It took hours. The moon outside the penthouse window was replaced by the gray light of a New York dawn. Sofia had fallen asleep in the armchair, curled up uncomfortably, while Emma and Lucas were sprawled across the foot of the bed, fast asleep.

Mateo’s finger twitched. Then his hand.

He forced his eyelids open. The room was blurry, but he saw her. He tried to speak, but his throat was like sandpaper. instead, he reached out a shaky hand and covered Sofia’s cold fingers where they rested on the bedrail.

Sofia jolted awake. Her eyes widened, scanning his face. “Mateo?”

“Don’t…” he rasped, his voice barely a croak. “Don’t… leave.”

Two Months Later

The Sandoval estate had changed. The sterile, museum-like atmosphere was gone. In the living room, a pillow fort—an architectural marvel engineered by a CEO and two children—dominated the expensive Persian rug.

Mateo sat on the floor, not in a suit, but in jeans and a t-shirt. He was still recovering, using a cane occasionally, but his presence was constant. He had instituted a new rule: “No-Phone Fridays.”

Sofia walked in carrying a tray of popcorn and root beer floats. She watched Mateo wrestling with Lucas, ticking the boy until he shrieked with laughter. The shadows that used to haunt Mateo’s eyes were gone, replaced by a fierce, protective warmth.

However, the tension between Mateo and Sofia remained—a thick, electric silence that hovered whenever the children weren’t looking. He hadn’t mentioned the night in the hospital. She assumed he hadn’t heard.

The doorbell rang, shattering the peace.

Sofia stiffened. “I’ll get it.”

“No,” Mateo said, standing up. “I know who that is. Stay here.”

He walked to the foyer just as the housekeeper opened the door to reveal Eleanor, Mateo’s mother. She swept in, clutching her pearls, her gaze immediately landing on Sofia in the background.

“Mateo, darling,” Eleanor started, ignoring the pillow fort. “I heard you canceled the Merger Gala. And why is the nanny eating with the family? It’s improper.”

Emma and Lucas shrank back. Sofia stepped forward instinctively to shield them, her face pale. “Mrs. Sandoval, I was just—”

“Stop,” Mateo said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the authority that had built an empire. He stepped between his mother and Sofia.

“Mother, you are welcome to visit,” Mateo said calmly. “But you will not disrespect the woman who saved this family.”

Eleanor scoffed. “Saved? She is an employee, Mateo. A temporary fix.”

“No,” Mateo said, turning to look at Sofia. “She’s the only one who stayed when things got dark. You told my children that people always leave. You were wrong.”

He turned back to his mother. “Sofia isn’t the help. She’s the heart of this house. If you can’t treat her with the reverence she deserves, you can leave.”

Silence stretched through the hallway. Eleanor, realizing her son was immovable, tightened her lips, nodded curtly, and walked out the door.

Mateo let out a long breath and turned around. Emma and Lucas ran to him, hugging his legs. “You sent Grandma away?” Lucas asked, eyes wide.

“I sent away the negativity, kiddo,” Mateo ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you two go pick the movie? I need to talk to Sofia.”

The kids scrambled into the media room.

Mateo walked over to Sofia. She was trembling slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Mateo said, stepping closer. “I have a lot of making up to do. To the kids. And to you.”

“To me?” Sofia looked up, confused. “Mateo, you don’t owe me anything. I’m just doing my job.”

Mateo reached out and gently took her hand, just as he had in the hospital. He looked deep into her eyes.

“I heard you,” he whispered.

Sofia froze. The color drained from her face. “You… what?”

“That night in the hospital,” Mateo said softly. “The sedative paralyzed my body, but my mind was awake. I heard what the kids said. I heard you defend me.” He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I heard what you whispered when you thought I was asleep.”

Sofia looked like she wanted to run, but Mateo held her fast.

“You said you didn’t just love my children,” Mateo quoted, his voice husky. “You said, ‘I love you too.’“

Tears welled in Sofia’s eyes. “I… I shouldn’t have. It was unprofessional. I can pack my bags if—”

“Sofia, stop.” Mateo cupped her face in his hands. “I didn’t wake up because the drugs wore off. I woke up because I heard you. You gave me a reason to come back.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “I have been asleep for a long time, even before the accident. You woke me up. I don’t want a nanny for my children anymore.”

“You don’t?” she whispered.

“No,” he smiled, and it was the first time she had seen a genuine, carefree smile on his face. “I want a partner. I want a family. And I want you.”

“I love you, Mateo,” she breathed, the confession finally free.

“I love you, Sofia.”

He kissed her, deep and slow, sealing a promise that no one in that house would ever be left behind again. From the other room, the sound of the movie starting played in the background, but for the first time in years, the Sandoval house wasn’t just a house. It was a home.