Chapter 7: When My World Needs Me More
577 Words
Dahlia sat stiffly at her desk the next morning, trying to ignore the stares, the side glances, and the way no one bothered to speak to her anymore unless they had to.
Her hands hovered above her keyboard, but she couldn’t focus. Her chest still ached from yesterday—Alaric’s disappointment, his cold dismissal, and Mira’s smug, untouched position in the company.
Dahlia hadn’t slept. Not really.
She spent most of the night staring at the ceiling while Iris slept curled against her chest, her tiny hand gripping her mother’s shirt like she could feel Dahlia slipping away.
Now she was here, barely holding herself together, because she had to be.
Because life didn’t pause just because your heart cracked in two.
⸻
At noon, her phone buzzed.
She reached for it, expecting another cold reminder from her supervisor about the presentation—but her blood froze when she saw the name.
Iris’s daycare.
“Ms. Hart, I’m sorry, but Iris has a high fever and has been throwing up. She’s resting now, but she’s crying for you.”
Dahlia stood so quickly her chair nearly toppled. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
She didn’t even ask permission.
She just grabbed her bag, rushed through the office, and disappeared into the elevator.
For the first time since she started working here, she didn’t care what people whispered behind her back.
⸻
At the daycare…
Iris lay on a small cot in the nurse’s room, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. The moment she saw Dahlia, her lips trembled.
“Mommy…”
Dahlia dropped to her knees and pulled her into her arms.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here now.”
She held her daughter as tightly as she could without hurting her, brushing damp hair from her forehead and murmuring softly.
Iris clung to her with quiet sobs, and Dahlia knew.
No job. No paycheck. No cold hallway full of people pretending she didn’t exist—none of it could compare to this.
This tiny, burning body in her arms was her whole world.
⸻
That evening…
Dahlia sat beside Iris’s bed in their small apartment, pressing a cool cloth to her daughter’s forehead.
Iris finally drifted off to sleep, her breathing evening out.
Dahlia stared at the ceiling, the weight of the decision already sinking in.
She couldn’t leave Iris again like that. Not while she was still recovering. Not when she needed her most.
She had planned to go back to work the next day, even after everything.
But now…
She reached for her phone and typed a short email to HR.
Subject: Leave Request
Due to a family emergency, I will need to take temporary leave effective immediately. I understand this may impact my position. I apologize for the inconvenience and hope to return once my daughter is well.
—Dahlia Hart
She hovered over the “Send” button, her hands trembling.
Then she pressed it.
The silence afterward felt terrifying and freeing all at once.
⸻
Meanwhile, at Montclair Enterprises…
Alaric stood by his office window, arms crossed, mind restless.
For the second day in a row, he caught himself glancing toward the marketing floor.
Something about Dahlia Hart gnawed at him—her voice, her stare, the way she stood her ground even when shaken.
He didn’t trust easily. But something told him the mistake wasn’t hers.
He turned to his assistant. “Send me her full employment file.”
- Writer
