Struggling Dad Sat With A Woman Until Her Panic Passed, Unaware She Was A CEO Who’d Fall For Him
The Bakery Lie and Growing Intimacy
Two weeks passed. It should have been a blip, a random moment in a city full of noise, but Elodie couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She hadn’t even thanked him properly. So, she went back to the park the next Sunday.
She wore jeans and a hoodie, nothing like her usual designer suits. She sat on the same bench, coffee in hand, nerves bubbling in her stomach for reasons she didn’t understand.
And then she saw him. Kellen had the same jeans, the same tired eyes, and the same gentle smile when he caught her looking.
“Well, look who’s back,” he said, walking over with Tessa on his shoulders. “Hi,” Elodie said, standing.
“I, uh, I wanted to say thank you for that day.” “You already did.”
“I mean, properly.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small white pastry box.
“I own a bakery downtown,” she lied smoothly. “Figured I’d bring a peace offering.”
Kellen blinked. “You own a bakery?”
“Something like that.” Tessa perked up.
“Cookies?” “Triple chocolate,” Elodie said with a wink.
Kellen took the box, eyebrows raised. “Well, now you’re just showing off.”
They sat on the grass this time. Tessa chattered away, her mouth full of cookie, while Elodie listened and laughed, more at ease than she had felt in months.
“You know,” Kellen said after a minute, “I never thought a panic attack would lead to free cookies.” She laughed.
“I never thought a stranger would sit with me through one.” They looked at each other, and something shifted.
Neither of them said it out loud, not yet, but it was there, undeniable. It was a spark, a start, something that didn’t feel like an accident, and neither of them wanted it to end.
“Elodie, are you seriously canceling on the Tokyo board dinner for a park visit?” Her assistant’s voice echoed through the car’s Bluetooth as Elodie rolled her eyes and pulled into the gravel lot.
She parked the matte black SUV behind a cluster of minivans and compact sedans. None of them remotely resembled the kind of company car she usually rode in.
“I told them to push it to Friday. The team’s already there; they’ll manage.” Silence crackled through the speakers.
“Understood,” her assistant finally said, voice clipped. “Anything else?”
“Send flowers to Mrs. Nakamura. White orchids. And tell her I’ll call her personally tonight.” She ended the call without waiting for a response.
She left her phone on the passenger seat face down, took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the dusty path. She wore dark jeans and a charcoal V-neck.
Across the grass, she saw him. Kellen was pushing Tessa on the swing, his hands steady and his eyes focused.
The girl shrieked in delight every time she soared forward. He laughed, really laughed, and Elodie felt something tighten in her chest.
It was not envy; it was a foreign ache she had no name for. She approached slowly, waiting until he noticed her.
“You’re back,” he said, still pushing Tessa, who waved with one hand and shouted her name. “She insisted I bring more cookies,” Elodie replied, holding up the box.
“Said it was unfair to tease her with one batch.” Kellen grinned.
“She’s not wrong. You always come here?” she asked, stepping beside him as he slowed the swing.
“Every Sunday. It’s our ritual. She likes the jungle gym; I like the quiet.”
“That’s not quiet,” Elodie said, nodding toward the screaming kids. “It is compared to a kitchen full of dishes and overdue bills,” he said, eyes still on Tessa.
“Out here, I don’t have to think.” Elodie hesitated, then said, “Can I tag along for your ritual?”
Kellen looked at her for a breath too long before nodding once. “Sure. You brought cookies; can’t say no to that.”
