Chapter Three

Six Years Later

The morning sun spills through the windows of the cozy little bookstore, casting golden light over rows of shelves filled with well-loved stories.

The soft chime of the bell above the door rings, signaling another customer. I glance up with a polite smile, but it quickly turns genuine when I see the familiar messy curls bounding toward me.

“Mommy!”

A small boy rushes through the store, weaving between shelves until he collides gently into my legs, his little arms wrapping around them tightly. I laugh, bending down to his level and smoothing a hand over his dark hair.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” I whisper, brushing a stray curl out of his face. “What’s all the excitement about?”

Ethan grins, his bright brown eyes—the same shade as Ryan’s, though I never admit it out loud—gleaming with pure joy. He clutches something small in his fist and waves it proudly in front of me.

“Mrs. Thompson gave me a gold star today!”

I blink, momentarily distracted by the way his smile lights up his whole face. It’s infectious.

“Wow, a gold star?” I tease, pretending to be surprised. “That’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you!”

His smile widens, revealing the slight gap where his front tooth had fallen out just last month. My heart squeezes at the sight. Ethan is my whole world. My reason for pushing forward when everything felt impossible.

Six years ago, when I left the city, I had nothing but a broken heart and a growing baby inside me. I was scared, lost, and unsure how I’d make it. But now… now I have a home. A simple, happy life. And most importantly—I have Ethan.

He tugs on my sleeve, breaking me from my thoughts. “Mommy, can we get ice cream after work?”

I pretend to consider it, tapping my chin dramatically. “Hmm, I don’t know… have you been good today?”

“Mommy!” he whines, pouting just enough to make me laugh.

“Alright, alright,” I give in, pulling him into a warm hug. “Ice cream it is.”

“Yay!” He cheers, then dashes off to the little reading corner at the back of the store. I watch him, warmth filling my chest.

I may have lost Ryan, but I gained something far greater. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

But I never knew something was about to change.

---

It starts with a phone call.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and reach for the phone behind the counter.

“Hello?”

“Emma, you won’t believe this.” Olivia’s voice crackles through the speaker.

I balance the phone between my shoulder and ear as I continue shelving a new shipment of books. “What is it, Liv?”

“I just got word—Ryan Carter is back in town.”

The stack of books in my hands slips from my grasp, tumbling to the floor with a thud. My heart clenches, a sharp sting shooting through my chest.

Ryan Carter.

The name I’ve spent six years trying to forget.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and crouch down to gather the fallen books with trembling hands.

“Emma? You there?” Olivia’s voice is softer now, concerned.

“I… I heard you,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

I thought I was past this. I thought I had buried that name deep enough that it wouldn’t hurt anymore. But hearing it now? It’s like tearing open an old wound that never fully healed.

“Are you okay?” Olivia asks gently, knowing me too well.

I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighs softly, and I can almost see the sympathetic look on her face through the phone. “Because he broke you, Em. And because I know you still have questions. You never got closure.”

Closure.

I let out a humorless laugh. What closure was there to be had? Ryan Carter didn’t just break me—he shattered me. Humiliated me. Abandoned me when I needed him the most. He left without a word, without an explanation, and without ever knowing that he had left more than just me behind.

“He’s a CEO now,” Olivia continues after a moment of silence. “Apparently, his company’s doing really well.”

Of course, it is. Ryan always had ambition. Even back then, when we were just two foolish kids in love, I knew he would go far. But none of that matters now.

“I don’t care,” I reply stiffly, trying to sound convincing.

Olivia hesitates. “That’s not all, Em.”

I frown, sensing her unease. “What is it?”

She takes a deep breath, as if bracing herself. “I heard he’s looking for someone.”

My heart skips a beat, dread curling in my stomach. “Who?”

There’s a beat of silence before she finally says, “You.”

I freeze, the phone pressed tightly against my ear.

Me?

“Why?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“I don’t know,” Olivia admits. “But it’s not a coincidence, Emma. He’s been back for barely a week, and already, people are saying he’s asking about you.”

I shake my head, panic rising in my chest. No. This can’t be happening. I built this life to escape him. To protect Ethan. I can’t let Ryan waltz back into my life like nothing ever happened.

I grip the counter to steady myself. “I have to go, Liv.”

“Emma, wait—”

I hang up before she can say anything else. My hands tremble as I place the phone down, my mind racing with a thousand questions.

Why now?

What does he want?

And most terrifying of all…

What happens when he finds out about Ethan?

“Mommy?”

Ethan’s small voice pulls me back to reality.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

I force a smile, bending down to scoop him into my arms. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” I whisper, holding him close.

But deep down, I know everything is about to change.

Ryan Carter is back.

And whether I’m ready or not, my past is coming for me.

Chapter Four

The soft chime of the café door rings as I step inside, holding Ethan’s small hand in mine. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries fills the air, and for a moment, the peaceful atmosphere calms the lingering tension in my chest from Olivia’s call yesterday.

“Mommy, can I have a chocolate croissant?” Ethan tugs on my sleeve, his bright eyes gleaming with excitement.

I smile, brushing a hand over his dark curls. “Of course, sweetheart. Go find us a table, and I’ll get it for you.”

He grins before rushing off to the corner booth, his favorite spot by the window. Sunlight streams through the glass, highlighting the softness of his features, so innocent and unaware of the storm quietly brewing in my mind. I turn toward the counter, reaching into my purse for my wallet, when suddenly—I feel it.

A presence.

It’s an odd sensation, one I haven’t experienced in years. My stomach twists into tight knots before I even lift my gaze. Somehow, I already know.

And when I do look up, the air leaves my lungs.

Ryan.

He’s standing a few feet away, frozen mid-step. His tall, powerful frame is clad in an expensive charcoal suit, the fabric tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and lean physique. His sharp jaw tenses, and his striking hazel eyes—ones I used to drown in—widen in disbelief.

My pulse races, each heartbeat a loud echo in my ears. For a moment, neither of us moves. The noise of the café fades into the background, replaced by the deafening silence stretching between us.

His gaze flickers over me, taking in every detail, as if trying to convince himself that I’m real. But then—his eyes shift.

To Ethan.

The shock already etched into his features turns into something else entirely.

Confusion. Realization. And something deeper—something raw.

I see it in the way his throat works as he swallows hard, the way his fingers clench at his sides like he’s holding himself back from charging forward. His breathing becomes shallow, as if the sight of the little boy who shares his eyes has knocked the wind out of him.

No. No, no, no.

I can’t do this.

Panic grips me, my fingers curling tightly around my purse. Without another thought, I turn on my heel and rush toward Ethan.

“Come on, sweetheart,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “We’re leaving.”

“But, Mommy—” he protests, looking up with a confused pout.

“Now,” I whisper urgently, forcing a small smile to mask the urgency in my tone.

Ethan’s bottom lip trembles slightly, but he obeys, sliding out of the booth. I scoop him into my arms, pressing his small body close to mine as I make a beeline for the exit, my heart hammering violently.

Behind me, I hear movement. A sharp intake of breath.

And then—

“Emma.”

Ryan’s voice.

Deep. Rough. Laced with something unreadable.

The sound is both a painful reminder and a sharp knife twisting in my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second before pushing forward, stepping out into the open street. The fresh air stings my lungs as I inhale sharply, willing myself to keep moving, to block out the voice that haunted my dreams for years.

“Mommy?” Ethan’s voice is soft, confused. “Who was that man?”

I can’t answer. Not now. Not when my hands are trembling and my vision is blurred by unshed tears. I tighten my hold on him and start walking faster, the clicking of my boots on the pavement matching the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat.

But then I hear it again.

“Emma! Wait!”

His voice is louder this time, closer.

No, no, no.

I don’t look back.

I can’t.

Because if I do, I might see the truth written all over his face.

And I’m not ready for that.

Not now.

Not ever.

—

Later that night, after tucking Ethan into bed and reading him his favorite bedtime story twice just to keep my mind occupied, I finally collapse onto the worn couch in the living room. My body is still tense, my heart still fragile from the unexpected encounter.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling shakily. I left the city for a reason. I built a life here, away from the memories, away from him.

But now, Ryan is back.

And worse—he’s seen Ethan.

My eyes flutter shut as the past comes rushing back like a relentless tide. The love we shared, the promises we made, and the devastation that followed. The humiliation of being discarded so easily. The pain of raising a child alone, always wondering why I wasn’t enough for him to stay.

I thought I had buried those memories. But today proved how easily they could resurface.

The soft buzz of my phone startles me from my thoughts. I reach for it, expecting Olivia’s name, but instead—

Unknown Number.

My heart stutters.

I hesitate for a moment before swiping to open the message.

Emma. Please. We need to talk.

I stare at the screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. A thousand things swirl in my mind, none of them coherent. Finally, I take a deep breath and type a single word.

No.

I hit send before I can second-guess myself and immediately block the number.

It’s better this way.

It has to be.