Isabella's Point of View
My phone rings at six in the morning. I know who it is before I look. Only one person would call me this early after last night.
"Hello, Isabella."
Ethan's voice sounds tired. Like he did not sleep. Good. I did not sleep either.
"What do you want?"
"We need to talk."
I look at Oliver sleeping in his little bed. His dark hair is messy. His face looks so peaceful. He does not know his world is about to change.
"We talked last night. You said everything you needed to say."
"No, I did not. Meet me for coffee. One hour."
"No."
"Isabella, please. We have to figure this out."
"There is nothing to figure out. Stay away from us."
I hung up the phone. My hands shake. Oliver opens his eyes.
"Mommy? Who was on the phone?"
"Nobody important, baby. Go back to sleep."
But Oliver sits up. He massages his eyes with his tiny fists. "I feel hungry."
Can we have pancakes?"
I smile at my sweet boy. "Of course we can."
We go to the kitchen. I make pancakes while Oliver sits at the table drawing pictures. He sketches a home featuring three individuals. A mother, a father, and a young son
"Who is that, Oliver?"
He points to the daddy figure. "That is my daddy. He lives far away but maybe he will come home someday."
My heart breaks. Oliver dreams about having a daddy. He draws pictures of families. He watches other children with their fathers in the park and wonders why his dad isn't present
I always express the same message to him
Daddy lives far away. But someday Oliver will understand that his daddy chose work over family. Choose money over love.
My phone rings again. Ethan.
I do not answer it.
It rings again.
And again.
Oliver gazes at me. "Mom, why aren't you picking up your phone?"
"Since certain individuals are unaware of when to cease calling."
The call ceases to ring
Then it buzzes with a text message.
"I know where you live. I am coming over."
My blood turns cold. He found our address already. Of course he did. Ethan Blackwell can find anyone. He possesses wealth and influence and followers who obey his commands
I look at Oliver eating his pancakes. Syrup is all over his face. He looks so happy. So safe in our little apartment.
"Oliver, "We will visit Mrs. Chen next door."
"Why is that?"
"Since Mommy has to go to a place."
I cannot let Ethan come here. This is our safe place. Our home. I will not let him ruin it.
I take Oliver to our neighbor. Mrs. Chen is old and kind. She watches Oliver sometimes when I have to work late.
"Can you watch Oliver for a little while? Something came up."
"Of course, dear. Is everything okay? You look upset."
"I am fine. Just some business to take care of."
I kiss Oliver goodbye. He holds me close.
"Are you going to return soon, Mommy?"
"Very soon, baby. Be good for Mrs. Chen."
I head downstairs and wait outside the structure. A black car halts in front of me after ten minutes. Ethan exits. He is wearing jeans and a white shirt.
He appears fatigued yet remains attractive
"Where is Oliver?"
"Safe. Away from you."
Ethan's jaw gets tight. "He is my son, Isabella. I have the right to meet him."
"You have no rights. You gave those up when you chose Veronica over me."
"I never chose Veronica. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Until you start believing your own fabrications."
We look at one another on the pavement. Individuals stroll by on their way to work. They view us as if we're insane individuals brawling in the street.
"Hop in the car," Ethan says
"We will talk somewhere private."
"I am not going anywhere with you."
"Fine. We will talk here. Let everyone listen."
He raises his voice. A woman walking her dog stops to look at us.
"You want to make a scene? Go ahead. But I am not getting in that car."
Ethan looks around. More people are watching now. He gets back in the car and drives away.
I think he is gone. But five minutes later he comes back.This time he parks and exits once more.
"On the corner, there is a café."
. Public place. Lots of people around. You will be safe."
"I am already safe. From you."
"Isabella, please. Just one conversation. Then I will leave you alone."
I know he is lying. Ethan never leaves anything alone when he wants it. But I am curious. What does he think he can say that will change anything?
"Thirty minutes. Then you leave us alone forever."
"Fine."
We walked to the coffee shop. Ethan orders coffee for both of us. He remembers how I like it. Light cream, two sugars. Little things he would perform when we were joyful.
We sat at a table by the window.
Some individuals consume coffee while perusing newspapers
Normal people living normal lives. Not like us.
"Tell me about him," Ethan says.
"No."
"Isabella, he is my son too."
"Being a father is more than making a baby, Ethan. It is getting up at night when he has bad dreams. It is holding him when he is sick. It is working two jobs to buy him shoes when his feet grow too fast."
"I would have done those things."
"No, you would not. You never even came home for dinner when we were married."
Ethan looks down at his coffee. "I was building the company. For us. For our future."
"You were building it for you. For your ego. For your need to be the best at everything."
"That is not true."
"Then where were you the night I made your favorite dinner and waited until midnight for you to come home?"
Ethan is quiet.
"Where were you when I phoned and said I was frightened because someone was attempting to enter our apartment?"
Still quiet.
"Where were you when I begged you to take one day off so we could go away together?"
"I was working."
"You were always working."
The words linger in the space separating us
True words that hurt because they cannot be changed.
"I would be different now," Ethan says. "If I knew about Oliver."
"But you do not get to know about Oliver. Because you made your choice three years ago."
"What choice? You never gave me a choice. You just left."
"I gave you a million choices. Every time I asked you to come home early. Every time I asked you to put me first. Every time I tried to tell you I felt alone in our marriage."
"You never said you felt alone."
I laugh but it sounds bitter. "I said it every day. With my eyes. With my voice. By the way I stopped trying to compete with your phone and your computer and your meetings."
Ethan reaches across the table. He tries to take my hand. I pulled it away.
"Isabella, I am sorry."
"Sorry, do not give Oliver a father for the first three years of his life."
"Then let me be his father now."
"Why? So you can ignore him like you ignored me? So you can make him wait for you to come home while you work late every night?"
"I told you, I would be different."
"People do not change, Ethan. Not really."
"You did. You are stronger now. Braver."
"I transformed because it was necessary." "Due to having a baby who required my strength."
Ethan sips his coffee. His hands shake a little. "What kind of person is he?"
I prefer not to respond. Yet something in his tone makes me tender.
"He is smart. He asks questions about everything. He loves books, dinosaurs and ice cream."
Ethan smiles. "Like you. You always loved books."
"Like both of us. He has your stubborn streak."
"And your kind heart?"
I look away. "He is the greatest decision I ever made."
"Then allow me to meet him."
. Let me see the best thing we ever made together."
The words hit me hard. We. Like we are still a team. Like we are still married. Like the last three years never happened.
"No."
"Isabella—"
"No. I will not let you break his heart like you broke mine."
Ethan's face changes. Agony shines in his emerald gaze. "I had no intention of hurting your heart."
"But you did. You broke it so badly I thought I would never be whole again."
"Are you? Whole again?"
I think about the question. Am I whole? Or am I just good at pretending?
"I am whole enough."
"That is not the same thing."
"It is enough for me."
We sit in silence. The coffee shop fills with more people. Business people getting coffee before work. Mothers with strollers. Everyday life continues around us as we remain in the fragments of our shattered history.
"I've engaged a lawyer," Ethan states softly
The words hit me like ice water. "What?"
"I want custody. Joint custody."
"You cannot be serious."
"I am very serious. Oliver is my child. "I desire to be a part of his life."
I get up so quickly that my chair tips over. Others observe us
"You will never get him. Never."
"We will see about that."
"I am a good mother. Any judge will see that."
"And I am his father. With resources to give him things you never could."
His words resemble sharp blades piercing my heart
He is right. He has money. Power. Lawyers. I have love and barely enough money to pay rent.
"You think money makes you a good father?"
"I think Oliver deserves to know his father."
"Oliver merits a father who won't leave him when work becomes hectic."
I take my handbag and head to the entrance. Ethan is trailing behind me.
"Isabella, hold on."
"Keep your distance from us."
"I am unable to do that."
"Absolutely, you can."
You stayed away for three years without even trying to find me."
"Because I thought you left because you did not love me anymore."
I stop walking. I turn to look at him.
"I left because my affection for you was overwhelming." "I cherished you profoundly, and it hurt to witness you placing everything before me."
Ethan moves nearer. "Why didn't you inform me that you were expecting?"
"Because I feared you might remain with me out of obligation."
Not love."
"And now?"
"Now I know you would have left anyway. When the baby cried too much. When I got tired and cranky. When being a father got hard."
"You do not know that."
"Yes, I do. Because you left me when being a husband got hard."
I start walking again. Ethan grabs my arm.
"Do not touch me."
"Isabella, please. Let me prove I can be a good father."
"You had your chance to prove you could be a good husband. You failed."
I pull my arm away and keep walking. Behind me, I hear Ethan say something that makes my blood freeze.
"My lawyer is filing the papers today. You will be served by tomorrow."
I stop. I do not turn around.
"If you do this, I will never forgive you."
"Should you proceed with this, I will never pardon you."
"I
f I fail to do this, I will never be able to forgive myself."
I leave without glancing back
But I hear his last words following me down the street.
"I am not giving up on my son, Isabella. And I am not giving up on us."