Chapter 4
The guest wing's narrow desk barely fit my laptop. I'd been staring at David's LinkedIn message for twenty minutes, my coffee growing cold.
Caroline's presence had turned me into exactly what I'd always been: the help.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, David Porter's LinkedIn message glowing on the screen. UN Human Rights Division. Columbia alumnus. That warm smile in his profile picture—so different from Adam's unstoppable charm.
Fuck it.
I started typing: [Hi David, thank you for reaching out. I'd be interested in hearing about the opportunity. Are you free for coffee this week?]
My finger hesitated over send before a soft knock interrupted. "Maya?" Sophie's voice drifted through the door.
I quickly closed the laptop. "Come in, sweetie."
Sophie bounced in, still in her pajamas, but stopped short when she saw the screen. "Maya, who were you talking to? He's very handsome!"
My heart skipped. "Just an old friend from Columbia, sweetie."
Her eyes narrowed with seven-year-old intuition. "He looks nice. Why do you seem nervous?"
"I'm not nervous." I forced a smile. "Let's go to the kitchen and get your lunch ready."
But Sophie wasn't fooled. She studied my face with the same intensity she brought to her French lessons. "You look different. Like when Daddy talks to Mommy."
Christ. Even a child could read the signs I'd been blind to.
"I'm not nervous." I closed the laptop firmly. "Come on, let's see what Mrs. Patterson made for breakfast."
As Sophie skipped ahead, I quickly flipped the screen back open. My own determined face stared back for a second before I hit send.
Time to stop being a ghost in someone else's life.
Saturday afternoon, Café Sabarsky felt like stepping into someone else's life. Classical music, the smell of actual coffee—not the caffeine IV drip I'd been mainlining all week.
"Miss Rodriguez, right?"
David materialized beside my table, and fuck, he looked good. Tall, genuinely warm smile, eyes that actually focused when he looked at me. Not that desire sweep I'd grown used to.
"David! You still asking the smart questions in seminars?"
He laughed, settling across from me. "Always. So what are you passionate about these days? Besides work."
The question punched me in the gut. Nobody had asked me that in... Christ, maybe ever.
"I used to write." The words tasted foreign. "But you know how it is."
"Dreams don't expire, Maya."
For the next two hours, we actually talked. García Márquez, travel, life. David remembered my thesis, asked follow-up questions, didn't once check his phone or glance at other women.
So this is what it feels like when someone gives a shit about your thoughts.
"Walk with me?" He gestured toward the park.
Central Park at golden hour was pure romance novel bullshit—couples holding hands, leaves falling perfectly, string lights flickering on. David took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"When's the last time you did something just for you?" he asked as we passed Bethesda Fountain.
"What do you mean?"
"Not for work, not for someone else. Just because Maya wanted to."
My throat tightened. "Long time."
"We're fixing that. Next week—Met Museum, new Latin American lit exhibition."
By the time I reached the penthouse entrance, my cheeks ached from genuine smiling.
Then I saw Adam through the lobby windows.
Reality hit like ice water.
Adam stood in the living room with Caroline, papers spread across the coffee table. They looked up when I entered, and Adam's eyes sharpened as he took in my appearance.
"You were out," he said. Not a question.
"I went to a museum." The lie came easily. "Needed some fresh air."
Caroline glanced up from her papers with polite interest. "Maya, we were just discussing Sophie's educational future. I think she needs a more... structured environment."
My stomach dropped. "Sophie's making excellent progress—"
"Maya," Adam interrupted, his voice carrying that edge I'd learned to fear. "We need to talk about your schedule. I expect you to be more focused on Sophie going forward."
"I've always been focused on Sophie."
But Adam's attention had shifted to something else. His gaze lingered on my face, taking in the flush in my cheeks, the brightness in my eyes.
"You look different," he said slowly.
Because someone actually listened to me today. Someone saw me as more than convenient.
"I'm fine," I said. "Just tired."
Over the next week, everything changed.
I bought new clothes—nothing dramatic, just pieces that made me feel like myself instead of invisible. Started wearing makeup again. Mrs. Patterson noticed immediately.
"Miss Rodriguez, you look very... radiant lately."
"Thank you, Mrs. Patterson. I feel good."
Sophie was more direct. "Maya, why are you suddenly so pretty? Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Sophie!" I laughed, but heat rose in my cheeks. "I'm just trying to take better care of myself."
But Adam noticed too. His eyes followed me with increasing intensity, and his casual touches became more possessive. Late at night, he'd appear at my guest room door.
"Maya, I hope you remember your responsibilities to this household."
"I remember everything perfectly."
Friday night, Bryant Park's winter village was all twinkling lights and skaters gliding in pairs. David and I wobbled around the ice rink, laughing at our pathetic skating skills.
But even as I smiled, part of me kept drifting. Wondering what Adam was doing. Whether he'd noticed I wasn't home for dinner.
"Maya," David said as we caught our breath at the rink's edge. "These weeks with you... you make me remember why I love this city."
I forced myself to focus on his face. Kind eyes, genuine smile. Everything a woman should want.
"You make me remember things too."
"Like what?"
"Like that I deserve to be properly treated." The words came out automatically, rehearsed.
His expression grew serious. "Maya, you don't just deserve to be properly treated. You deserve to be adored."
The statement should have made my heart race. Instead, I found myself thinking about Adam's hands, the way he said my name in the dark.
"Thank you," I managed. "That means a lot."
But as David squeezed my hand, all I could think about was Adam.
When I returned home that night, Adam was waiting in the living room. Caroline had already gone to bed.
"I want to know who you've been spending time with," he said without preamble.
"That's not your business, Adam."
"Everything about this household is my business. Including you."
The possessiveness in his voice made my skin crawl. "I don't belong to you, Adam. I never belonged to you."
"We have an agreement. I expect you to honor that."
"What agreement? I'm Sophie's tutor, remember?"
His jaw tightened. "You know exactly what I mean."
But I was done playing his games. "The only thing I know is that you have a wife sleeping in your bed, and you still think you can control me."
His face went cold. "You'll regret this, Maya."
"The only thing I regret is wasting eighteen months on someone who sees me as a convenience."
I walked away before he could respond, my hands shaking with adrenaline. But even as I retreated to the guest room, part of me hoped he'd follow.
He didn't.
Sunday afternoon, David brought me back to Bethesda Fountain. The same spot where we'd first walked, but something felt different. Heavier.
"Maya," he began, his voice unusually serious. "These weeks with you have shown me what happiness looks like."
My stomach dropped. I recognized this tone. "David..."
He reached into his jacket, and my world tilted. A small velvet box.
"I know this is fast, but when you know, you know." His hands trembled slightly. "Maya, will you marry me?"
The question hung in the air while my mind went completely blank as I stared at the ring.
Beautiful. Safe. Everything Adam would never offer.
"Are you sure?" I whispered. "Are you sure you want me?"
"I've never been more certain."
I should have felt joy. Should have felt relief. Instead, all I could think about was Adam's face last night. The way his jaw had tightened when I'd mentioned Caroline.
"This is the right choice," I told myself. "This is my ticket to a new life. A real life where someone actually chooses me first."
"Yes," I heard myself say. "Yes, I'll marry you."
The ring slid on perfectly. David kissed me gently, and I smiled through tears that felt more complicated than they should have.
Walking back to the penthouse, each step made the ring feel heavier.
Through the lobby windows, I could see Adam and Caroline bent over papers, arguing about something.
I stared down at the diamond, thinking about every stolen moment with Adam. Every night I'd convinced myself we were building toward something.
Now I had to walk inside and tell him I was engaged to another man.