HIS FORBIDDEN DESIRE

CHAPTER FOUR

EVIE'S POV

PRESENT

"You understand why I had to go." Dad's voice was laced with sorrow. I could sense it.

We didn't want to leave New York. We had to because of my mom's passing.

Dad couldn't stay in the house without constantly being reminded of the memories with Mom. It was too hard for him to handle. He needed a new beginning, so we moved.

Mr. Thorne coughed slightly. "I don't hold it against you, James." His voice was raspy, but I knew he was hurting too — he'd lost his wife a year and a half ago. Dad had told me.

The silence in the room grew uncomfortable, particularly as I stood a bit away from my father, who was sitting down. Mr. Thorne was looking directly at my dad, and even though I couldn't see my father's face, I was certain he was looking back.

I had never imagined a situation where my father's actions could affect this....wealthy CEO.

I knew my dad had been affected by many things, like my mom's death and leaving his best friend. But I never considered that someone as wealthy as Mr. Thorne could be affected by the situation too.

As I watched his hand tense slightly, I realized he missed my father.

Growing up, I found it hard to believe that people from different social classes could form or keep a friendship, but they did.

Even when my father was feeling down, Mr. Thorne did his best to keep their friendship strong.

"I don't think I need to ask how your business is doing. Your achievements and success are known all over the world."

Mr. Thorne nodded slightly and relaxed his hand. "I'm in Minnesota to find top researchers in biomedicine and suggest internships for talented students for a new project I'm working on."

I couldn't tell if this man didn't understand what a compliment was or just didn't know how to accept one. From his flat voice and unemotional tone, it seemed like he was unaffected by my father's praise. There was no happiness, joy, or gratitude—just nothing. Was he just being proud?

I had barely crossed my arms when I heard my father's voice.

He didn't sound disappointed; in fact, he sounded quite pleased. "That's great, Ethan..."

My father must have been used to this reaction.

"But what exactly is Biomedics, and why Minnesota?" I looked at my father's bald head, feeling a bit embarrassed. Still, I wasn't surprised.

I cared deeply for my father. It was just the two of us. Even though he had his own feelings about my mother's passing, he always presented the most positive side of himself to me.

Despite this, I couldn't overlook the fact that he struggled with technology and felt out of his depth in the modern world.

He was never interested in gadgets and devices, which probably explained why his best friend was wealthy while my father was merely middle-class, or maybe even less. He had told me that he and Mr. Thorne had been best friends since their college days.

After college, they faced the challenge of making a living.

His friend pursued a career in technology, while Dad decided to go into carpentry. Yes, he actually learned it.

Dad's love for carpentry came, as he put it, from a deep place within. So he chose to follow a career in it. He did, and it gradually began to pay off.

As Dad was working hard to build a customer base, Mr. Thorne's start-up quickly gained recognition. Before long, he caught the interest of important investors, leading to his big break.

Dad, however, kept facing challenges until his best friend stepped in to assist him.

Mr. Throne connected my father with the right clients and made heavy investments in his carpentry business.

Things were going well until Mom was diagnosed with late-stage pancreatic cancer seven years ago. After that, my father's career and our lives took a completely different direction.

Since Dad declined financial help from his best friend, the little money he had saved was spent on Mom's care until she passed away two years after the diagnosis. After that, we were left with nothing.

We moved from New York to Minnesota two years later, where I started college. During that time, his best friend got married and they had a daughter named Sophie.

Three years have passed, and Dad continues to decline financial assistance from his friend. He has struggled with his career since Mother's passing.

Now, we live in a modest two-bedroom apartment in a less affluent area of Minnesota. And in this living room, where Dad has no idea what Biomedics is or why Minnesota University has piqued his best friend’s interest.

I moved my gaze from the spot on his head to his friend.

While his friend was extremely good-looking and looked like he was in his twenties, Dad looked his age. The stress of losing Mom and facing financial difficulties had taken its toll on him.

Regardless, Mr. Thorne didn't seem bothered by Dad's question.

Even with my dual degrees in psychology and children's education, I knew the University of Minnesota is renowned for its strong research programs in biomedical sciences. It's not exactly a mystery why he's here.

"To put it simply, biomedicine involves research to improve diagnosis and treatment, and the University of Minnesota offers what I need."

"I understand. But even so, you didn't consider telling me you'd be coming when we talked three days ago."

A slight smile appeared on his face. "I did think about it, but I chose not to."

I resisted the urge to look surprised. He had a sense of humor? My father laughed, and then he did too.

Oh no.

My heart was racing as I noticed the charming wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

His laugh was incredibly soothing. If laughter could be felt, his would be as smooth as honey and butter. It touched my heart gently.

I quickly placed my hand on my chest to calm my erratic heartbeat. Their words became a blur as I could only hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

No, Evie. Just don't.

I think I should head to my room, lock the door, and stay out of sight until this man leaves. As I started to leave, I heard someone call my name.

"… Evie."

I turned to see both of them looking at me. Not just looking, but waiting. It seemed like they were expecting something from me. Did they ask me something?

“Uh?”

“Oh, silly me. I just realized we haven't offered anything to our guest.”

Oh. I glanced briefly at Mr. Thorne. I wasn't expecting anything more than his usual indifferent expression. Maybe I hoped for a small protest—a polite refusal or a “don’t worry about it.”

But there was nothing.

“...Okay.” I walked towards the kitchen.

As I stepped into the kitchen with its peeling walls, I let out a deep breath before opening the fridge. It contained some half-eaten bread, jam, eggs, and a bottle of water.

I didn’t think the billionaire would want jam and bread. Cooking wasn’t my strength, so I ended up with just a bottle of water.

Without hesitation, I took the bottle of water and a clean glass and headed back to them.

Dad knew we didn’t have much, so…

As I approached, I purposely slowed down. I wasn’t sure if it was the water or the sudden nervousness that made my hands clammy.

“…She doesn’t seem to be improving. I’ve tried various methods and therapists, but nothing seems to help.” Mr. Throne’s voice was very quiet, and there was a notable sadness in it.

It was evident. The sorrow was clear in every word as I leaned in to listen more closely.

“How long has it been?”

“It started when she was three. In the year and a half since, she has changed so much.”

I didn’t need further details to know the discussion was about his daughter. But what happened? The last time I knew, Sophie was doing well.

“So you stopped the therapy?”

Therapy?

The water bottle nearly slipped from my grip, but I caught it just in time.

“For a while, yes,” Mr. Thorne said with a sigh. “She wasn’t improving anyway. I thought it was time to give her a break.”

“And the nanny? I hope she isn’t causing any problems?” Father’s voice was gentle, almost affectionate.

“Not at all. Sophie is quite used to the nanny, but the nanny has told me she’ll be gone for a month to care for her ill mother.”

Oh. I stood still, squinting as I tried to understand what was happening. Therapist? Sophie? What exactly was going on?

Everywhere was quiet for a bit as I was left alone with my thoughts. When would Dad tell me about this?

“Have you found a new nanny?”

Mr. Thorne sighed deeply this time. “Not yet...” he said slowly. “Sophie is a special child, and I need to carefully choose the best person for her.”

Dad didn’t seem to have anything more to add. The extended silence nearly compelled me to move in their direction. But just as I began to do so, Dad spoke up.

“My daughter, Evie, just graduated with a double major in psychology and special education.” There was a brief pause before he cleared his throat.

I could picture him adjusting his position with both hands on his knee. That was usually his way of showing he was serious.

My daughter has always wanted to be a special education teacher at a specific school. Since her mother passed away, this dream has become even more important to her. Even though she has degrees in both special education and psychology, she still needs to fulfill certain requirements to work at her ideal school, including having at least two years of experience working with children as a special educator.

I gulped, anticipating what was about to happen next.