
Paloma laughed. “Did you take the throne while we were gone?”
“I’m King Felix now!” he declared. “I command more cake!”
Yardan ruffled his hair. “Only if you brush your teeth twice tonight.”
Paloma leaned against the door frame watching them. She hadn’t planned on staying long when she moved in.
A few weeks maybe, or a month; just enough time to remember who she was before she chased titles and traded sleep for spreadsheets.
But now, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to leave at all.
That night, as she stood in front of her bedroom window, she watched the glow of the city in the distance.
She realized something terrifying. She wasn’t just falling for a life she didn’t understand.
She was falling for someone who didn’t know who she really was.
Paloma stood in the tiny kitchen of her apartment staring at the open cabinet.
There was a half-used bag of rice, a can of black beans, and a jar of peanut butter with the label half-peeled.
She exhaled through her nose, grabbed the rice, and started boiling water.
She hadn’t intended to stay long enough to need groceries, but staying was no longer a question.
The knock at her door startled her. When she opened it, Yardan stood there with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie.
He had a folded piece of paper in one fist. “I need a favor,” he said.
She stepped aside wordlessly, and he walked in, holding out the paper.
“It’s from Felix’s school. They’re doing this father-son project thing.”
“Some kind of science fair, but they want volunteers to help prep the space. I said yes, but they’re short on hands.”
She took the paper and scanned it. “You want me to help?”
“You don’t have to,” he said quickly.
“I just figured you’re organized, and you’ve got that efficient energy.”
She laughed softly. “Efficient energy? You know you make lists in your head before you walk into a room.”
“All right,” she said, putting the paper on the counter. “When?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll pick up Felix after school and meet you there.”
She nodded. “I’ll be there.”
The next day, the elementary school gym buzzed with the chaos of half-finished posters and cardboard dioramas.
There was the unmistakable smell of glue sticks and juice boxes.
Yardan arrived with Felix, who ran off to join a group of kids gathered around a table covered in sparkly pipe cleaners.
Paloma rolled up her sleeves and got to work taping down cords, setting up tables, and helping a flustered PTA mother find extra scissors.
“You weren’t kidding,” Yardan said, coming up beside her with a roll of masking tape. “You’re frighteningly efficient.”
She handed him a stack of name tags. “I’ll take frightening over useless any day.”
One of the teachers passed by distractedly, calling out something about the projector not working.
Yardan looked at Paloma. “You any good with tech?”
She arched a brow. “I once rebooted an entire system with a paperclip and a broken stylus.”
He blinked. “That sounds fake.”
“It wasn’t. I was on a conference call in Dubai at the time.”
He stared at her. “You’ve been to Dubai?”
She hesitated, realizing too late that she’d said too much.
“I traveled a lot for work,” she said quickly. “Past life.”
He nodded slowly but didn’t press.
After the setup, Felix showed off his solar system model with glowing pride.
Paloma wandered to a quiet corner of the gym, watching as Yardan knelt beside his son.
He asked questions and listened like every word mattered.
A few minutes later, he joined her near the bleachers. “You okay?”
She nodded. “It’s just strange. I used to sit in rooms with people who couldn’t go 30 seconds without checking their phones.”
“And now I’m here watching a kid explain how Pluto is not a planet anymore like it’s breaking news.”
Yardan leaned against the wall beside her. “You look more at home here than you think.”
She looked up at him. “Do I?”
“Yeah. You’re not trying so hard. You’re just being.”
