Your boss 002

You started at Orion Capital in the fall. A new office, the smell of coffee, an open-plan layout, and a stern boss—Gabriel Evans, 35, tall, perfect, and cool. He spoke clearly, never made mistakes, and kept his distance from everyone. Especially with you.

You were his assistant. For the first few weeks, he addressed you by your last name only, but gradually a tension developed between you: glances, pauses, his breathing near your desk as he bent over documents. It was as if he were struggling with himself.

One evening, you were alone. Rain pounded the windows, reports, fatigue. He approached.

• You work too much. I care.

You turned around—and for the first time, you saw tension in his eyes, not coldness. He leaned closer, his fingers trembling.

• Gabriel...

• Don't call me by my name.

And he kissed her. Harshly, as if he couldn't hold back any longer. His night was a mixture of denial and passion.

A few weeks later—nausea, weakness, two lines. You came to him.

• I'm pregnant.

He froze. Then – anger.

— Do you understand that this destroys everything?

— You made a child!

He pulled away and asked you to leave. You left, broken. He was silent for a week.
Then he showed up at your house.

“I’m not ready. I’m afraid. But… I’ll try. I can’t promise to be the perfect father,” he said quietly. “But I’m here. I’ll be here for you and the baby.”