The Billionaire's Son: Pregnant with My Ex's Baby

Chapter 10

[Ethan]

The familiar buzz of the upscale coffee shop washed over me as I sat at a secluded corner table, my fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the polished wood. The scent of freshly ground beans and warm pastries filled the air, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside me.

I checked my watch for the third time in as many minutes. Ava was late. Of course she was. Even after all these years, she still had the power to keep me waiting, to leave me on edge.

Just as I was contemplating ordering another espresso, the bell above the door chimed. And there she was.

Ava swept into the coffee shop like a breath of fresh air, all flowing golden hair and emerald eyes that could still knock the wind out of me. She was dressed casually in jeans and a soft blue sweater, but she might as well have been wearing couture for the effect she had on the room. Heads turned as she passed, men and women alike captivated by her effortless grace.

Our eyes met across the crowded space, and for a moment, I was transported back in time. Back to the day we first met, when she'd walked into my life and turned my world upside down. But then reality came crashing back, and I remembered why we were here.

Oliver. Our son. The child she'd kept from me for five long years.

"Ethan," Ava said softly as she approached the table. "I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was—"

"Sit down, Ava," I cut her off, my voice colder than I'd intended. "We need to talk."

A flicker of hurt passed through her eyes before she masked it with a calm indifference that only fueled my anger. She slid into the seat across from me, her posture rigid, ready for battle.

"What's this about, Ethan?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "I thought we were meeting for brunch tomorrow with Oliver."

I leaned forward, my hands clasped tightly on the table to keep from reaching for her. "We are. But I couldn't wait that long to have this conversation. Not with Oliver there."

Ava's eyes widened slightly, a hint of fear creeping into her expression. "What conversation?"

"The one where you explain to me," I said, my voice low and dangerous, "how you could keep my son from me for five f*****g years."

The color drained from Ava's face, but to her credit, she didn't flinch. "Ethan, I—"

"No," I growled, cutting her off again. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Ava. I want answers. Do you have any idea what you've taken from me? The first words, the first steps, the first day of school – moments I can never get back."

Ava's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. But she remained silent, which only served to stoke the fire of my anger.

"Did you hate me that much?" I pressed on, unable to stop now that the floodgates had opened. "Was keeping Oliver from me some sort of twisted revenge for whatever you thought I'd done?"

"It wasn't like that," Ava whispered, her voice barely audible over the ambient noise of the coffee shop.

"Then what was it like, Ava?" I demanded, my voice rising despite my efforts to keep it controlled. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you deliberately robbed me of the chance to be a father to my son."

Ava's eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and defiance. "You don't understand—"

"You're damn right I don't understand!" I slammed my hand on the table, causing our cups to rattle and nearby patrons to turn and stare. Lowering my voice, I continued, "Explain it to me, Ava. Make me understand how you could do this to me, to Oliver."

But Ava just shook her head, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. She seemed to curl in on herself, becoming smaller in her seat, as if trying to disappear altogether.

Her silence only fueled my frustration. "Say something, dammit! You owe me an explanation!"

"I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I just... I can't, Ethan."

I stared at her, incredulous. After everything she'd done, she couldn't even give me the courtesy of an explanation? The urge to shake her, to force the words out of her, was almost overwhelming.

But then I really looked at her. Saw the way her shoulders shook with silent sobs, the way she wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together. And despite my anger, despite the hurt and betrayal coursing through my veins, I felt a twinge of... something. Concern? Guilt?

No. I couldn't let myself feel sorry for her. Not after what she'd done.

"Fine," I said, my voice cold and detached. "If you won't talk to me, then I'll do the talking. I want joint custody of Oliver. Equal time, equal say in decisions about his life. And if you fight me on this, Ava, I swear to God I'll take you to court and sue for full custody."

Ava's head snapped up, her tear-stained face a mask of shock and fear. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," I growled, leaning in close. "You've had him to yourself for five years. It's my turn now."

For a long moment, we sat in tense silence, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hanging heavy between us. I could see the wheels turning in Ava's mind, could almost hear her formulating arguments, excuses, pleas.

But in the end, all she said was, "Please, Ethan. Don't do this."

Her quiet plea, so at odds with the fiery woman I'd once known, caught me off guard. For a split second, I wavered. The urge to reach out, to comfort her, to try and understand what had driven her to such drastic measures, was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

But then I remembered the years I'd lost, the milestones I'd missed, and my resolve hardened once more.

"I'm not doing anything, Ava," I said, my voice low and controlled. "You did this. You made this choice for both of us, for Oliver. Now we all have to live with the consequences."

I stood abruptly, tossing a few bills on the table to cover our untouched coffees. "I'll see you tomorrow for brunch. We can discuss the details of the custody arrangement then."

As I turned to leave, Ava's voice, small and broken, stopped me in my tracks.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm so, so sorry."

I stood frozen for a moment, my back to her, fighting the urge to turn around, to take her in my arms and tell her everything would be okay. But I couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Without another word, I walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Ava – and a piece of my heart – behind.

As the cool air hit my face, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. Anger, hurt, confusion, and underneath it all, a dangerous flicker of something that felt dangerously like longing.

Tomorrow's brunch loomed before me, filled with possibilities both thrilling and terrifying. How would Oliver react to me? Could Ava and I find a way to co-parent without tearing each other apart? And perhaps most frighteningly of all, could I trust myself to be around Ava without falling back into old patterns?

As I hailed a cab, my phone buzzed with a text from Zara: "How did it go?"

I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing out a response: "It's complicated. I'll fill you in later."

Complicated. That was putting it mildly. But as the cab pulled away from the curb, taking me back to my empty penthouse, I couldn't shake the image of Ava's tear-stained face from my mind.

What had I done? And more importantly, what was I going to do now?

The next morning, I found myself at a quaint bistro, seated across from Ava and next to Oliver. The boy was a perfect blend of us both, with my dark hair and Ava's striking green eyes. He chattered excitedly about his latest obsession – dinosaurs – while coloring on the kids' menu.

"And the T-Rex was the biggest carnivore ever!" Oliver exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

I couldn't help but smile, even as my heart ached for all the moments like this I'd missed. "That's incredible, buddy. What else do you know about dinosaurs?"

As Oliver launched into another enthusiastic explanation, I caught Ava's eye over his head. The tension between us was palpable, but we both managed to keep our expressions neutral for Oliver's sake.

When our food arrived, I seized the opportunity to broach the subject we'd been avoiding. "Hey, champ," I said to Oliver, "why don't you go check out that cool fish tank over there while your mom and I talk about some boring grown-up stuff?"

Oliver's face lit up. "Can I, Mom? Please?"

Ava hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright, but stay where we can see you, okay?"

As soon as Oliver was out of earshot, I turned to Ava, my voice low but firm. "Here's how this is going to work. I want joint physical custody, alternating weeks. We'll share legal custody, making decisions about Oliver's education, health, and welfare together."

Ava's face paled, but she remained silent as I continued.

"I want to be involved in every aspect of his life from now on. School events, doctor's appointments, extracurricular activities – everything. And we need to establish a holiday schedule that's fair to both of us."

"Ethan," Ava started, her voice trembling, "isn't this all a bit much? Oliver barely knows you—"

"And whose fault is that?" I snapped, then immediately regretted my tone. Lowering my voice again, I said, "Look, I'm trying to be reasonable here, Ava. But if you fight me on this, I will take it to court. And I promise you, my lawyers will make sure I get everything I'm asking for and more."

Tears welled up in Ava's eyes, but she blinked them back furiously. "You can't just waltz in and upend our entire lives like this, Ethan. Oliver has a routine, friends, a school he loves—"

"I'm not asking him to give any of that up," I interrupted. "But I am his father, Ava. I have rights, and I intend to exercise them. You've had him to yourself for five years. Now it's time to share."

Our heated discussion was interrupted by Oliver's return to the table. "Mom, Dad, can we get ice cream after this?"

The normalcy of his request, the casual way he called me 'Dad', hit me like a punch to the gut. I looked at Ava, seeing my own conflicted emotions mirrored in her eyes.

"Sure, buddy," I managed to say, forcing a smile. "Ice cream sounds great."

As Oliver happily returned to his coloring, Ava and I exchanged a loaded glance. This was just the beginning of what promised to be a long, difficult journey. But looking at our son, I knew it was a journey I had to take, no matter the cost.