Ghosts of the Past
It was a Tuesday evening when the knock came.
Daniel had just put Ethan to bed after a long day of patching delivery schedules and chasing down late payments. He was still in his shirt sleeves, collar undone, when the sound echoed through the quiet house.
He wasn't expecting anyone.
When he opened the door, his breath caught.
Rebecca stood there.
Her hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, her dress tailored and expensive—everything about her screamed comfort and luxury. The faint scent of her perfume drifted into the hallway, the same one that used to linger on his pillow years ago.
"Daniel," she said, her voice smooth as glass. "It's been a while."
His jaw tightened. "Not long enough."
She offered a small smile, but her eyes flicked past him into the house, as if searching for proof of what her absence had left behind. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd check in… on Ethan."
"He's asleep," Daniel said flatly. "If you want to see him, you can come back another time."
Rebecca sighed, shifting her designer handbag on her arm. "Still so cold. I didn't come to fight."
"You didn't come at all," Daniel shot back before he could stop himself. "Not for his birthday, not for his school play, not for him. And now suddenly you're… curious?"
Her smile faltered. For a moment, something flickered in her expression—regret, maybe, or just discomfort at being called out. "I made mistakes," she admitted. "But you've clearly moved on. I heard you've started some kind of… business?"
Daniel's gut tightened. So that's why she's really here.
"CrossLogix," he said carefully. "It's small, but it's growing."
Rebecca's lips curved into a knowing smirk. "Growing? Or struggling? Don't forget, I know you, Daniel. You dream big, but reality… it's never been your strength."
Her words landed like darts, sharp and intentional. Once, they would have crushed him. But tonight, though the sting was there, he felt something steadier inside—a quiet defiance.
"You left," he said, his voice low. "You don't get to come back and judge what I'm building."
Rebecca's eyes narrowed, just for a second. Then she softened her tone. "I'm not judging. I'm… concerned. For Ethan that's all. I don't want him caught in one of your failures."
Daniel's temper flared, but he held it. "He is not caught in anything. He is mine, Rebecca. And whether CrossLogix succeeds or not, he will never see me quit."
For the first time, Rebecca looked uncertain. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. Finally, she straightened her posture, smoothing her dress.
"Fine," she said coolly. "I'll arrange a proper visit soon. Goodnight, Daniel."
She turned and walked away, heels clicking against the pavement. Daniel closed the door slowly, his hands trembling—not from weakness, but from the storm she always seemed to bring with her.
He leaned against the door, exhaling.
Rebecca had left him once, but her shadow still knew how to slip back into his life, uninvited.
And though Daniel didn't know it yet, her reappearance was only the beginning. Because if she decided she wanted more than visits—if she decided she wanted custody—his fragile new world could shatter before it even began.
Upstairs, the Ethan slept soundly, unaware of the ghost that had returned.
Daniel pressed his palm against the old leather notebook on the table. "Not this time," he whispered. "I won't let her take anything else."