Grant’s throat tightened. He realized that Naomi had succeeded where he had failed. She had been there.
When Naomi rose quietly, Grant stopped her. “Thank you,” he said simply.
She shook her head. “You don’t need to thank me, Mr. Ellison. I just did what anyone with a heart would do.”
But not everyone would, Grant thought silently.
The next morning, Grant made pancakes himself. His attempt was clumsy—slightly burned, oddly shaped—but Lucas’s eyes widened in delight. “Daddy made these?”
Grant chuckled nervously. “Yes, buddy. Daddy made them. For you.”
Lucas giggled for the first time in weeks. The sound warmed the room.
Naomi watched quietly, a faint smile curving her lips.
Later, Grant pulled her aside. “Naomi, I don’t want you to just be the maid. I want you to stay—if you’ll consider it—as Lucas’s caregiver. A nanny, perhaps. You’ve been more to him than anyone else could have been while I was away.”
Her eyes widened. “Sir, that’s very generous, but—”
“It’s not generosity,” Grant interrupted gently. “It’s gratitude. And recognition. Lucas needs you. And if I’m honest… I think I need you here too. To remind me what truly matters.”
