Chapter 5
Ethan’s sixth birthday was two weeks later.
Evelyn planned the party herself.
A hundred guests.
A polo theme, because she said it was “appropriate for a Hale heir.”
A caterer from New York.
A pony show.
A bounce house that cost more than my first car.
She spent a week yelling at the staff, rearranging flowers, changing the menu three times a day.
The only person who hated it more than me was Ethan.
“I don’t want a polo party,” he whispered to me at breakfast, three days before, picking at his pancakes. “I don’t even like horses. I want dinosaurs. And chocolate cake. And to watch The Land Before Time with just you and Daddy.”
I looked at Evelyn, who was yelling at the florist across the table, and made a decision.
That night, I snuck to the grocery store after everyone was asleep.
I bought dinosaur balloons.
Chocolate cake mix.
Frosting.
His favorite pepperoni pizza.
A copy of his favorite movie.
The day of the party, Evelyn was running around like a tornado, screaming at everyone in her path.
I took Ethan’s hand an hour before the guests were supposed to arrive.
“Come on,” I said. “I have a surprise.”
I took him up to the old treehouse in the backyard, the one no one had used since Clara died.
I’d spent all morning decorating it.
Balloons tied to the railings.
A homemade chocolate cake with green frosting and six candles, shaped like a T-Rex.
Pizza boxes stacked on the small table.
The movie ready to play on a portable projector I’d borrowed from the staff.
Ethan’s face lit up so bright it outshone the sun.
“For me?” he whispered, running around the treehouse, touching every balloon.
“All for you,” I said, grinning.
We ate pizza.
We sang happy birthday, off-key and loud.
He blew out all six candles in one breath, making a wish so secret he wouldn’t even tell me what it was.
We were halfway through the movie, him curled up in my lap covered in chocolate frosting, when we heard voices below.
“Where is he?” Evelyn, screaming, furious. “The guests will be here any minute! That little brat—”
“Evelyn, shut up.”
Daniel.
I looked down through the treehouse floorboards.
He was standing in the grass, tie loose, jacket off, looking up at us.
He’d seen the balloons.
He climbed the ladder, slow, and poked his head through the opening.
Ethan jumped up, running to him, frosting still on his cheek.
“Daddy! Look! Mama made me a dinosaur party! It’s the best birthday ever!”
Daniel looked at me.
At the cake.
At the balloons.
At his son, happier than I’d ever seen him.
A small, real smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The first one I’d ever seen.
“Looks like it,” he said, climbing all the way in, sitting down next to us. “Mind if I join?”
We watched the rest of the movie together.
Daniel ate three slices of cake.
Ethan fell asleep between us, his head on my shoulder, his feet in his dad’s lap.
When the movie ended, we sat there in the dark, the glow of the projector lighting up the treehouse.
“Clara hated big parties too,” Daniel said, quiet, not looking at me. “She grew up poor. Same as you. Said all this stuff”—he waved a hand at the mansion visible through the trees—“was just noise. That the only thing that mattered was the people you loved.”
He turned to look at me.
His face was soft in the dim light.
“Evelyn hated her for it,” he said. “Hated that she wasn’t one of them. Hated that I loved her more than anything. When Clara found out Evelyn was stealing from the foundation… I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just stressed, that she was being dramatic. Two days later, she was dead.”
His voice broke.
“I’ve spent three years hating myself for not listening.”
I reached out, covering his hand with mine.
His skin was warm.
Rough.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said, soft. “Evelyn is the one who did this. Not you.”
He turned his hand over, lacing his fingers through mine.
We were so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
He leaned in.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“DADDY!”
Ethan woke up, sitting straight up, rubbing his eyes.
We jumped apart, both of us blushing, like we’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Can we have more cake?” he asked, yawning, like nothing had happened.
Daniel laughed, a low, warm sound that made my stomach flip.
“Sure, buddy,” he said, standing up, lifting Ethan into his arms. “Let’s go get more cake.”
He looked back at me over his shoulder, his eyes dark and warm.
And I knew, with a flutter in my chest, that something had changed between us.
Something that had nothing to do with contracts.
May you like
Nothing to do with money.
Something real.
