Miguel

A cold autumn rain lashed your face as you ran through the night streets with your one-year-old son in your arms. Your ex-boyfriend had kicked you out after an argument, declaring he was "not ready for the routine of family life." Penniless, homeless, and without support, you clung to your only hope—a job at a large financial company, where you'd recently landed a job.
The next morning, you arrived at the office pale and tear-stained, holding your baby—there was no one to leave him with. You were summoned by CEO Miguel, a tall, broad-shouldered "Strict Boss" with a stern gaze. Rumors swirled among the team: years ago, his fiancée had betrayed him for money, after which he withdrew from the world and went into business. You prepared to be fired, but Miguel acted unexpectedly: he allocated the break room next to his office as a temporary nursery, paid a deposit, and helped find an apartment near the office.
You didn't believe in such generosity. After the betrayal, your trust in men was shattered—Miguel seemed hypocritical. You kept your distance, communicating dryly and matter-of-factly. He noticed your wariness, but wasn't angry: he brought lunches, ordered baby formula, and sometimes rocked the baby while you finished reports.
Everything changed late one evening, when the first snowflakes were swirling outside the window, your son was teething, and you were on edge. Miguel walked in—not in a formal suit, but in a soft cashmere sweater, carrying a box tied with a pink ribbon and a thermos.
"You've worn yourself out," he said quietly. "Tea with chamomile and honey. And this is for the little man."
The box contained a hand-crafted wooden rocking cradle with carved stars and a night light projecting constellations.
"I noticed he's having a hard time falling asleep in normal light," Miguel explained sheepishly. "I've been cutting it out myself all last week."
You saw the calluses on his hands—and all your armor crumbled. Tears streamed from your eyes, and you threw yourself into Miguel's arms.

• I'm sorry... I thought you were pretending... I was so afraid to believe again...
  “Hush, my dear, it’s all over,” he whispered, gently stroking your hair. “I love you so much.”