Chapter 5
Ethan leaned over the bassinet-style curve of the hospital bed, his breath hitching in his throat as the harsh fluorescent lights illuminated the baby’s face. The infant was impossibly small, its skin flushed a healthy, rosy pink, covered in the faint, delicate remnants of newborn downy hair. But it wasn’t the size or the fragile nature of the child that froze Ethan in his tracks. It was the precise, undeniable geometry of the infant's features. The small, distinct cleft in the chin—an exact genetic replica of the one Ethan had inherited from his father. The shape of the brow, the slope of the nose, and the tiny, curled fingers that mirrored the very hands Ethan was currently hiding in his pockets. There was no DNA test required. The universe had stamped Ethan’s identity onto this fragile human life with terrifying, absolute precision.
"Now do you believe me?" Sarah asked quietly, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper as she watched the color completely drain from Ethan’s face.
Ethan staggered backward, his hip bumping against the injection tray and sending a small plastic cup clattering onto the linoleum floor. He didn't hear it fall. His mind was spinning backward through the timeline of the past year, desperately recalculating every weekend, every business trip, every quiet night in the city apartment they had shared before their temporary separation.
"Nine months ago," Ethan muttered, his voice hollow and detached as the calendar dates locked into place in his mind. "The weekend of our anniversary... before we announced the pause in our relationship."
"You didn't want a child then, Ethan," Sarah said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that she stubbornly refused to let fall. "You said your career was launching, that our lives were too unstable, that we needed to focus on building our independent foundations before even discussing a family. So when I found out a week later, I packed my bags, moved across the state, and accepted that I was going to raise him entirely on my own. I never planned on calling you today. But when my water broke this morning... something inside me snapped. I couldn't let him grow up with a ghost for a father."
Ethan buried his face in his shaking hands, the reality of the situation pressing down on him with crushing weight. He thought of Clara, sitting in the church right now, surrounded by family, waiting for a man who had abandoned her at the altar for a secret child she didn't even know existed. He thought of the forty-thousand-dollar deposit, the ruined dresses, the public humiliation, and the shattered trust that could never be repaired.
"Clara..." Ethan choked out, his voice thick with a suffocating wave of guilt. "What am I supposed to tell Clara?"
Sarah’s expression hardened slightly, her maternal instincts surging forward to protect the fragile life in her arms.
"That is your cross to bear, Ethan," Sarah said coldly. "You built a life based on convenient omissions and cowardice. Now you have to face the consequences."
May you like
Before Ethan could formulate a reply, the heavy metal door of Room 412 swung violently inward, and a frantic, breathless voice echoed across the room.
"Ethan Vance! What the hell do you think you are doing?" Michael shouted, standing in the doorway with his tuxedo tie undone and his face red with panic.
