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The moment Evans spoke those vows to his newborn daughter, the heavy, anxious tension in the hallway completely shattered, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pure joy.
Terry practically lifted Janet off the floor, squeezing her in a massive, excited bear hug.
Next to them, Michael and Emma threw their arms around each other, jumping slightly and cheering for the new father.
"Congratulations, Evans!" Emma beamed, her eyes sparkling with happy tears.
"Keep it down!" a sharp, highly irritated voice snapped.
The group froze.
A second, much older, and incredibly grumpy nurse had marched out of the double doors.
She glared at them over her glasses. "This is a maternity ward, not a football stadium! There are mothers trying to sleep! Shut your mouths!"
"Sorry, ma'am," Terry whispered, quickly setting Janet back down.
Evans, completely ignoring the scolding, reluctantly and gently handed the baby back to the first, kinder nurse.
As soon as his daughter left his arms, the adrenaline completely left Evans's body.
His knees buckled. He covered his face with his hands, crying so hard that his shoulders shook violently, entirely unable to stand up straight.
Michael immediately stepped forward, catching his manager by the shoulders and pulling him into a hard, anchoring hug.
"I've got you," Michael murmured, patting his back. He looked at Evans's tear-streaked, red face. "Alright, come outside. Get some air. Nobody needs to see you ugly-crying like this in the hallway."
Evans just nodded, letting Michael lead him away down the corridor toward the hospital's outdoor terrace.
Terry clapped his hands together quietly. "Right. I am going to go find the front desk and see if there are any hospital formalities or paperwork to be done. You ladies stay here."
This left Janet and Emma alone in the quiet waiting area.
Both women were still wiping stray tears from their eyes, thoroughly moved by the beautiful moment.
Suddenly, Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out and saw her father's name on the screen.
She quickly swiped to answer.
"Hello?"
"Emma, where are you?" her dad's voice came through the speaker, laced with heavy concern. "It's getting late. Are you okay?"
"Dad, I'm totally fine, I'm just at the-"
Emma started to explain, but Janet gently reached out, her palm open.
"Do you mind?" Janet asked softly, a warm, reassuring smile on her face.
Emma, a little nervous but trusting the older woman, handed the phone over.
Janet placed the phone to her ear. "Hello, Mr. Myers. This is Janet Owen, Michael's mother. I hope I'm not overstepping."
There was a brief pause on the line. "Oh! Mrs. Owen. It is a pleasure to speak with you. I was just checking on my daughter."
"It is a pleasure to speak with you as well," Janet said amicably, her voice the picture of grace and authority. "I completely understand your concern. I just wanted to assure you personally that Emma is right here with us at the hospital. Michael's manager just had his baby. Emma is perfectly safe, and we consider her security to be our absolute responsibility tonight. We will make sure she gets home securely."
"Oh, I see,"* her dad's voice softened, clearly relieved by Janet's polite but firm reassurance.
"Congratulations to the manager. Thank you, Mrs. Owen. I appreciate you taking the time to tell me."
"Not at all. Here is Emma," Janet said, passing the phone back.
"Dad?" Emma asked.
"Alright, sweetheart," her dad said, his tone much lighter. "Just don't be out too late, okay? Call me when you are near the house."
"I will. Bye, Dad." Emma hung up the phone and looked at Michael's mother. "Thank you, Mrs. Owen."
"Please, call me Janet," she smiled broadly, patting the empty seat next to her on the waiting room sofa. "Now, come sit down with me. Since the boys are gone, I think it's the perfect time to tell you some highly embarrassing stories about Michael when he was young."
Emma's eyes lit up instantly. She readily agreed, practically leaping onto the sofa next to Janet. "I want to hear absolutely everything."
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Out on the chilly hospital terrace, the night air was crisp.
Michael reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out two expensive mini cigars.
He handed one to Evans, who took it with a shaky hand, and then Michael pulled out a sleek silver lighter. He lit Evans's cigar, then his own.
They tapped the ends of their mini cigars together in a silent, makeshift 'cheers'.
For a long minute, they just stood there, blowing smoke into the dark sky, the silence thick and slightly awkward.
"So," Michael finally said, leaning against the railing. "You're a dad."
"Yeah," Evans exhaled a plume of smoke, staring blankly at the city lights. "I'm a dad."
"Crazy."
"Fucking terrifying," Evans corrected.
"She looks like Mandy. Thank God," Michael joked dryly.
Evans let out a wet, raspy chuckle. "Yeah. Thank God."
In his mind, Evans's thoughts were racing. "Diapers, formula, schooling, a bigger house."
He briefly thought about asking Michael for a raise. With a baby now, expenses were going to skyrocket. But he immediately bit the inside of his cheek, stopping himself.
"No. I can't ask that. Michael already pays me a massive commission. I'm making more than most executives in Hollywood. It would be greedy to ask for more."
They fell back into an awkward silence, the only sound the distant hum of traffic.
Then, completely out of nowhere, Michael spoke up, his voice casual. "By the way. Have the 'legal department' draw up a new contract tomorrow. Increase your cut to thirty percent."
Evans froze.
The cigar slipped slightly between his fingers.
He slowly turned his head to look at Michael, utterly bewildered. "What? Boss, thirty percent is unheard of. I'm already making a fortune off you. Why?"
Michael didn't look at him.
He just kept looking out over the city, the red ember of his cigar glowing in the dark.
"Because you aren't just my manager anymore, Evans," Michael said quietly, his tone holding a deep, unshakable sincerity. "You are family. And that little girl in there... she is my niece. She is going to live her life with absolute privilege. She will never have to worry about a single thing in this world as long as I am breathing."
Evans's breath hitched.
The tears that he had just managed to stop came rushing back with tenfold intensity.
The sheer loyalty and love in Michael's words completely broke his composure.
Without thinking, Evans threw the lit, expensive mini cigar onto the concrete floor.
e lunged forward, throwing his arms around Michael and hugging him with crushing, desperate force.
"Hey!" Michael frowned, caught off guard. "That was a very expensive cigar, Evans!"
"Shut up, asshole," Evans sobbed into Michael's shoulder, holding on for dear life.
Michael sighed, the brief annoyance fading instantly. A soft smile touched his lips.
He raised his arms and hugged Evans back tightly, holding him not like an employee, but exactly like his own older brother.