CEO’s Secret Baby

CEO’s Secret Baby Chapter Two: The Truth Between Them Damian stared at Ethan as though the world had tilted beneath his feet. “No,” he said quietly. Ethan didn’t argue. Instead, he crouched beside the little boy. “Noah, buddy? Why don’t you keep coloring while I talk to Mr. Blackwood?” Noah nodded without looking up. “I’m almost done with my T-Rex.” “It looks amazing.” The child smiled proudly and returned to his drawing. Damian watched the exchange in silence. The warmth in Ethan’s voice stirred memories he had spent years burying—Sunday mornings in a tiny apartment, coffee brewing while Ethan sketched dragons on scrap paper, insisting every child deserved a hero in every story. He had once believed they would build that future together. Instead, they’d built separate lives. “Ethan.” His name came out almost as a whisper. “What do you mean he’s mine?” Ethan stood, folding his hands to keep them from shaking. “We should talk somewhere private.” Damian glanced toward Claire, who immediately understood. “Cancel everything for the rest of the afternoon.” “Everything?” “Everything.” Within minutes, they were seated in Damian’s office. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city below, but neither man looked outside. Noah sat on the rug near the bookshelf, happily arranging toy dinosaurs Damian’s assistant had somehow found in the executive lounge. Children adapted quickly. Adults didn’t. Damian faced Ethan. “Start at the beginning.” Ethan drew a slow breath. “Do you remember the fertility clinic?” Damian frowned. “The one we visited when we were talking about having children someday.” He remembered. They had spent hours speaking with doctors about options available to same-s*x couples. They were young, hopeful, and hopelessly in love. The clinic had explained embryo creation, surrogacy, adoption—every possibility. They hadn’t gone forward immediately, but they had taken the first steps, convinced they had all the time in the world. “I thought we’d never finished the process,” Damian said. “We almost didn’t.” Ethan lowered his eyes. “After your business trip to Singapore…you signed the final paperwork. You said you wanted us to have the choice when we were ready.” Pieces of memory returned. Forms. Signatures. Laughing over impossible baby names. Dreams that now felt like someone else’s life. “Then we broke up.” Ethan nodded. “The embryos had already been created.” Damian leaned back, stunned. “I didn’t know.” “I know.” Silence settled between them. Months after their breakup, Ethan’s older sister, Sofia, received devastating news. Aggressive heart disease had left her little time, and she worried constantly about the children she would leave behind. Ethan found himself thinking about the family he had once planned with Damian—not as a replacement for his grief, but as a promise that love could continue even after loss. Years later, after long conversations with doctors, counselors, and lawyers, he chose to become a parent through surrogacy using one of the embryos he and Damian had created together. “I tried to reach you,” Ethan said softly. “Your phone number had changed. Every email I sent bounced back.” Damian’s jaw tightened. “I never got them.” “I figured.” “No.” Damian stood abruptly. “I would’ve answered.” “I know that now.” Damian walked to the window, pressing one hand against the cool glass. “Why didn’t you keep trying?” “I did.” His voice cracked. “For months.” Damian closed his eyes. A dozen explanations raced through his mind. Corporate security filtering unknown emails. Changing assistants. A new phone. Lawyers handling everything after the breakup. None of it mattered. Six years. Six birthdays. Six Christmas mornings. Six years he could never get back. Behind them came a tiny voice. “Dad?” Both men turned. Noah looked uncertain. “Are you mad?” Ethan crossed the room immediately. “No, sweetheart.” “You look sad.” “I’m a little sad.” The boy considered this carefully before picking up his drawing. He walked over to Damian. “This is for you.” Damian accepted the page with trembling hands. A bright green dinosaur smiled beneath an enormous yellow sun. In careful, uneven letters, Noah had written: FOR THE NICE MAN. Damian swallowed hard. “It’s…it’s wonderful.” “I like drawing dinosaurs because they’re strong,” Noah explained. “They are.” “But my teacher says being kind is stronger.” Damian looked from the picture to the little boy. To Ethan. To the family that had almost been his all along. “I’d like to know you,” he said quietly. Noah grinned. “I can tell you all the dinosaur names.” For the first time in longer than Damian could remember, he laughed. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t controlled. It was real. And Ethan realized he had missed that laugh almost as much as the man himself.