He Married My Muse

The delayed Route

Among the dozens of people heading home, one woman caught his attention. She wasn’t trying to be noticed. She wore no extravagant outfit, no dramatic makeup. There was simply something peaceful about her.

As Harry realized his turnoff was approaching, he made a split-second decision. He slowed his pace to a brisk walk, deliberately delaying his route home just to stay parallel with her.

"Excuse me," he said, matching her stride. His voice was a rich, grounded baritone, though he was still catching his breath. "I know this is entirely random, but if I didn't say hello now, I'd spend the rest of the evening kicking myself."

Phoebe glanced over, a bit startled. Up close, the dimples were even more pronounced, but she guarded her expression carefully. "Hello," she replied, keeping her pace steady. She wasn't particularly interested in being picked up on her walk home after a grueling day.

Harry didn't miss her polite detachment, but instead of pushing harder, his charm shifted into something entirely disarming and modest. "I'm Harry," he said, offering a warm smile. "And I promise I’m harmless. Just a guy who clearly has terrible timing when it comes to introductions."

There was an effortless, grounded nature to him that slowly began to chip away at her defenses. As they walked toward the crowded taxi stand, the conversation began to flow. Phoebe found herself answering his gentle questions, though she kept her own details brief. Harry, on the other hand, became an absolute open book.

"I actually work not too far from here," he mentioned casually as they neared her queue. "At Gard Legal."

Phoebe’s eyes widened slightly. Harry Gard. Thee Harry Gard.

Gard Legal wasn't just a prestigious law firm; it was a powerhouse that he had built entirely from the ground up. He was the founder and sole director, a legendary trial attorney known in every corporate circle as the man who had single-handedly never lost a case. Yet, looking at him now in his sweaty running gear, there was zero arrogance. He was speaking to her—an accountant intern—with absolute respect and genuine curiosity.

"It keeps me busy running the firm," Harry continued, his expression softening into something incredibly tender. "But not as busy as my main job. I'm a single dad. Raised my son on my own since he was born back when I was still in university. It was chaotic, but he's the best thing that ever happened to me."

Phoebe blinked, entirely caught off guard. Most men in his league played their cards close to their chest, hiding baggage or flaunting power. But Harry was laying it all on the table, intentionally making sure there were no secrets between them from minute one.

They reached the front of the taxi line. Harry stepped forward, opening the car door for her like a classic gentleman. Before she could climb in, he turned to her, his dark eyes locked onto hers with absolute clarity.

"I don't believe in wasting time when I see something rare, Phoebe," he said softly, handing her his phone. "I would really love to court you. Properly. And I'd like to start by picking you up from work tomorrow evening. May I have your number?"

Dazed by his sheer honesty and the surreal nature of the moment, Phoebe found her fingers typing her number into his phone before her brain could even protest.

"I'll text you the second I get home," Harry smiled, stepping back to let her slide into the seat. "Have a safe ride."

As the taxi pulled away into the evening traffic, Phoebe leaned her head against the window, her heart doing a strange, unfamiliar flutter. She had never met someone who became such an open book on a random, unplanned meeting. Maybe,she thought, watching his tall figure disappear into the crowd, he really is a different kind of man.