CHAPTER 2: The Confrontation
The apartment was worse than he imagined.
Dim lighting. Peeling walls. A faint chill that lingered in the air.
Ethan stood frozen in the doorway as she faced him.
Her name escaped his lips like a confession.
“Lena…”
Her eyes filled with tears—but there was no warmth in them.
Only pain.
“You don’t get to say my name like that,” she said softly, her voice trembling but firm.
Ethan swallowed hard. “I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t look.”
That hit harder than anything.
Silence stretched between them.
Behind her, the toddler he had seen in the bakery peeked out, clutching a worn stuffed toy. Another baby—smaller, quieter—slept in a crib nearby.
Ethan’s heart shattered.
“They’re yours,” Lena said, her voice breaking now. “Both of them.”
“I would have come back,” Ethan insisted desperately. “I tried to find you—”
“No,” she cut in, shaking her head. “You chose your world. Your money. Your success.”
Each word was a knife.
“And I chose survival.”
Tears streamed down her face now.
“I begged for help, Ethan. I waited. But you never came.”
Ethan stepped forward, his voice cracking. “I’m here now. Please… let me fix this.”
Lena laughed bitterly.
“Fix this?” she repeated. “You think money fixes years of hunger? Of fear? Of raising two children alone?”
Ethan dropped to his knees.
Not as a businessman.
Not as a powerful man.
But as a broken one.
“I can’t change the past,” he said hoarsely. “But I will spend the rest of my life making it right—if you let me.”
May you like
The room fell silent.
Only the soft breathing of their children filled the space.
