[Leo’s POV]
The delivery cart squeaks like it's personally offended by Tuesdays.
I'm pushing it through the third floor corridor when voices drift from the break room. Normally I'd keep walking—office drama isn't my business.
But then I hear her name.
"That bitch Viola blocked me." Nathan's voice carries wounded ego. "Can you believe that? After everything, she just—blocked me. Like I'm nobody."
I slow my cart.
"Women like her are all the same," he continues. "They lead you on, make you think there's something there, then act surprised when you pursue it. She wanted the attention. She loved it."
My jaw tightens. I know who Viola really is. Hearing Nathan talk about Rory like property makes something dark curl in my chest.
"She thinks she can hide from me." His voice drops uglier. "But I know things. I've been watching. I know her routine."
My blood turns to ice.
That's not disappointment talking. That's obsession. That's a man documenting someone's movements. And he doesn't even know the woman he's stalking sits ten feet from his desk every day.
I leave my cart and walk into the break room.
Nathan's leaning against the counter, coffee in hand, some sales guy nodding along sympathetically.
"What do you want, delivery boy?" He sneers.
"Couldn't help overhearing." I keep my voice calm. "Stalking's a crime. Might want to be careful what you admit to in break rooms."
Nathan laughs—hollow, arrogant.
"Mind your own business." He sets down his coffee. "This doesn't concern you."
"It concerns anyone who hears you bragging about watching someone's routine." My hands curl into fists. "That's not pursuit. That's predator behavior."
Nathan's face twists. "You don't know anything about—"
"I know enough." I step closer. "I know you're the kind of man who can't handle rejection. Who thinks 'no' means 'try harder.' Who'd rather terrorize a woman than accept she's not interested."
"Listen here, you minimum-wage—"
Something snaps.
My fist connects with his jaw before my brain catches up. The impact radiates through my knuckles. Nathan staggers backward, coffee cup shattering.
"What the hell—" He lunges, but I'm ready.
We're a tangle of fists and fury, crashing into the counter. I take a hit to my lip—taste copper—but land another punch before hands haul me backward.
"Security!" someone shouts.
Two guards separate us. Nathan's clutching his jaw, eyes blazing. I'm breathing hard, split lip dripping blood onto my uniform.
"He attacked me!" Nathan snarls. "You all saw it!"
They escort me out with efficient indifference.
"You're banned from deliveries for a week," the head guard says. "Pending review."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
The doors slide shut behind me.
Two hours later, I'm on a park bench three blocks from the office.
My lip's swollen. My knuckles ache. I've been pressing a napkin to my mouth, watching pigeons fight over someone's abandoned pretzel.
I probably just lost my job. Months of building rapport, the quiet moments with Rory, the origami creatures—all gone because I couldn't control myself around Nathan Cole.
Worth it, some part of me whispers.
I'm lost in thought when impact comes.
Someone small crashes into my legs—a blur of dinosaur t-shirt and energy. A little boy stares up at me with wide eyes.
"Sorry, mister! I was being a velociraptor and velociraptors don't have brakes!"
"Milo!" A familiar voice cuts through the noise.
My heart stops.
Rory rounds the corner, cheeks flushed. Jeans and soft sweater—no grandmother cardigan. Hair down. No glasses.
She looks beautiful. She also looks terrified when she sees my face.
"Leo?" She stops short. "What happened to you? Your lip—your hand—"
I stand quickly, backing away. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—I know you said you were careful about who meets Milo, and I wasn't trying to—"
"Leo." Her voice softens. "Stop apologizing. What happened?"
Milo stares with intense five-year-old scrutiny. "Did you get hurt fighting a bad guy?"
I crouch down, wincing. "Something like that, buddy. Yeah."
His eyes go round. "Are you a superhero? Only superheroes fight bad guys! Mommy, he's a superhero!"
Rory's expression shifts—concern mixing with warmth. She meets my eyes over Milo's head.
"It's nothing," I say. "Just a disagreement at work."
"That looks like more than a disagreement."
Milo tugs my sleeve. "Do you want to play with us? We were going to the playground. Superheroes need to play too or they get tired and can't save people."
I look at Rory, ready to excuse myself. She hesitates, then nods.
"Come on," she says quietly. "You look like you could use some normal."
The afternoon unfolds like a dream.
Milo drags me to the swings, demanding I push him "super high, but not too super high because that's scary." His laughter rings across the playground.
"Higher! No wait, that's good! Okay maybe a little higher!"
Rory watches from a nearby bench, smiling.
We move to the climbing structure, where Milo appoints me his official dinosaur spotter. Apparently velociraptors live in the yellow tube slide.
"Coast is clear," I report seriously. "No velociraptors detected."
"Are you sure? They're sneaky."
"I'm sure. I have superhero vision."
He launches himself down, shrieking with joy.
Ice cream happens next—chocolate for Milo, vanilla for Rory, strawberry for me. We sit together, Milo wedged between us, chattering about dinosaur facts.
"T-Rexes had tiny arms but they could still bite through bones! And pterodactyls weren't actually dinosaurs, they were flying reptiles, but everyone always gets that wrong!"
"I didn't know that," I admit. "You're really smart."
"Mommy reads me dinosaur books every night." He licks his ice cream. "Do you like dinosaurs?"
"I think they're pretty amazing. Especially the ones with armor, like Ankylosaurus."
Milo gasps. "That's my third favorite! After T-Rex and Triceratops!"
We talk dinosaurs until shadows grow long.
Walking back toward Rory's car, Milo runs ahead to investigate an interesting stick. I fall into step beside her.
"Leo." Her voice is low. "What really happened?"
I glance at Milo—out of earshot—then back at her. "I overheard Nathan. In the break room. He was talking about Viola."
Her face goes pale.
"He said he's been watching. That he knows her routine." I keep my voice steady. "It wasn't bragging anymore. It was threats. He's dangerous, Rory."
She stops walking. Her hands tremble.
"I couldn't just let him say those things," I continue quietly. "About you. So I hit him. Security threw me out. I'm banned for a week, maybe longer."
"You got banned because of me?"
"I got banned because Nathan Cole is a stalker who needed to know someone's paying attention." I face her fully. "Whatever happens next—whatever he tries—I won't let anything happen to you. Or Milo. I promise."
Her eyes are bright with tears.
"Leo..."
Milo comes running back, stick raised triumphantly. "Mommy! Look! It's shaped like a lightning bolt! I'm gonna be Zeus!"
Rory blinks rapidly, composing herself. "That's amazing, baby."
I crouch down, meeting Milo's eyes. "You take good care of your mom, okay? She's pretty special."
"I know," he says seriously. "She checks for velociraptors every night."
We reach her car. Milo climbs into his car seat. Rory lingers at the driver's door.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For everything."
"Always," I say.
She drives away. I stand in the parking lot until her taillights disappear.
My lip throbs. My hand aches. I might have lost my job.
But watching her go, knowing she's safe for now, knowing Milo thinks I'm a superhero—it feels like the first thing I've done right in a very long time.