Eva’s phone buzzed as she was tidying up the last of her work. A small smile spread across her face when she saw Tristan’s message:

“Eva, are you done? It’s already 6. Don’t stress yourself.”

She chuckled quietly to herself and typed back, “No, brother, I’m fine. Just finishing up.”

Tristan’s response was quick. “Leave King’s Corp and join my company instead. You don’t need to stay there.”

Eva shook her head affectionately, fingers tapping her reply. “You know I love you, but I need to gain experience and be independent.”

She could almost feel Tristan’s frustration through his next text: “Fine. But I’m waiting for you outside. Come out now.”

Eva glanced at the unfinished files on her desk and sighed. “I can’t. I still have work to finish. Go home, Tristan.”

“Fine,” Tristan grumbled. “Go home safely and call me later.”

Eva giggled at his childishness. “Okay. Tomorrow’s the weekend—come see me.”

Her quiet laughter caught Andrew’s attention. He’d been returning from his meeting and noticed the soft smile on her face as she typed on her phone. His curiosity piqued—who could be making her smile like that?

By the time another hour had passed, Andrew returned to the office. The lights were dim, and the atmosphere had settled into the stillness of the night. When he opened the door, his gaze softened at the sight before him—Eva had fallen asleep at her desk, her head resting on a stack of papers.

Unconsciously, a rare smile tugged at Andrew’s lips. So stubborn, he thought with amusement.

Quietly, he walked over and, without a second thought, scooped her into his arms. Eva stirred slightly, but her exhaustion kept her from waking. For a brief moment, her sleepy eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of Andrew’s face as he carried her.

“Andrew… are we leaving now?” she mumbled, half-asleep.

Andrew looked down at her, his voice low and soothing. “Shh… You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you. You worked hard today—rest.”

Eva pouted slightly, her head nestling against his chest. “Whose fault is that?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

Andrew chuckled, a soft, rare sound. “Mine,” he admitted quietly, though he doubted she would remember.

They reached home, and the two ate dinner peacefully, an unusual calm settling between them. For once, there were no sharp words or cold stares, just the quiet hum of shared space.

After dinner, Eva retreated to her room, her thoughts swirling. She sat on her bed, her gaze falling on the small box her father had given her—the one she had placed on her desk but never opened.

Why is Andrew behaving like this? she wondered, her heart flickering with confusion. He was always cold, distant… but tonight felt different, like a glimpse of something hidden beneath the surface.

With a curious sigh, she finally decided to open the box. Just as she was lifting the lid, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called softly.

Andrew entered the room, his eyes catching on the box in her hands. “What’s that?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

Eva smiled faintly. “It’s from my father. I finally decided to open it.”

She shifted to make room, and Andrew sat beside her as she lifted the lid. Inside was a photo album, worn but lovingly preserved. Eva gasped softly, a bright smile lighting her face. Andrew was momentarily captivated by the joy in her expression—it was rare to see her so open, so unguarded.

“This is…” Eva whispered, gently flipping through the pages.

Andrew’s gaze fell on a wedding photo of a happy couple. “Are those your parents?” he asked, intrigued.

Eva nodded, her smile softening as tears welled in her eyes. “Yes… I wish they were still here with me.”

Andrew’s heart clenched at the sadness in her voice. He wasn’t used to comforting others, but something about Eva’s vulnerability stirred a protective instinct in him. “They’re always watching over you,” he murmured. “And you have your brother.”

Eva wiped her tears, her smile returning. “Yes. I have Tristan.”

At the mention of Tristan, Andrew’s expression darkened slightly. “I’m jealous of him,” he admitted, surprising even himself.

Eva blinked, taken aback. “Why?”

Andrew shrugged, a rare, playful glint in his eyes. “Because he gets to act so damn cute with you.”

A small laugh escaped Eva’s lips, the heaviness in her chest easing. They continued flipping through the album, reliving the memories captured in each photograph. Andrew traced a photo of Eva’s mother and smiled. “You got your beauty from your mom,” he said softly.

Eva’s cheeks flushed at the compliment. “Flattery won’t make me forget how much work you gave me,” she teased, nudging him playfully.

Andrew’s lips curled into a smile. “I just wanted to test your skills.”

As they sifted through more keepsakes, Eva came across a pile of old love letters tucked at the bottom of the box. Andrew’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are these from a boyfriend?” he asked, his voice edged with irritation.

Eva couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden shift in tone. “No. I’ve never read them—they’re from random admirers.”

Andrew’s jaw tightened. Without another word, he grabbed the letters from her hand and shoved them back into the box. “Don’t start reading them now,” he muttered possessively.

Eva found his jealousy oddly endearing. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she teased.

Andrew shot her a warning look, though there was no real anger behind it. “Don’t push it.”

As they continued looking through the album, Andrew paused at a photo of a little girl clinging to a man’s shirt—young Eva holding onto her father. He smiled, tracing the outline of her small hands. “You were cute and chubby. It makes me want to bite your cheeks.”

Eva’s eyes widened in shock. “What?!”

Andrew realized what he had said and tried to brush it off casually. “Just saying… I hope our baby looks like that.”

Eva’s heart nearly stopped. “What?” she squeaked, her cheeks burning.

Andrew cleared his throat, pretending to focus on another photo. “Nothing. I said nothing.”

They continued flipping through the album until the lighthearted mood shifted, replaced by a bittersweet nostalgia. Eva’s smile faded, and her hands stilled on the pages.

“Let’s stop now,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Andrew looked at her, noticing the tears pooling in her eyes again. “Why?” he asked gently.

Eva turned to him, her expression vulnerable. “Can I have a hug?”

Without hesitation, Andrew opened his arms. “Of course.”

Eva melted into his embrace, her tears falling freely as she buried her face in his chest. “I miss them so much,” she whispered through her sobs.

Andrew held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” he murmured. “I know.”

After a while, her breathing slowed, and she drifted off to sleep in his arms. Gently, Andrew carried her to the bed and tucked her under the blankets. He lingered for a moment, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her breath.

Before leaving, Andrew glanced at the album one last time. He plucked the photo of little Eva clinging to her father’s shirt and slipped it into his pocket.

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to Eva’s forehead. “Good night, baby,” he whispered, a rare warmth in his voice as he made his way to his room, the stolen photo safe in his hands.