Alexander
I arrived ten minutes early. The bistro was charming in that understated way that meant expensive without being flashy. White tablecloths, fresh flowers, and large windows letting in natural light.
The hostess greeted me with a professional smile. “Good afternoon. Do you have a reservation?”
“Alexander Knight. Table for two at noon.”
“Right this way.”
She led me to a corner table with a view of the street. I settled into my chair, declining the wine list but accepting
water.
The door chimed.
Madison walked in, and every thought in my head scattered.
She wore a cream–colored dress that hit just above her knees, simple but elegant. Her hair was down, falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Minimal makeup, just enough to highlight her eyes. She looked exactly like the Madison I remembered and nothing like her at all.
She spotted me, and something flickered across her face before she smoothed it into neutrality.
I stood as she approached.
“Hi.” Her voice was quiet.
“Hi.” I moved to pull out her chair. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She sat, accepting the gesture with grace. “You look good too.”
The waitress appeared before I could respond, handing us menus and rattling off specials. Madison studied hers while I studied her.
“The salmon’s good here,” she said without looking up.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She set down her menu. Our eyes met across the table.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
A beat of silence.
“How’s the hotel?” Madison asked.
“Fine. Clean. Boring.” I leaned back. “How’s the café?”
“Busy. Always busy.”
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More silence. This was excruciating
The waitress returned. Madison ordered the salmon she’d recommended, I ordered the same, figuring iwas going to be distracted, at least the food should be decent.
“Wine?” the waitress asked.
“Just water,” Madison said quickly.
“Same.”
The waitress left. We were alone again.
“Your mom looked well,” I said, “When I saw her at the café.”
Madison’s expression softened, “She is. Much better than a few years ago. The treatments worked.”
“That’s good. Really good.”
“Yeah.”
I reached for my water glass just as she reached for hers. Our fingers didn’t touch, but the movement was synchronized in a way that felt significant.
The waitress appeared with our salmon, setting the plates down with practiced efficiency. “Anything else I can get you?”
“We’re fine,” Madison said quickly.
I waited until the waitress left. Madison picked up her fork, studying her plate like it held the secrets of the
universe.
“You’re not eating,” I observed.
“I’m about to.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. The food was good, she was right about that, but I barely tasted it. Too focused on the woman across from me, the way she kept her eyes on her plate, the tension in her shoulders.
“About the gift,” Madison said suddenly.
I set down my fork. “What about it?”
“What is it?”
“A surprise.” I leaned back. “For Ethan. Not for negotiation.”
Her jaw tightened. “I need to know what you’re giving my son.”
“Our son,” I corrected. “And it’s age appropriate. Safe. Something he’ll enjoy.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the answer you’re getting.” I met her eyes. “Unless you want me to return it.”
Chapter 406
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She opened her mouth, then closed it. Exhaled slowly. “No. Don’t return it.”
“So I can give it to him?”
“I didn’t say that either.” She set down her fork.
“I want to meet him properly. Introduce myself. Not as some customer at a café, but as his father.”
Madison’s hands clenched on the table. “You can’t just drop that on a small kid.”
“Then help me. Tell me how to do this right.” I leaned forward. “I’m not trying to disrupt his life. I want to be part of it. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” She pushed her plate away. “You showing up is already disrupting everything.” 1
“Would you prefer I leave? Went back to New York and forgot I have a son?”
“Sometimes I think that would be easier.” The words came out soft, almost inaudible.
The admission hit harder than expected.
“But it wouldn’t be right,” Madison continued, her voice steadier now. “Ethan deserves to know his father.”
I picked up my water glass. “So what do we do? How do we make this work?”
Madison stared out the window, watching people pass by on the street. A mother pushed a stroller. An elderly couple held hands. Normal people living normal lives.
“I’ll introduce you,” she said finally. “Properly. As his father.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. “When?”
“Soon. I need to prepare him first. Explain things in a way that won’t traumatize him.”
“Traumatize is a strong word.”
“Is it?” Madison’s voice cut sharp. “He’s a small kid and hasn’t met his father. Suddenly, some stranger shows up claiming to be Daddy? That’s textbook traumatic.”
“I’m not some stranger.”
“To him you are.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “You’re just the guy who bought coffee and hugged him like it meant something.”
The accusation stung because it was true. That hug had meant everything. Feeling Ethan’s small body against mine, his easy trust, the way he’d melted into the embrace without hesitation. It had cracked something open inside me I didn’t know existed.
“So tell me how to do this right,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Tell me how to be his father without traumatizing him.”
Madison studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know if there’s a right way. But rushing it definitely isn’t it.”
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“I’ve already missed five years. Every day I wait is another day lost.”
“And whose fault is that?”
The words landed like a punch.
“Mine,” I admitted. “You’re right. I should have fought harder to keep you. Should have contacted you after you left. Should have done a lot of things differently.”
Madison’s eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t expected the admission.
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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.
