Chapter Seven.
The morning light filtered weakly through the blinds, pale and cool, washing my apartment in shades of quiet gold. The city was already awake outside, the distant hum of cars and life seeping faintly through the glass. I'd been up early, too early, maybe, my mind refusing to rest since the night before. Tiffany's face kept replaying in my head: the way she looked at me when I told her goodnight, the way her voice softened just before she stepped out of the car.
I'd told myself I was only thinking about work, about the meeting scheduled for nine. But deep down, I knew that wasn't the reason.
I sat on the edge of the couch, coffee in one hand, tie still loose around my neck, staring absently at the muted TV. The morning news flickered across the screen, but I wasn't really watching. My phone buzzed on the table, jolting me back.
The name flashing across the screen made me pause.
Ethan.
For a moment, I just stared at it. The kid had a way of calling at the most unexpected times. The first time he called, it was out of nowhere,no particular reason, just a cheerful hello that somehow stuck in my mind for hours after. There was something about him that made it hard to ignore.
I picked up the phone. "Hey, champ."
The screen lit up with his face, bright and full of energy, his hair slightly messy like he'd just rolled out of bed. Behind him, I could hear the faint clatter of dishes and a woman's voice in the background,Tiffany.
"Hi, Mr. Carter!" he said, his grin spreading so wide it almost filled the screen. "Mum is getting ready for work and also to drop me off at school, but I wanted to say hi before she comes back."
I couldn't help but smile. "That's thoughtful of you."
He puffed his chest a little. "She says I should always greet people nicely. Even my boss's boss."
I laughed quietly. "Is that what I am to you? Your boss's boss?"
He giggled. "Kind of. But you don't look scary like other bosses."
"Good to know I don't," I said, leaning back in my chair. "So, how's school?"
"Okay, I guess. We have a new teacher. She talks a lot," he said with a playful groan. "And we have a football game next week. Mum said if I do well in my spelling test, she'll come watch."
"She will," I said automatically. "She's proud of you, you know."
He smiled, that soft, innocent kind of smile kids give when they believe the world still works fairly. "She always says that. But she works too much."
That made me pause. "Yeah," I said quietly, "she does."
He looked thoughtful for a second. "You work too much too, right?"
"Maybe," I said, amused. "Who told you that?"
He shrugged. "You just look like someone who stays late at work. Mum says people who do that think too much."
I chuckled. "Your mum says a lot of smart things."
"She's the smartest person I know," he said proudly, looking off to the side where I guessed Tiffany was probably moving around. "She always helps me with my homework, even when she's tired."
The warmth in his tone caught me off guard. For a moment, it wasn't just a casual conversation, it was like listening to an echo of something I'd lost and didn't even realize I missed.
I cleared my throat lightly. "She's lucky to have you, Ethan."
He grinned again. "That's what Grandpa says."
There was a small clatter from behind him, and Tiffany's voice came closer, faint but clear. "Ethan, are you done with your cereal?"
He turned quickly, cupping the phone so she couldn't see. "Uh oh, she's coming back."
I smiled at the small panic in his voice. "Go on, before you get caught."
He leaned closer to the camera, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Mr. Carter… can I ask something?"
"Sure, anything."
"Do you want to come play in the park with me later today? After school?"
That caught me completely off guard. "The park?"
He nodded eagerly. "Yes. The one near Mum's office. I go there sometimes when Grandpa picks me up. There's a big tree and swings and everything. You can come if you want. Maybe around four o'clock?"
I hesitated for a second. "Does your mum know about this plan?"
He looked around, then leaned even closer to the screen, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Please don't tell Mummy. She'll say I'm bothering you."
That made something twist quietly in my chest. "You're not bothering me, Ethan."
"Promise?" he asked, his small eyes bright with hope.
"Promise," I said softly.
His grin returned, wide and pure. "Okay! Then it's a secret. Just me and you, okay?"
"Okay," I said, unable to stop the faint smile tugging at my mouth.
He giggled, then turned quickly as Tiffany's voice called again, closer this time. "Coming, Mum!" he shouted, then whispered, "Bye, Mr. Carter! Don't forget, four o'clock!"
And before I could reply, the screen went black.
I sat there for a long moment, the faint echo of his excitement still ringing in my ears. The apartment was quiet again, too quiet.
I set the phone down slowly, staring at the faint reflection of myself in the dark glass. A part of me knew I should have said no. That seeing him like that secretly was crossing a line. But another part of me, the one that had longed for something I couldn't name, refused to listen.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck, but the smile still lingered.
Four o'clock.
And for the first time in a long while, the thought of the day ahead didn't feel entirely ordinary.
The screen went dark, but I didn't move. Ethan's voice still echoed faintly in my head, cheerful, bright, innocent in the kind of way only children could be. "Please don't tell Mummy," he'd said, his small face lighting up the screen with a smile that felt too familiar. I stared at my phone a little longer, half-expecting another call, but all I saw was my own reflection staring back,tired eyes, faint stubble, and that unreadable heaviness sitting somewhere behind them
The morning light pushed through the blinds, streaking across the floorboards and the coffee table where I'd left my unfinished mug. I leaned back against the couch, phone still in my hand, replaying the short conversation in my head. It wasn't the first time he'd called, but this one felt different. There was something in his tone today, excitement, maybe, or a quiet longing I couldn't place.
I rubbed my thumb over the edge of the phone. There were still moments when I tried convincing myself that keeping this... whatever it was... a secret was the right thing. Seeing him, talking to him, sharing small laughs, all behind Tiffany's back. It wasn't exactly noble. But each time he called, I couldn't bring myself to say no. I wasn't sure I even wanted to.
He had her eyes. That much I knew. The same soft brown, the same quiet intensity whenever he looked up at me, waiting for a response. Sometimes, when he smiled, it was like watching a memory flicker back to life,a cruel, beautiful reminder of what I'd lost.
I stood and moved toward the kitchen, pouring the rest of my coffee into the sink. It had gone cold, but I took a sip anyway, wincing at the bitter taste. The silence in the apartment pressed against me, too loud and too empty.
For six years, I'd built walls. Thick ones. Around my work, my relationships, my life. But lately, cracks had started to show, and they all led back to her. Tiffany. Or maybe they led to the boy with her smile. I wasn't sure anymore.
I set the mug aside and ran a hand through my hair, glancing at the clock on the wall. 7:42. I had just under an hour before I needed to leave for the office, yet time felt suspended. Everything around me,the sound of the ticking clock, the faint hum of the refrigerator, faded beneath the weight of thought.
Maybe I shouldn't have answered that first call weeks ago. Maybe I should have kept my distance the way I'd promised myself. But then again, maybe this was inevitable. Some things, no matter how hard you fight them, find their way back.
I walked back to my bedroom and started dressing for work,white shirt, grey slacks, the usual. My tie hung loosely around my neck as I stood in front of the mirror, watching the man I'd become. People saw me as composed, confident, and maybe even cold. But they didn't know how much effort that composure cost me every single day.
The truth was simpler. I was tired. Not the kind of tired sleep could fix, but the kind that sits in your chest and grows roots.
I slipped on my watch, straightened my collar, and tried not to think about how long it had been since I'd had breakfast with someone, since laughter had filled the air around me for no reason. Ethan's laughter earlier had stirred something deep. It sounded too much like the kind of peace I hadn't known in years.
My phone buzzed again, jolting me back. For a moment, I thought it might be him, another quick call, another burst of joy to fill the quiet. But it was just a reminder from my calendar: Meeting with Finance,10:00 AM.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to move. Work was easier. Work made sense. Work didn't ask questions I didn't want to answer.
I stepped outside. The air was cool, carrying that faint scent of rain even though the sky was clear. The drive to the office was quiet. I kept the radio off, preferring the hum of the engine to the chaos of morning talk shows. My thoughts were already loud enough.
Halfway through the drive, I stopped at a red light and caught sight of a mother and her son crossing the street. The boy clutched his backpack, swinging it carelessly as he hopped over puddles. She reached out instinctively, holding his hand to steady him. The small act shouldn't have affected me, but it did. I turned away and focused on the road again.
When I reached the building, the day had already begun in full swing. Cars pulled in, security guards greeted, and the front doors kept revolving with the rhythm of busy people and busy lives. The kind of rhythm I used to find comfort in.
I parked and stepped out, adjusting my tie as I walked toward the glass doors. The receptionist smiled politely. "Good morning, Mr. Carter."
I nodded back with a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Morning."
The elevator ride felt longer than usual. As it climbed floor by floor, the reflection of the city stretched behind me, tall, gleaming, indifferent. My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from my assistant reminding me of my afternoon call. I replied with a simple Noted.
When the elevator finally opened to my floor, the familiar scent of polished wood and faint perfume filled the air. Voices drifted down the hallway, muffled conversations, footsteps. I walked through, acknowledging a few greetings on my way to my office.
But then I saw her.
Through the glass wall at the far end of the corridor, Tiffany stood near her desk, flipping through a stack of files. Her hair was loosely pinned, a few strands falling around her face. She looked focused, unaware that I'd stopped for a second too long.
The sight shouldn't have done anything to me. But it did. Something soft, unwanted, uninvited,stirred inside.
I moved before anyone could notice, stepping into my office and closing the door behind me. The quiet felt heavier here. I dropped my briefcase onto the desk and sat down, pressing my palms together.
For a moment, I simply stared at the blank notepad in front of me. My schedule was packed, my inbox overflowing,yet my mind wasn't on any of it. It was on a boy's voice, bright and full of life, calling me before school. It was on the woman outside my office who didn't know how close her son and I had already grown.
I leaned back, eyes on the ceiling, exhaling softly.
Some mornings were easier than others.
Today wasn't one of them.
I picked up my pen, forcing myself into work mode. Numbers, reports, deals,they were familiar. Safe. But as the minutes passed, I couldn't shake the small, warm echo that still lingered in my chest.
Ethan's laugh.
His secret invitation.
And the feeling that, no matter how hard I tried, I was already too far gone.