The Billionaire's Little Matchmaker

Chapter 8: The Workaholic Father

It was already 9 PM, and the dining room was still brightly lit. But the scene inside was heartbreaking.

Little Elara sat all alone in a chair that was way too big for her tiny body. Her short legs dangled in the air, nowhere near touching the floor. In front of her was a plate of rice and fried chicken that had long gone cold. Her big, round eyes kept staring at the empty chair at the head of the table—the spot where Daddy was supposed to be sitting.

"Daddy said he'd come home for dinner," she whispered so quietly that her voice barely made a sound in the silent room.

Sienna sat next to her, watching Elara's disappointed face, and felt her heart breaking into pieces. This was the third time this week. The third time Leonard had promised to come home for dinner, and the third time he'd broken that promise.

"Maybe Daddy had a really important meeting he couldn't leave," Sienna said gently, trying to find an excuse that a five-year-old would understand.

"Another meeting," Elara mumbled, poking at her chicken with her little fork. "Why are Daddy's meetings always more important than eating dinner with me?"

That innocent question hit Sienna like a punch to the gut. How could she possibly explain to such a young child why adults run away from their pain? How could she tell Elara that her father wasn't avoiding her because he didn't love her, but because this house was full of memories that hurt too much to face?

"Come on, sweetie, you need to eat. You'll get sick if you don't," Sienna coaxed, cutting the chicken into smaller pieces for her.

Elara nodded and started eating, but her eyes kept drifting to the window, hoping to see the headlights of Daddy's car pulling into the driveway. Every little sound from outside made her head snap up with hope, only to slump back down when it wasn't what she was waiting for.

Sienna stayed with her through the painful silence, watching how Elara ate like a robot—no joy, no appetite, just going through the motions. Every few minutes, Elara would stop chewing and stare at the family photo on the side table. It showed Leonard, Isabella, and baby Elara, all of them smiling like they were the happiest family in the world.

"Miss Sienna," Elara suddenly said, "when Mama was still here, Daddy always came home for dinner. We'd all sit together right here. Daddy would tell us funny stories about work, Mama would talk about the yummy food she made, and I'd tell them about playing with my friends."

Her little voice started shaking. "Why doesn't Daddy want to sit with me anymore? Is it because I'm not as smart as Mama? Because I can't tell interesting stories like she could?"

"Oh, sweetheart." Sienna immediately got up and knelt down next to Elara's chair, taking her small hands. "Daddy loves you so, so much. This has nothing to do with you, okay? You're perfect just the way you are."

"But if Daddy loves me, why doesn't he want to be with me?"

Sienna looked into those big brown eyes that were starting to fill with tears, and her heart ached. How do you explain to a child that sometimes the people who love us the most can hurt us without meaning to? That Leonard wasn't staying away because he didn't care, but because every time he sat at this table, he could hear Isabella's laughter—laughter that would never fill this room again?

"Sometimes when grown-ups are really, really sad inside, they get confused about how to show their love," Sienna finally said. "Daddy isn't trying to hurt your feelings. He just doesn't know how to be happy again after losing Mama."

Elara nodded, but Sienna could see that this explanation wasn't enough to fill the hole in a five-year-old's heart. What Elara needed wasn't explanations—she needed hugs, bedtime stories, someone to ask about her day. She needed her daddy to actually be there.

They finished eating in silence. Sienna had to keep feeding Elara, who had completely lost her appetite, and told silly stories to try to distract her from that empty chair. When Elara couldn't eat anymore, Sienna cleaned up and took her to the living room.

"Let's wait for Daddy while we watch a movie," Sienna suggested, turning on the TV.

Elara curled up on the couch with her head resting against Sienna's arm. They put on some cartoon about a family of bears, but Sienna knew Elara wasn't really watching. The little girl kept glancing at the front door and perking up at every sound of cars driving by.

By 10 PM, Elara's eyes were getting heavy. She fell asleep in an awkward position on Sienna's lap, but her face looked peaceful—so different from how restless she'd been all evening. Sienna didn't dare move, afraid of waking her up. She just sat there, gently stroking Elara's soft hair and watching the clock on the wall.

Finally, at 11:15, she heard a car engine in the driveway. Sienna's whole body tensed up—part relief, part frustration. Headlights swept across the living room window, and then came the sound of keys at the front door.

Leonard walked in looking completely exhausted. His expensive gray suit was wrinkled, his tie was loose, and his work bag hung heavily from his shoulder. His blue eyes looked tired—not just physically tired, but the kind of soul-deep exhaustion that comes from carrying pain for way too long.

He stopped short when he saw Sienna still sitting there with Elara asleep in her lap. His expression went from tired to confused, then got a little defensive.

"Why haven't you gone home yet?" he asked, his tone sharp but not quite hiding the guilt underneath.

Sienna looked right at him, staying calm even though his question sounded like an accusation. She could tell Leonard was in full defense mode—the way he always got when he felt guilty or cornered.

"Elara was waiting for you to have dinner together," Sienna said, her voice gentle but firm. "She waited until 10 o'clock, hoping you'd come home. She finally fell asleep here because she didn't want to leave the table before you got back."

Leonard went quiet, his eyes dropping to look at his daughter sleeping peacefully. Something flickered across his face—regret, guilt, maybe even pain. His work bag slipped off his shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud.

"I had an important meeting with clients from Japan. They could only meet at night because of the time difference," he said, but his voice didn't have its usual confidence. "It was about a major contract that—"

"I know you have big work responsibilities," Sienna interrupted gently. "But Elara is your responsibility too. And right now, she's growing up and needs a father who's actually here—not just someone who pays the bills."

Leonard stared at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. There was anger at being challenged, but also recognition that what she was saying was true. His jaw tightened, but his blue eyes couldn't look away from his daughter's peaceful face.

"You don't understand my situation," he finally said, his voice quieter now. "You don't know how hard it is to raise a child alone while running a company. I'm doing the best I can."

"I know this isn't easy," Sienna replied, still stroking Elara's hair. "But what you think is 'your best' and what Elara actually needs might be two completely different things."

The room fell into tense silence. Leonard stood there with his hands clenched at his sides, torn between anger and the growing realization that she was right. Sienna could see his internal battle—part of him knew he was wrong, but the other part was still clinging to the walls he'd built around himself.

"I'll take Elara to her room," Leonard finally said, stepping closer.

Sienna nodded and carefully transferred Elara into her father's arms. The little girl stirred slightly, her hand reaching out to grab Leonard's suit jacket and hold on tight, like she was afraid he'd disappear again.

"Daddy?" Elara whispered without opening her eyes, her voice soft and dreamy.

"Yes, princess. Daddy's home now," Leonard answered, his voice suddenly becoming tender—so different from the cold tone he'd used with Sienna just moments before.

Elara smiled a little in her sleep and hugged his arm even tighter. "I waited for Daddy for dinner. Why was Daddy gone so long?"

Leonard didn't answer right away. He just stared at his daughter's innocent sleeping face, and his chest felt like something was squeezing his heart. "I'm sorry, princess. Daddy won't be late again."

But even in her sleep, Elara seemed to sense it was just another empty promise. She made a little whimpering sound and held onto her father even tighter, like she was trying to keep him from leaving again.

Leonard carried Elara upstairs, leaving Sienna alone in the living room. She could hear his slow footsteps on the stairs, like each step was a heavy burden.

A few minutes later, she heard soft voices coming from Elara's room—Leonard whispering something. She couldn't make out the words, but his tone was shaky, full of heartbreaking regret. It went on for a while, like Leonard was finally letting out all the guilt he'd been carrying for so long.