For the next three days, Evan was mostly quiet.
He still woke up on time. Still put on his school uniform. Still sat at the dining table when breakfast was served. Yet every movement felt slow, as if his body were in the Mahardika family's mansion while his mind was still back in Maya's little house.
“Evan, don't you want any eggs?” Thomas asked on the first morning.
Evan shook his head.
“Bread?”
“No.”
“Juice?”
Evan shook his head again.
Thomas lowered the newspaper he hadn't really been reading. A full breakfast sat before him on the table. There were eggs, roast meat, fruit, and bread toasted to order. Evan hadn't touched a single thing.
“Is something wrong at school?”
“No.”
“Are your friends bothering you?”
“No.”
“Then why don't you want to eat?”
Evan stared at his plate.
“Because it doesn't taste like Maya's cooking.”
Thomas fell silent.
The head butler, standing not far away, immediately lowered his face and pretended to be busy checking the arrangement of the silverware.
Thomas looked at the eggs on Evan's plate. The meal had been prepared by the best chef he could afford. All this time, he'd believed that the best of everything was sure to make his son happy.
It turned out Evan wasn't looking for the best food.
He simply missed someone who used to sit beside him and blow on his hot soup so he wouldn't eat it too quickly.
“Just eat a little,” Thomas said.
Evan looked up.
“I'm not hungry.”
“Evan.”
“I said I'm not hungry!”
The boy shoved his chair back and ran out of the dining room.
Thomas didn't chase after him.
He simply sat there in silence, staring at the plate that had barely been touched.
On the second day, Evan refused to go to the playground he usually enjoyed. On the third day, he didn't even open the new gift Thomas had bought for him.
The toy box was left in front of his bedroom door.
“Open it, Evan,” Thomas said.
Evan sat on the edge of the bed, hugging his knees.
“I don't want to.”
“Didn't you used to want a toy car like this?”
“That was before.”
Thomas looked at the box.
“What do you want now?”
Evan gazed at the window.
“I want Maya.”
The answer was simple, but it felt like a blow to Thomas.
He had never imagined that a child could miss someone so deeply after only a few days. Worse, he knew he couldn't solve the problem with money, gifts, or orders.
That night, Thomas stood outside Evan's bedroom door.
The bedroom light was already off, but he knew his son wasn't asleep. From inside came the sound of muffled sobs.
Thomas raised his hand to knock.
But his hand stopped in midair.
In the past, whenever Evan cried, he always asked the nanny to handle it. He'd thought a child's needs could be left to someone else as long as all the expenses were covered.
Now, for the first time, he stood outside his son's bedroom without knowing what to say.
At last, he knocked softly.
“Evan?”
There was no answer.
Thomas opened the door a crack.
Evan had his back to him. In his hands was a crumpled piece of paper.
“What are you holding?”
“A picture.”
“What kind of picture?”
Evan didn't answer.
Thomas stepped closer. On the paper was a picture of a little house. In front of it stood three people drawn with stiff arms and oversized heads. Evan stood in the middle. On one side was Thomas himself. On the other was Maya.
Thomas stared at the picture for a long time.
“Why isn't Dad there?”
Evan bit his lip.
“Because Dad doesn't live in that house.”
Thomas lowered his head.
That sentence should have made him angry. He should have said that the house wasn't Evan's home, that Maya wasn't his family, that all of this was only temporary.
Yet not a single word came out.
Evan wiped his eyes.
“I already told Maya I'd come back.”
“She hasn't forgotten you.”
“How do you know?”
Thomas fell silent.
He didn't know. But strangely, he was certain Maya was waiting too.
Maybe it was because, for the past three days, he himself had kept remembering that woman's face. The way Maya stood protectively in front of Evan. The way she looked at him without fear. The way she refused to be treated as if she were after money, even though the accusation must have hurt her.
Thomas looked away.
“Tomorrow, we can invite her here.”
Evan turned around at once.
“Really?”
Thomas regretted saying it so quickly.
“I said we could consider it.”
“No. You said Maya could come.”
“To talk.”
“And I can see her?”
Thomas didn't answer.
Evan climbed down from the bed and stood in front of him.
“Are you afraid Maya will find out I'm not happy here?”
“Don't say things like that.”
“If you invite her, you have to let me see her.”
Thomas looked at his son. Evan's face was still pale, and his eyes were puffy. For the first time, Thomas realized that forbidding the meeting was no longer a form of protection.
It was simply selfishness.
He was afraid Maya would take Evan away from him.
Even though, from the beginning, he was the one who had made Evan feel like he had no one.
Thomas turned toward the door.
“Raka.”
His assistant immediately appeared in the hallway.
“Yes, sir?”
“Contact Maya.”
Evan held his breath.
Thomas looked at the open bedroom door, then said,
“Invite her to dinner tomorrow.”
Evan's face slowly brightened.
“Really?”
Thomas looked at him uncertainly. He didn't know whether this was the right decision. He still didn't fully trust Maya. He also wasn't ready to let someone into Evan's life—or his own.
Yet, seeing the small smile return to his son's face, Thomas knew one thing.
This time, he didn't want to be the reason Evan felt alone again.
Raka nodded and took out his phone.
“What if Ms. Maya refuses?”
Thomas was silent for a moment.
He remembered Maya's small laugh that night. A laugh born not of joy, but of a wound too deep to hide.
“If she refuses,” Thomas finally said, “don't pressure her.”
Evan looked at his father with hopeful eyes.
Thomas added,
“And don't use the Mahardika family name to pressure her.”
Raka looked slightly surprised. He had never heard Thomas give an order like that before.
“Yes, sir.”
After Raka left, Evan approached his father.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Thomas looked at the boy.
“Don't thank me yet. Maya may not come.”
Evan smiled faintly.
“She'll come.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because Maya keeps her promises.”
Thomas didn't answer.
Elsewhere, Maya was folding clothes when her phone rang.
An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.
She hesitated for a few seconds before answering.
“May I speak with Maya?”
“Yes.”
“This is Raka, Mr. Thomas's assistant.”
Maya immediately fell silent.
Raka continued politely,
“Mr. Thomas would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow at the Mahardika family home.”
Maya tightened her grip on the phone.
“What for?”
“He said he wants to talk about Evan.”
“And if I don't come?”
“That's all right. He instructed me not to force you.”
Maya was surprised. She had briefly thought the invitation was just another way for Thomas to interrogate her.
“Does Evan know?”
“He's the one waiting most anxiously for your answer.”
Maya closed her eyes.
She remembered Evan's face when he let go of her hand. She remembered the little promise the boy had whispered before leaving.
Don't forget your promise.
“All right,” Maya answered softly. “I'll come.”
At the Mahardika family mansion, Evan immediately hugged his father when he heard the news.
Thomas froze.
It had been so long since his son had hugged him without being asked.
His hand slowly rose, then touched Evan's back.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Yet beneath Thomas's still-calm expression, unease began to grow.
Tomorrow night, Maya would come to his home.
And Thomas didn't know whether he was opening the door to a woman who would heal his son's wounds—or to someone who would slowly change their entire lives.
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