Evan didn't want to prove anything to anyone.
Not to Reza. Not to his father. Not to Ayla.
He just wanted to be himself.
Not the asshole Evan from 2017, known as the company owner's son who skipped work and coasted on his family name.
The Evan now was someone who had been through a lot, who understood responsibility, who knew how to work, who understood how the business game was played.
He stared at the numbers on his laptop screen, double-checking the calculations he had made. Everything was neat, detailed, and made sense. Nothing to doubt.
Reza might still be questioning this change. His father might think it's because of Ayla and Raka.
But no.
Evan was doing this because this is who he really is.
His true self.
Nadira's Frustration
That afternoon, Nadira sat in the office pantry, sipping her now-lukewarm green tea while reading the latest design proposal on her tablet. From time to time, she furrowed her brow, bit her lip, and tapped her fingernail on the table—her usual thinking habit.
Then, the pantry door opened. Evan walked in with a tired look, his tie loosened, shirt slightly wrinkled.
"Tired?" Nadira asked without looking up.
Evan grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, drank half, then sat across from her. "Exhausted. Felt like I just calculated the national budget."
Nadira finally looked up and chuckled. "That bad, huh?"
Evan shrugged. "What about you? You've been frowning all afternoon."
Nadira sighed. "One client wants a garden design that's 'elegant but still natural, luxurious but not over the top, modern with a traditional touch.' What does that even mean?"
Evan laughed. "Wants everything without the headache."
"Exactly!" Nadira dropped her head onto the table, frustrated. "I need to be a mind reader for this one."
Evan nudged her tablet. "I can help, but I charge a high consultation fee."
Nadira looked up, eyes narrowing. "How much?"
Evan grinned. "One iced coffee."
She sighed, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "You're so shameless," she muttered, grabbing her wallet.
Just as she turned to leave, Evan playfully tugged the end of her scarf.
Startled, Nadira looked back with wide eyes.
"You're really gonna buy it?" Evan raised a brow.
"Of course!" Nadira swatted his hand, flustered. "I'm not letting you have that over me!"
He chuckled and let go. "I'll be here."
She huffed but her cheeks were tinged pink. She didn't notice that the smile still lingered on her face as she walked out.
Nadira Comparing Reza and Evan
Nadira sat at her desk, occasionally glancing at the glass-walled meeting room. Inside, Evan was discussing with his team—his gestures relaxed yet assertive. He pointed at numbers on the projector screen, listened to feedback, then responded calmly.
Reza also worked hard. But to Nadira, he had always been the textbook professional. He did his job well, but that was it. No more, no less.
Evan, on the other hand…
He was the heir to the company, but he never acted like a pampered prince waiting to be served. He dived into the work himself, calculated tenders, argued over pricing, and worked solo at his desk—no secretary fetching him coffee.
She leaned back, biting her pen. The Evan she'd heard about—lazy, entitled, arrogant—was nothing like the one she saw now.
He wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone. He was just doing his job.
Down to earth.
Something warm stirred inside her. A small smile escaped.
Then she sighed. No, she couldn't let her mind wander there. Not when she was already committed to Reza.
Still, she couldn't stop the comparisons.
Ayla's Doubt
Ayla hesitated.
On one hand, Raka needed a father figure, and Evan—whether she liked it or not—was his biological father.
On the other hand, she still couldn't fully trust him. She remembered all the pain, even if Evan claimed not to remember anything.
If he had made this request months ago, she would've outright refused. But now… after seeing how Evan cared for Raka, tried to be a good father… a part of her heart softened.
Still, she wasn't one to give in easily.
"What's your plan?" she asked, scrutinizing him.
Evan shrugged. "I just want to spend time with him. Take him out, maybe to a bookstore? He likes reading, right?"
She paused. It was true—Raka loved books. He'd love to go.
"If I agree, I'll decide the time and place. I'm not giving you full access to my son," Ayla said at last.
Evan nodded. "Fair. I'll follow your rules."
It wasn't perfect, but it was enough—for now.
Raka's Request
Before Ayla could end the conversation, a small voice cut through.
"Mama, can I go with Uncle Evan?"
She turned to find Raka standing nearby, eyes wide with hope.
Evan smiled softly. There was always something bittersweet when Raka called her "Mama." Not because he disliked it, but because he wasn't part of that title. He was only the biological father. Ayla had raised Raka alone.
Ayla looked at her son, unreadable. Then, after a pause, she asked, "Where do you want to go?"
"Bookstore!" Raka beamed. "Uncle Evan said I could pick any book I like!"
Ayla sighed. Evan's sincerity and Raka's excitement made it hard to say no.
"Alright," she finally said. "But not too long, and don't go far."
Raka cheered, and Evan nodded gratefully.
"I promise I'll keep him safe," Evan said.
And this time, Ayla chose to believe him.
At the Bookstore
When Ayla arrived to pick Raka up, she found him reading by the cashier, a new book in his lap. Evan sat beside him, sipping coffee.
"Had fun?" she asked.
"Lots!" Raka grinned. "Uncle Evan showed me how to pick good books!"
Ayla nodded, extending her hand. "Let's go home."
Before they left, Evan stood. "Ayla, I need to talk to you."
She eyed him warily. "What is it?"
He reached into his pocket, looked her in the eye. "I want to help pay for Raka's school."
Her eyes narrowed. "No need."
"Ayla—"
"I said no, Evan." Her voice was cold but firm. "I already owe you too much. I'm not adding more."
He exhaled. "This isn't about debt. I just want to take responsibility."
She let out a bitter laugh. "Responsibility?" Her gaze turned sharp. "You didn't even remember you had a child, Evan. Don't talk to me about responsibility."
He fell silent. Her words cut deep, but he couldn't deny them.
Raka tugged at Ayla's hand. "Mama, let's go?"
She nodded, gave Evan one last look. "Thanks for today. But as for Raka… I can take care of him myself."
And without giving him a chance to respond, she walked away with their son.