Twelve
Ethan
An unrecognized number.
Usually, I’d let it go to voicemail, but it could be the new client I haven’t added to my contacts yet. I tap on the screen.
“Hello, this is Ethan Hartley.”
“Ethan, don’t hang up!” Sam’s voice is a little thin and crackly through the phone, almost like she is out of breath.
I blink.
“Are you there?” she asks.
“Ah, yeah, sorry,” I mumble, shaking my head a little, trying to clear the lingering fog of why she was calling me. “I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“I know, I know,” she rushes, her voice softening, “but I’m in a bind. I really need a favor, and honestly, I don’t know who else to ask.”
My brow furrows. “Okay... what can I do for you?”
“I can’t leave class right now, not for another hour at least, and my parents are still out of town until tomorrow night. Ebony isn’t answering her phone, and Lily is sick—”
“Wait,” I cut her off. “She’s still sick?” Worry and guilt tighten my chest. My mind flashes back to that night at her place.
“Yes. Listen, I was hoping you would be willing to pick up Ollie at daycare.”
My heart, which had started to beat a little faster with worry for Lily, slams to a halt.
Ollie.
Her son.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You... you want me to pick up her son at daycare?” I stammer, the words feeling foreign and heavy in my mouth.
There is a long silence on her end, then a quiet, “Yes.”
Pick up my ex-wife’s son. The one she had with another man. My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.
She sighs. “You know what? Never mind. I’m sorry, Ethan. I never should’ve asked you.”
Before I can string together a coherent response, the line goes dead.
“Damnit!” I mutter, slamming my hand on the desk. I immediately redial her number.
It rings once, twice, then a third time before she picks up.
“I can pick him up!” The words tumble over each other, no thought given to how crazy this is, or how much it’s going to screw with my head.
“You will?” She sounds like she expects me to change my mind any second.
“Yeah. Um... text me the address. And do they know who I am?” I ask, shutting down my computer and pushing myself up from the chair.
“I’ll call them right now and let them know. Ethan,” she says, her voice catching a little.
“Yeah?” I ask, grabbing my keys.
“Thank you. Really. By the time you drop him off, Maddy and Jake should be home, so you won’t have to stay long.”
I nod, knowing she can’t see me, and hang up.
Opening the door, I don’t even bother to shut it behind me properly. “Hold all my calls,” I bark at Hannah, who looks up from her desk, startled. “I’ll be back soon.”
I don’t wait for her reply and stride quickly to the elevator.
I pull up to the daycare, a modern brick-and-glass building that looks nothing like the quaint, tree-lined center our kids attended when they were younger.
I find a vacant spot in the designated parent parking area and lean back, taking a slow, deep breath. I drum a quiet rhythm on the steering wheel before I finally kill the ignition.
I head toward the front entrance and push open one of the heavy double doors, stepping into a brightly lit lobby. I am face-to-face with the front desk, where a woman with a perfectly blonde bob sits, a headset perched over one ear.
“Hello,” she chirps with a wide smile. “How can I help you today?”
I clear my throat, my tie feeling suddenly tight, and instinctively run a finger down the knot. “Hello. My name is Ethan Hartley, and I’m here to pick up Ollie Carter.”
She nods, her fingers dancing across her keyboard, her eyes flicking between the screen and me.
“Oh yes, Ollie! I’ll call Mrs. Robertson and have her bring him down.”
I offer a slight nod, taking a step back. My gaze drifts to the wall beside me, adorned with a vibrant mural of smiling zoo animals.
A few minutes later, the glass doors behind the receptionist’s desk slide open with a soft whoosh, and a woman emerges, holding Ollie’s hand.
Lily’s little boy. God, he looks so much like her it’s almost unsettling—the same bright, curious eyes, the slightly messy dark blond hair. A pang, sharp and unexpected, hits me in the chest.
“You must be Ethan. I’m Mrs. Robertson,” she says kindly, extending a hand to me.
“Nice to meet you,” I reply, accepting her handshake before pulling my hand back.
She glances down at Ollie, who is peeking up at me through his lashes, a nervous twist to his small mouth. “Ollie, sweetie, Ethan is going to take you home. Can you say hi?”
He shifts his weight, still looking at me with a mixture of shyness and curiosity, before offering a tiny, almost inaudible, “Hi, Ethan.”
I kneel slightly to his eye level and offer my own smile. “Hi, Ollie. Is it okay for me to take you home?”
He looks up at Mrs. Robertson, who gives him a warm, encouraging smile. He turns back to me and nods twice, a quick, decisive movement of his head.
“Tell your mom I said hi, Ollie, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mrs. Robertson says, letting go of his hand and guiding him closer to me.
His small hand immediately finds mine, his fingers surprisingly firm. He then turns and gives a small wave goodbye to Mrs. Robertson and the receptionist.
Together, we walk out of the building and make our way down the steps toward my car. I reach for the back door handle, then pause, my hand hovering.
No car seat.
“No car seat?” Ollie asks, his voice small but clear, echoing the exact thought in my head. I look down at him, and despite the sudden dilemma, a laugh bubbles up.
The kid is cute as hell. There was never any doubt in my mind that Lily would have beautiful children; her gentle features passed on so naturally.
Even knowing that one of them isn’t biologically mine.
That realization was once a bitter and corrosive thought I struggled to shake.
Yet, somehow, just minutes spent in Ollie’s company have eased the pain.
“Mr. Hartley!”
I turn to see Mrs. Robertson rushing toward us, her heels clicking on the pavement. A car seat is clutched awkwardly against her side.
Ollie and I meet her halfway.
“Sam mentioned you might not have one,” she pants, holding out the car seat. “We always keep a spare on hand, just in case.”
Taking the seat from her, I say, “Thank you. You are a lifesaver.”
After exchanging quick goodbyes, Ollie and I make our way back to my car. I open the back door and slide the car seat in, fumbling a little with the latch anchors until it finally clicks securely into place. Straightening up, I look down at Ollie.
“Alright, big guy,” I say, my smile mirroring his own. “Ready for takeoff?”
Ollie nods and launches himself into the back seat, tossing his backpack onto the seat beside him. I watch as he reaches for the seatbelt and, with a few practiced tugs and clicks, straps himself in.
“You’re a big boy, huh?” I say, genuinely impressed.
He beams, clearly proud of himself. I shut the door and climb into my own seat. I shoot a text message to Sam letting her know Ollie has been picked up.
Her response is immediate: a thumbs-up emoji, followed by a string of hearts, and then, “Thank you.”
The ride back to the house is met with a comfortable silence.
I peek in the rearview mirror occasionally to check on Ollie. His face is pressed against the window, his breath fogging the glass.
Our son Jake is one hundred percent me. And Maddy is a perfect blend of Lily and me.
But Ollie… Ollie is all Lily. Pure, sweet, and easy to love already.
My heart, which had been a heavy, aching weight of anger and regret for so long for my betrayal, feels lighter now.
It doesn’t feel like I’m sinking anymore.
I pull into Lily’s driveway and shut off the car. Turning in my seat, I ask Ollie, “Ready to see Momma?”
“Yep!” He fumbles with his seatbelt buckle. With a final click, he unbuckles himself and grabs his backpack.
Without wasting a moment, I hop out of my seat and walk around the car to Ollie’s side.
He climbs out, then reaches for my hand.
His small fingers wrap around mine, and the gesture sends a warm jolt through me.
An undeniable pull, a fatherly instinct to protect and cherish this child.
But with that surge of affection comes the bitter sting of my colossal failure that shattered my marriage to Lily.
Shaking the thoughts to the side for now and be there for Lily.
I close his door, and we walk side by side up to the front door. Just as we reach it, the door swings open, revealing Maddy, wearing her favorite “Just a girl who loves art” tee.
Ollie’s face lights up when he spots his sister. He lets go of my hand and runs to her. Maddy catches him easily, scooping him into a hug.
“Hey, Ollie. How was daycare?”
“Good,” he says. “Can I have a snack?”
Maddy chuckles softly, a sound so much like Lily’s. “Yes, you can. Go inside and wash your hands. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She sets him down and he pauses, looking back at me before heading inside.
“Thank you for picking me up,” he says with a smile. And then, without warning, he wraps his little arms around my leg.
My heart flutters as I look down at Ollie. There’s a lump in my throat, and for a moment, I can’t find the right words. I reach out and gently pat him on the back. “You’re welcome, little man,” I say softly.
He lets go of my leg and disappears inside. Maddy turns to me, her expression softening. “Dad, are you okay?”
I nod, a small, reassuring smile on my face. “Yeah, sweet pea. He’s a good kid.”
“He is. He’s all Mom,” she says, a warm smile touching her lips.
“That he is,” I admit, the words feeling surprisingly easy. “Speaking of your mom, how is she feeling?”
“She’s still asleep,” Maddy says, her smile faltering slightly.
“If you need anything at all, let me know,” I tell her. “I’ll see you and Jake at dinner tomorrow.”
“K. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too,” I reply, watching her retreat inside the house.