WHEN HE FINALLY KNEW.

The bus ride to Elvis's school was quieter than usual. Or maybe it was just me. I had my earbuds in, but the music was low, more background than anything else. The world outside the window blurred into streaks of motion and light. A part of me was still standing in that boardroom, with Dylan Harper's gaze locked on mine.

You remind me of someone.

I shook the thought off before it could linger too long.

By the time I made it to Elvis's school, the afternoon sun had shifted. It cast long shadows across the pavement, and the final stragglers of parents were either rushing in or rushing out. I tightened my scarf as I stepped through the gates.

"Elena," one of the staff greeted me with a nod. "He's just inside, finishing up some drawings."

"Thanks," I said, walking through the hallway.

There he was. Sitting at the little round table by the window, his crayon gripped tightly as he worked on something full of blue and orange scribbles. He looked up as soon as I came in.

"Mama!" Elvis grinned, eyes lighting up like they always did when he saw me.

"Hey, baby," I smiled, crouching down beside him. "Ready to go?"

"Uh-huh. Look what I made!" He held up the paper like it was a prize.

It was a fire-breathing dragon surrounded by stars. A little chaotic, but full of heart.

"That's amazing. You'll have to tell me all about it on the way home."

He slid his backpack on without needing to be asked. As we stepped outside, he slipped his small hand into mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Did you have a good day?" I asked.

"Yes! We had pizza for lunch, and I helped Lila clean up after art. And Miss Georgia said I was the fastest at math."

"Fastest at math? That's my boy."

He beamed up at me, pride glowing in his eyes.

We took the usual route home, passing by the corner store where the man in the window always waved at Elvis. We didn't stop today. I just wanted to get home, peel off my heels, and breathe.

At home, I kicked off my heels near the door and helped Elvis with his jacket. He ran off to his room, already talking to himself about dinosaurs or knights or something in between.

I headed straight to the bathroom. The apartment was warm, but my skin felt tight and itchy from the city's grime and the nerves of the day. I turned on the shower, steam rising almost instantly.

The moment the hot water hit my shoulders, I nearly groaned. My muscles ached in places I didn't even know were tense. I leaned my forehead against the cool tiles, letting everything swirl down the drain–coffee incidents, intense stares, big pitches, bigger questions.

Fifteen minutes later, I stepped out wrapped in my robe, skin pink from the heat. I tied my hair up, threw on a big shirt and went into the kitchen, already calculating what I could throw together quickly.

There were eggs. Cheese. Bread. A tomato that hadn't gone bad.

Omelettes it was.

I cracked eggs into a bowl, added salt, chopped the tomato, grated the cheese. Elvis popped his head into the kitchen just as I flipped one of the omelettes.

"Is Enid home yet?"

"Not yet, baby. Soon."

"I wanna show her my dragon."

"She's going to love it," I promised.

By the time the food was ready, I set the plates down, one for me, one for Elvis and one for Enid. I poured a glass of water for each of us and turned on the soft jazz Enid liked to unwind to. The living room clock read 5:44.

At 5:47, the front door clicked open.

"Smells good in here," Enid called out, dropping her bag by the door.

I smiled. "Perfect timing. Dinner's hot."

She stepped into the kitchen, already loosening her scrubs. Her braids were a little frizzy around the edges, and her face held that familiar tiredness I'd seen every evening since she started med school.

"Elvis!" she called. "Where's my boy?"

"In here!" he yelled back from the dining table. "I made a dragon!"

"Well, of course you did. You're the coolest kid I know." She gave him a kiss on the forehead, then turned to me. "You look like you've been hit by a small truck."

"Thanks. I feel like it too."

She laughed, disappeared into the bathroom, and came out ten minutes later in an oversized t-shirt and leggings.

We all sat down to eat. Elvis talked non-stop about his day, including what each of his classmates did wrong during gym class and how he wanted to be a vet and a superhero and maybe a YouTuber.

"You can be all three," Enid said between bites. "Just don't put the lizards in capes unless they consent."

Elvis giggled so hard he nearly snorted milk out of his nose.

It felt good. It felt like home.

After dinner, Elvis brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas without too much fuss. By 9:02, he was asleep in his bed, mouth slightly open, one arm thrown over his pillow like it was holding him in place.

The apartment quieted. The buzz of the city outside softened to a hum. I brought two mugs of chamomile tea into the living room and handed one to Enid, who was curled up on the couch with a blanket and her legs tucked beneath her.

"Alright," she said, blowing on her tea. "Spill. You didn't even text me today."

I took a long sip. "It was... a day."

"Work?"

I nodded. "The presentation was for Dylan Harper himself."

Enid's eyebrows shot up. "As in Dylan Harper?"

"Yes. And I accidentally spilled my coffee on him before the meeting."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

"Walked right into him. Coffee exploded like it had something to prove. Right down his expensive, judgmental shirt."

Enid laughed so hard she had to put her tea down.

"I'm serious," I said, smiling despite myself. "I thought I'd be escorted out."

"But?"

"He didn't throw me out. He asked questions. Hard ones. But I held my ground."

Enid grinned, proud. "That's my girl."

"I think we might actually get the pilot campaign."

She let out a slow whistle. "Damn. That's huge, Lenny."

"I know."

We were quiet for a moment. I picked at a thread on my blanket, staring at the TV screen that wasn't even on.

"Was he... intense?" Enid asked finally.

I looked up. "Yeah. That's the word."

She raised an eyebrow. "Tall, dark, and emotionally unavailable?"

I chuckled. "I don't know about the unavailable part. But he definitely looked at me like... like I was a puzzle. Or maybe a mistake."

Enid sipped her tea. "He said you looked familiar?"

"Yeah. But hopefully he doesn't recognize me quickly or it would get really awkward.

I mean, my heart did a flip when he was like "you look familiar" .

She leaned her head back against the couch. "Sounds like the man left an impression."

"I don't know what kind of impression. But yeah."

The silence stretched. Comfortably.

"I'm proud of you, Lenny," she said, softer this time. "You've been pushing so hard. Raising Elvis, running your firm, barely sleeping."

"I'm just trying to get it right."

"You are."

I felt something knot in my chest. Gratitude, maybe. Or exhaustion finally catching up to me.

"I just... sometimes I wonder if I'm moving too fast. Like, what if I blow this? What if Harper Corp is too big?"

"Then you pivot. Like you said in your pitch. Own the mistake and keep going."

I smiled faintly. "You make it sound easy."

"It's not. But you're not alone."

I leaned my head on her shoulder, and she rested hers lightly on mine.

The clock ticked past 10. Outside, the city never stopped, but in our little apartment, the world felt paused.

I didn't mention the flicker in Dylan's eyes. The strange sense that something wasn't quite surface-level with him. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was the beginning of something I hadn't yet named.

Either way, the night stretched ahead, calm but uncertain.

And I couldn't shake the feeling that today had shifted something. Even if I didn't know what.