For His Sake
1232 Words
Chapter 3
The city buzzed with late afternoon chaos as Ariella stepped into the crowd, her thoughts louder than the horns blaring from impatient drivers. Her heels clicked against the pavement, but her chest felt hollow, like the air refused to settle in her lungs.
She was going to work for him.
Damien Blackwood.
The man who fathered her son... and didn’t even remember her name.
The name “Mr. Blackwood” felt too sharp, too cold. But “Damien” felt dangerous—like saying it out loud might bring all those buried memories rushing back too fast, too hard.
Her phone buzzed again. A daycare reminder.
> Liam will be ready for pick-up in 15 minutes. ❤️
Her heart clenched. That little emoji—a heart—felt like a dagger in her chest today.
She picked up her pace, crossing the street and weaving through the sidewalk rush. Her mind kept circling back to the office. The way Damien had looked at her—curious, slightly puzzled—but not like a man recognizing the woman he’d once held in his arms.
Not like a man seeing the mother of his child.
And yet… she had felt it. A flicker. A twinge of something behind his cold gray eyes. Something familiar. Maybe it was just her heart playing tricks on her. Maybe it was foolish to hope.
She shook her head. No hope. Not anymore. She had buried the fantasy of a perfect family long ago.
But working so close to him… every day… would test her in ways she hadn’t prepared for. Would she accidentally slip up? Would Liam ever meet him by accident?
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d have to be careful. Very careful.
---
By the time she reached the small, sun-colored daycare building, Ariella had pushed her thoughts as deep as they could go. The moment she stepped inside, a warm laugh echoed through the room.
“Mama!”
Liam ran into her arms, nearly knocking her over with his tiny backpack bouncing behind him. His curls were wild from playtime, his cheeks pink with joy.
She dropped to her knees and pulled him close, burying her face in his soft, sun-warmed hair. The scent of playdough and apple juice clung to him.
“There’s my big boy,” she whispered.
He pulled back with a grin that melted her heart. “Guess what I draw’d today!”
“You drew something?”
“It was a dragon! But it had glasses like you!” he giggled.
She smiled, her heart swelling despite the storm inside her. “A dragon with glasses? That’s a first.”
“Yeah, ‘cause he’s smart. Like me.”
She kissed his cheek and ruffled his curls. “Smarter than me, I think.”
As they walked hand-in-hand back to their tiny apartment, she glanced down at him and whispered to herself, Everything I do is for you.
---
The Next Morning
The walls of Blackwood Enterprises gleamed like glass ice, and Ariella’s nerves threatened to shatter against them.
She wore her best blouse—one she’d ironed three times the night before—and tucked her hair behind her ears as she waited in the executive lobby. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her ID badge: Ariella Johnson – Executive Assistant.
A thick, well-dressed man in a navy suit approached her with a clipboard.
“You’re the new PA?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Marcus. Chief of staff. Mr. Blackwood expects you at his office in ten. Here’s your schedule and your desk location. Don’t be late.”
“Of course not.”
Marcus didn’t smile—just nodded and disappeared through the elevator.
Ariella took a shaky breath.
Ten minutes. That’s all she had to pull herself together.
She thought of Liam’s sleepy voice that morning when she kissed his forehead goodbye.
> “You’re gonna do great, Mama.”
She needed that voice in her head now more than ever.
---
The executive floor was quiet and cold. No gossip, no unnecessary noise—just the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the occasional buzz of a phone.
When she reached Damien’s office, she paused for a breath, then knocked.
“Enter,” came the familiar, clipped voice.
She stepped inside.
He looked up briefly, dressed in a steel-gray suit that matched the storm in his eyes.
“Miss Johnson,” he said, not offering a smile. “Punctual. That’s good.”
“I try to be, sir,” she replied.
He gestured to a corner desk outside his office door. “That’s your workspace. You’ll manage my calendar, prep reports, and handle sensitive correspondence. Discretion is expected.”
“I understand.”
“There’s a folder on your desk. You’ll find the first week’s tasks and your system logins there. Start with the quarterly summary draft—my investors want it on Friday.”
Ariella nodded, already mentally filing his tone. Cold. Precise. All business.
“Any questions?” he asked, standing to walk past her toward the windows.
She opened her mouth, then hesitated. Have we really never met before? Do you really not remember what you did to me? But instead, she simply shook her head.
“No, sir.”
Damien turned, just as his phone rang. He dismissed her with a slight nod, already answering the call as she stepped back into the hallway.
---
Hours Later
By noon, Ariella’s hands ached from typing, and her mind swam with corporate lingo she barely understood. But she kept going. She always did.
She didn’t see much of Damien after that—just a few calls passed to her, a few documents slid his way—but she could feel his presence, like static in the air. Watching. Measuring.
She caught him staring once—just once—as she bent to pick up a file. His gaze lingered longer than it should have. Confused. Curious. Maybe even haunted.
But then it was gone, buried beneath his next demand: “Johnson, I need the Trexler figures by 3.”
By 3, she had them printed, color-coded, and on his desk.
He said nothing. Not even “thank you.” Just nodded and waved her away.
Still, something in her chest shifted.
He may not remember her… but he would notice her. Slowly. Quietly. One day at a time.
---
Evening
By the time she stepped out of the building, the sun had dipped low, casting golden shadows across the pavement. She tugged her coat tighter around her body and hurried to the bus stop, still thinking about him.
How could he not know?
How could he look at her face—the same one that stared back at him that night—and see nothing but another employee?
And worse… how could she feel anything for him after everything?
The bus arrived, and she slipped inside, sliding into a seat as exhaustion wrapped itself around her limbs. Her thoughts flickered between Damien’s eyes and Liam’s laughter. Two worlds, colliding.
Could she keep them separate?
Would the truth come out?
Would he hate her for hiding Liam?
She stared out the window, fingers curled in her lap.
I didn’t choose this.
But I will protect my son. Even if it means hiding him from his own father.
Even if it breaks me.
- Writer
