Part 5 – The Race Car Driver
Two weeks after that first dinner, I found myself at the apartment more often than I cared to admit.
It started with small things. Dropping off groceries on my way home from the office. Stopping by on a Sunday afternoon with a new book for Sophia and a set of building blocks for Samuel. Once, I even stayed to help put together a small bookshelf Anna had bought secondhand. The twins had “supervised” from the couch, offering very serious advice about which screw went where.
Anna never asked me to come. She never had to.
The truth was, I kept finding reasons to return because the alternative—going back to my quiet penthouse or the cold efficiency of the presidential suite—had started to feel hollow.
Tonight, I arrived just after six with takeout from a small Italian place I liked. Anna opened the door wearing an oversized sweater and socks, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. She looked tired but calmer than she had the first night I met her.
“You didn’t have to bring dinner,” she said, though she was already taking the bags from me.
“I know,” I replied. “I wanted to.”
From the living room, Samuel’s voice rang out. “Mr. Damien! The elephant is a race car driver now! He won first place!”
I stepped inside and saw the twins sitting on the floor with a makeshift racetrack made of books and tape. Samuel was zooming his toy car around while Sophia narrated dramatically.
“The elephant is very fast,” she informed me seriously. “But sometimes he forgets to brake.”
I crouched down beside them. “That sounds dangerous. Does he have a helmet?”
Samuel shook his head. “He says helmets mess up his ears.”
Anna laughed softly from the kitchen. The sound had become familiar to me over the past two weeks—quiet, warm, and increasingly frequent.
While the twins played, Anna and I moved into the small kitchen to unpack the food. She poured us each a glass of water and leaned against the counter, watching me with that thoughtful expression she sometimes wore when she was trying to figure me out.
“You’ve been here four times this week,” she said quietly.
I didn’t deny it. “Is that a problem?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just… unexpected. Most people don’t keep coming back once they’ve done their good deed.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’m starting to notice that.”
We ate together at the small table while the twins continued their race in the living room. Samuel kept making engine noises loud enough to make Sophia giggle. Every so often, one of them would run over to show us something new their elephant had accomplished.
After dinner, Anna put the twins to bed while I cleared the table. When she came back out, she looked more relaxed than I had ever seen her. She sat on the couch and tucked her legs beneath her.
“They ask about you when you’re not here,” she said. “Samuel wanted to know if you were going to be their new dad.”
I paused, the dish towel still in my hands.
“What did you tell him?”
Anna smiled faintly. “I told him you’re our friend. A very important friend who helps us. He seemed satisfied with that for now.”
I sat across from her on the armchair. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional sound of one of the twins shifting in their sleep.
“Can I ask you something?” Anna said after a moment.
“Of course.”
“Why are you still here? Really. Not the polite answer. The real one.”
I looked at her for a long time before answering.
“Because when I’m here, I don’t feel like I’m performing,” I said. “At the hotel, in boardrooms, even in my own penthouse… I’m always Damien Martin, CEO. The man who built an empire. The man who doesn’t make mistakes. Here, I’m just… someone who brings dinner. Someone who listens when Samuel explains why his elephant needs a race car license. Someone who gets to see Sophia’s drawings before they go on the fridge.”
I exhaled slowly.
“I spent years making sure no one could get close enough to see the parts of me that aren’t polished. You and the twins didn’t ask for permission. You just… let me in. And I don’t want to go back to the version of my life where that doesn’t happen.”
Anna was quiet for a while. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft.
“I know what it’s like to be lonely even when you’re surrounded by people,” she said. “After Derek left, I had the twins, but I still felt completely alone. Like I was carrying everything by myself and no one could see how heavy it was. You’re the first person in a long time who’s looked at me and seen more than just a struggling single mom.”
She met my eyes.
“I’m scared of what this is becoming,” she admitted. “Not because I don’t trust you. But because I do. And I have two little hearts to protect.”
“I would never hurt them,” I said. “Or you.”
“I know.” She smiled, small but genuine. “That’s what scares me. Because if I let myself believe this is real, and it disappears… I don’t think I could survive watching them lose another person they care about.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
“I’m not going anywhere, Anna. Not unless you ask me to.”
She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
From the hallway, we heard Samuel’s sleepy voice calling out.
“Mommy? Can the elephant say goodnight to Mr. Damien?”
Anna looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind?”
I stood. “Not at all.”
We walked together to the twins’ room. Samuel was sitting up in bed, clutching his elephant. Sophia was already half-asleep beside him, one hand resting on her brother’s blanket.
I crouched beside Samuel’s bed.
“Goodnight, race car driver,” I said.
Samuel grinned sleepily and held out the elephant. “He wants to say goodnight too.”
I carefully took the stuffed animal and gave it a small nod. “Goodnight, elephant.”
Samuel seemed satisfied. He lay back down and closed his eyes.
As Anna and I stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind us, she touched my arm lightly.
“Thank you,” she said. “For tonight. For all of it.”
I looked down at her hand on my sleeve, then back at her face.
“You don’t have to thank me anymore,” I said. “This stopped being charity a while ago.”
She didn’t move her hand right away.
“I know,” she whispered.
For a moment, we stood in the quiet hallway, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between us. Then Anna slowly let her hand fall.
I didn’t push. I didn’t need to.
May you like
Some things, I was learning, were worth waiting for.
And Anna Silva and her two small children were quickly becoming the most important things I had ever chosen to wait for.
