Patience Heart

Ms. Turner

Mathias's POV

I don't know why I was drawn to the woman sitting beside me.

Since the first time I met her, she was different. Confident yet understated, with a natural elegance that seemed effortless. I still remember how she carried herself during that first presentation, explaining her plan and design for the Chattame office renovations. She stood there in front of the whole team, calm and composed, as if she had already envisioned every single detail in her mind. That was when something shifted in me—something I couldn't quite put into words.

Ever since that day, I found myself looking forward to our weekly report meetings. It wasn't the numbers or the project updates that I cared about anymore—it was her. Ellen Turner.

At first, I convinced myself it was just admiration for her work. She was talented, after all, and I'd always respected professionalism. But that excuse didn't last long. Soon, I was watching for more than just her design updates. She was rarely in the main office, usually busy overseeing the third-floor renovation, but whenever I did catch a glimpse of her, it felt like time slowed. My world would shrink for a moment, revolving solely around her. She was often with Mama Dee—who I trusted more than anyone—but it wasn't Mama Dee who occupied my thoughts. It was Viola.

She moved my heart.

I had experienced attraction before. I had even been married briefly when I was twenty—young, reckless, and in love with an ideal. That relationship ended just as quickly as it began, leaving me with a deeper understanding of life, love, and the need to be practical. I knew what it felt like to be drawn to someone. But this... this was different. Every time I saw Viola, my heart skipped a beat, as cliché as that sounded. It was something I couldn't control, a pull that grew stronger with every interaction.

It didn't make sense—not for someone like me. My life was structured, disciplined, and dedicated to building Chattame and WellSecure from the ground up. Relationships, feelings—those were distractions I couldn't afford. I'd mastered the art of compartmentalization, building walls to keep my emotions at bay, to stay focused on what really mattered: my work. But with her, those walls were crumbling, piece by piece, no matter how much I tried to hold them up.

I remember one particular moment that shook me more than I expected. I caught a glimpse of her in the hallway, laughing with Mama Dee. There was something about that sound—her laugh. It was infectious, like music I hadn't realized I needed to hear. I felt a tug in my chest, stronger than ever before. I wanted to be the reason for that smile. I wanted to know what made her laugh so freely, so openly. More than that, I wanted to be part of her world.

But every time I felt myself crossing that invisible line, I reeled it back in. I told myself I couldn't afford to be distracted. Viola worked for me—there were boundaries that shouldn't be crossed. I had already made that mistake once in my youth, and I wasn't eager to repeat it. I had no intention of letting my heart lead me into something I couldn't handle, something that could jeopardize the life I had built.

And yet, every time I saw her, those convictions felt weaker. It was as if my emotions were battling with logic, and emotions were slowly winning.

When I found out she had passed out on the floor, I was panicked. Truly panicked—something I hadn't felt in years. My heart raced, my thoughts scattered as I tried to comprehend what had happened. Seeing her so helpless, so vulnerable, lying there unconscious—it felt like something broke inside me. In that moment, all I cared about was making sure she was okay, that she wasn't in danger. The professional distance I had maintained shattered.

It was only after that I learned she was pregnant. The news should have been the final nail in the coffin, the ultimate reason to back away. But instead, I found myself wanting to be closer. I couldn't stay away. I kept wanting to visit her in the hospital, to sit by her side, even though I knew I had no reason to. There was no logical explanation for why I felt so protective of her, but logic wasn't guiding me anymore. I was drawn to her, pulled by something deeper.

Maybe it was the way she carried herself, even when she was weak. There was a quiet strength in her that I couldn't help but admire. She didn't complain, didn't seek sympathy. She just kept moving forward, determined to take care of herself and the child she was carrying. And that determination only made me want to help her more. It wasn't just concern for a colleague—deep down, I knew that. This was personal.

I'd always prided myself on being able to separate my personal and professional life, to keep my emotions in check. But with Viola, it was different. She wasn't just a colleague anymore. She was someone I found myself thinking about constantly. I cared about her in a way that scared me—because it meant that I was vulnerable. And vulnerability was something I had sworn never to experience again.

Yet here I was, unable to stop myself from visiting her every day. Sometimes I'd just sit in the corner, working on my laptop while she rested, the soft sound of her breathing filling the room. Other times, I'd bring her little things—a bouquet of flowers, a book to keep her entertained. Each day, I found a new reason to be there, though I knew I didn't need one. The truth was, I simply wanted to be near her.

Even now, as I drove her home, I knew this wasn't just me being a good friend or a supportive boss. This was me trying to figure out my place in her life, trying to understand why I cared so much about a woman who, just a few months ago, had been a mere professional acquaintance.

Adam.

His name hung in the air between us, though it was unspoken. I knew he was a part of her past—a part of her heart, even now. I couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy every time I thought of him. She was determined to find him, to track him down, to give him the chance to be a father to her child. I respected that. But it didn't make the jealousy any easier to swallow.

I couldn't shake the feeling that she was chasing a ghost, that she was putting her faith in someone who might not deserve it. What if Adam wasn't who she remembered? What if he let her down? Could I just stand by and watch as she went through that heartbreak again?

No. I couldn't.

I wasn't going to let her go through this alone, even if it wasn't my place to say so. I may not have been the man she was looking for, but I could be the one she needed right now.

"Ms. Turner," I said softly, breaking the silence. She turned her head, her eyes meeting mine.

"I'll help you," I repeated, more for myself than for her. "But make sure you're strong enough first before going there. I'll even help you settle in if that's what you decide."

She smiled—soft, grateful. And just like that, my heart ached again. It was a simple smile, but it held so much. In that moment, I knew this wasn't just about helping a colleague. It wasn't even about offering out of kindness. It was because somewhere along the line, Viola Turner had become more than just a person I worked with. She had become someone I couldn't bear to see hurt.

Someone I wanted to protect.

Even if that meant stepping aside and letting her chase after another man.

For now, my focus would be on getting her through this. One step at a time.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd realize that the person who cared the most for her had been right beside her all along.