Chapter 11
1358 Words
[Ava]
The morning rush hour traffic crawled along at a snail's pace, but for once, I was grateful for the delay. It gave me more time with Oliver, more precious moments before I had to face the day ahead – and the possibility of running into Ethan.
"Mommy, can we have pizza for dinner tonight?" Oliver's voice piped up from the backseat, pulling me from my brooding thoughts.
I glanced at him in the rearview mirror, my heart swelling with love at the sight of his hopeful expression. "We'll see, sweetheart. Don't you have soccer practice after school today?"
Oliver's face fell for a moment before brightening again. "Oh yeah! Can Daddy come watch?"
The innocent question sent a jolt through my system. It had been two weeks since the disastrous brunch where Ethan had laid out his demands for joint custody. Two weeks of tense negotiations, heated phone calls, and sleepless nights spent worrying about the future.
"I'm not sure, baby," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "Your daddy is very busy with work. But maybe we can ask him about coming to your game this weekend?"
Oliver nodded enthusiastically, seemingly satisfied with this answer. As we pulled up to the school drop-off line, I steeled myself for the usual chaos of parents and children saying their goodbyes.
What I wasn't prepared for was the sight of Ethan Blackwood, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored suit, leaning against his sleek black Audi with a casual grace that made my heart skip a beat.
"Daddy!" Oliver cried out, his face lighting up as he spotted Ethan.
I felt the color drain from my face as Ethan approached our car, his expression a careful mask of neutrality. "Good morning, Oliver," he said, his deep voice sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. "I thought I'd surprise you and walk you to class today. Is that okay?"
Oliver was already unbuckling his seatbelt, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! Can he, Mommy? Please?"
I forced a smile, even as my stomach tied itself in knots. "Of course, sweetheart. Have a great day at school, okay? I love you."
"Love you too, Mommy!" Oliver called out as he scrambled out of the car, immediately latching onto Ethan's hand.
As I watched them walk away, Ethan's tall frame bent slightly to listen to Oliver's animated chatter, I felt a confusing mix of emotions wash over me. Joy at seeing Oliver so happy. Guilt for having kept them apart for so long. And underneath it all, a dangerous flicker of longing for the family we could have been.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed Ethan's return to the car. He tapped on the passenger side window, his expression unreadable. "We need to talk, Ava. Now."
With a resigned sigh, I unlocked the door, watching warily as Ethan folded his imposing frame into the seat beside me. The car suddenly felt too small, his presence overwhelming my senses.
"What are you doing here, Ethan?" I asked, proud of how steady my voice sounded despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside me.
Ethan's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "I'm being a father to my son. Something you've denied me for far too long."
The accusation stung, reigniting the anger I'd been trying to suppress. "I've already agreed to joint custody, Ethan. What more do you want from me?"
"What I want," he growled, turning to face me fully, "is for you to stop acting like I'm some kind of intruder in Oliver's life. He's my son too, Ava. I have a right to be there for him, to pick him up from school, to attend his soccer practices."
I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white. "And you will be. We have a custody agreement—"
"An agreement that you're barely adhering to," Ethan cut me off. "You 'forget' to tell me about his activities, you schedule things during my time with him. It's like you're still trying to keep us apart."
The truth of his words hit me like a physical blow. Had I been doing that? Subconsciously trying to maintain the separate lives we'd had for so long?
"I'm not..." I started, then stopped, taking a deep breath. "I'm trying, Ethan. This isn't easy for me either."
For a moment, Ethan's hard expression softened, a glimpse of the man I'd once loved shining through. "I know it's not easy, Ava. But we have to figure this out. For Oliver's sake."
I nodded, feeling the fight drain out of me. "You're right. I... I'm sorry. I'll do better."
Ethan studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. "Why did you do it, Ava? Why did you keep him from me for so long?"
The question, asked so softly, caught me off guard. I looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. "I thought I was protecting him," I whispered. "Protecting myself."
"From what?" Ethan pressed, his voice a mixture of frustration and genuine curiosity.
I closed my eyes, memories of our last days together flooding back. The loneliness, the suspicion, the heartbreak. "From being hurt again. From watching you walk away from us like you walked away from me."
Ethan's sharp intake of breath was the only indication that my words had hit their mark. When he spoke again, his voice was low and dangerous. "I never walked away from you, Ava. You're the one who left. You're the one who took my son and disappeared without a word."
I whirled to face him, anger flaring hot and bright. "Because I thought you were cheating on me! The late nights, the secretive phone calls, the lipstick on your collar – what was I supposed to think?"
"You were supposed to trust me!" Ethan roared, his composure finally cracking. "To talk to me, to give me a chance to explain!"
We glared at each other, chests heaving, years of hurt and misunderstandings hanging heavy between us. And then, without warning, the atmosphere in the car shifted. The anger in Ethan's eyes morphed into something else, something heated and hungry that made my breath catch in my throat.
For a moment, I thought he might kiss me. Part of me – a traitorous, reckless part – wanted him to.
But then the spell was broken by the shrill ring of Ethan's phone. He answered it curtly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Blackwood. ... Yes, I'll be there in twenty minutes."
As he hung up, I saw the walls come back up, his expression once again a mask of cool indifference. "I have to go," he said, his voice clipped. "But this conversation isn't over, Ava. We need to figure out how to make this co-parenting thing work."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As Ethan climbed out of the car, he paused, one hand on the door. "Oliver mentioned a soccer game this weekend. Text me the details. I'll be there."
And then he was gone, striding away with that confident gait that had always made heads turn. I watched him go, my emotions a tangled mess of anger, confusion, and an unwelcome spark of desire.
As I pulled away from the curb, heading towards my office, I couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between us. The careful distance we'd been maintaining was crumbling, forced into closeness by our shared love for Oliver.
But could we find a way to co-parent without reopening old wounds? Could we build a new kind of relationship, one based on mutual respect and the best interests of our son?
Or were we doomed to keep circling each other, caught in a dance of attraction and resentment that threatened to consume us both?
As I parked my car and headed into work, I realized I didn't have the answers. All I knew was that for Oliver's sake – and maybe, just maybe, for my own – I had to find a way to make this work.
Even if it meant facing the feelings for Ethan that I'd thought long buried.
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