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Chapter 420
Madison
I stepped into the hallway, my thumb hovering over the screen. Answer it. Don’t answer it. Throw the phone out the window and change your identity.
I swiped to accept before I could chicken out. “Hello?”
“Madison. Good morning.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “Alexander.”
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“About what?”
“The amusement park. I mentioned it last night.” He paused. “I’d like to take you and Ethan. Today, if possible. Tomorrow, if you need time to prepare.”
The amusement park. Right. He’d mentioned that at the party.
“I don’t know—”
“Before you say no, hear me out.” His words came faster, like he was worried I’d hang up. “Ethan would love it. Kids his age, rides, games. It would be good for him. And it would give us time together. All three of us.”
Silence stretched while I tried to organize my thoughts into something resembling coherence.
The café needed me. Mom needed me. I had responsibilities, obligations, a carefully constructed life that didn’t include impromptu trips to amusement parks with men who’d disappeared for years.
But.
Ethan’s face when he’d talked about Alexander yesterday. That pure, uncomplicated joy.
My son deserved this. Deserved a father who wanted to spend time with him.
And the traitorous part of my heart whispered that maybe I wanted to see Alexander with Ethan. Wanted to watch them together, see if this sudden paternal interest was genuine or just guilt wearing a convincing mask.
“Madison? You still there?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Take your time.”
But time felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. The café could survive without me for a day. The statt was competent, and Mom could help if needed. And Ethan would be over the moon.
The practical voice in my head screamed about boundaries, responsibilities, and protecting my son from disappointment.
The other voice, quieter but persistent, reminded me that Ethan had already met Alexander. Already liked him Keeping them apart now would only confuse my son and raise questions I wasn’t ready to answer
“Alright.” The word came out before I could second–guess it into oblivion.
“Alright?” Alexander’s voice carried surprise. “You’re saying, yes?”
“I’m saying yes to the amusement park. For Ethan. Not for us.”
“Understood. What time works for you?”
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I gripped the phone tighter, my free hand braced against the hallway wall. Through the doorway, I could see Ethan’s small head bent over his pancakes, syrup already coating his fingers.
“Two hours,” I said.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up in two hours. Thank you for accepting.”
“I’m doing this for Ethan.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “And I appreciate it anyway.”
I ended the call and stood there for a moment, phone still in my hand, staring at nothing.
What had I just agreed to?
Hazel appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “Well?”
“We’re going to an amusement park.”
“With Alexander?”
“With Alexander.”
“Oh boy.” She grinned. “This should be interesting.”
I walked back into the kitchen, where Ethan was still demolishing his pancakes with the enthusiasm of someone who’d never encountered syrup before.
“Hey, baby. I have something to tell you.”
He looked up, syrup coating his chin. “What?”
“We’re going to an amusement park.”
Ethan’s fork clattered onto his plate. His eyes went wide. “AN AMUSEMENT PARK?”
“Yes, but you need to finish breakfast first, and then we’ll get ready.”
“Can I ride the roller coasters? The really big ones that go super fast?” His hands started moving, creating loop–de–loops in the air. “And the spinning rides? And the ones that go upside down?”
“You’re too small for most of those rides, sweetheart.”
“But I’m SUPER tall now! I can reach the napkins, remember?” He stood on his chair to demonstrate, nearly knocking over his milk in the process.
“Ethan, sit down.”
“Can we get cotton candy? The pink kind? And those giant lollipops?” He didn’t sit; instead, he bounced on the cushion. “And funnel cakes! Tony from school said they’re the best thing ever!”
Hazel laughed from across the kitchen. “Someone’s excited.”
“I’m SO excited!” Ethan jumped off his chair and started racing around the kitchen. “I’m gonna ride ALL, the rides! Even the scary ones! Well, maybe not the super scary ones. But the medium scary ones for sure!”
I caught him mid–lap, scooping him up despite his wiggling. “Slow down. You haven’t even finished breakfast.”
“I’m finished! Look!” He pointed at his half–eaten pancake. “All done!”
“That’s not all done. Sit back down and actually finish.”
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“But Mom!” The whine entered his voice. “We need to get ready!”
“First, you need to eat your breakfast, and then we can start getting ready for our big day out.”
Ethan wiggled free from my grasp and climbed back onto his chair. He grabbed his fork and started shoveling pancake into his mouth at record speed.
“Chew your food properly.”
He nodded enthusiastically, mouth too full to speak.
I watched my son vibrate with excitement as he planned his amusement park strategy between massive bites of pancake. The joy on his face was so pure, so uncomplicated.
And that’s when it hit me.
I was fooling myself about who this decision benefited.
Yes, Ethan would have fun. Yes, he deserved to spend time with his father. But part of me, a bigger part than I wanted to admit, wanted to see Alexander again. Wanted to watch him interact with Ethan in a real setting, not just brief encounters in cafés and parks.
Wanted to see if this sudden paternal interest was genuine or just guilt wearing an expensive suit.
“Mom?” Ethan’s voice pulled me back. “Can I wear my dinosaur shirt? The one with the T–Rex?”
“Sure, baby.”
“And my sneakers with the lights? The ones that blink when I jump?”
“Those are fine.”
“And can I bring Mr. Whiskers? In case I get scared on the rides?”
“Mr. Whiskers can come.”
Ethan finished his pancakes in record time, then raced toward the guest bedroom to find his stuffed cat.
Hazel moved closer, her voice low. “You okay?”
“I don’t know what I am.”
“You want to see him.” It wasn’t a question.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow. “You could have said no. Could have told Alexander to back oft. But you said yes. Why?”
“For Ethan.”
“Partially for Ethan,” Hazel corrected. “But also for you And that’s okay, Madison You’re allowed to have complicated feelings about the father of your child.”
“I don’t have feelings. I have confusion, anger, and exhaustion ”
“And curiosity. And maybe hope that he’s actually serious about being a father”
Chapte
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
