Chapter 5: Ethan’s Walls

I took a deep breath. The crisp air from the open window steadied me, but my worry for my children only grew, gnawing at me from the inside out.

Who knew how Rachel really raised them? I pictured bedtime stories and scraped knees, wondered if she’d know the difference between Ethan’s peanut allergy and a summer rash.

I called Holly over. "Could you ask the tutor to bring Ethan here?"

I waited in the sunroom. Afternoon light spilled through lace curtains, painting the old rug with gold. This had been my favorite room—still warm, even now.

Fifteen minutes later, Ethan shuffled in, glancing up at me with wary eyes.

He wore a bowl cut, cheeks still round with baby fat, but I saw traces of Michael in his face. There was a flicker of my smile in the way his lips twitched when he was unsure.

But he looked anything but happy. His hands fidgeted with his shirt hem, eyes averted.

Holly nudged him. "Ethan, this is your mom."

He ducked his head and mumbled, "Mom." The word felt strange, like it didn’t belong to either of us.

I studied him, tears stinging my eyes. The years I’d missed hit me all at once.

He’d been a baby in a crib when I left. Now he was so tall. Time had marched on without me.

I reached out, hands trembling, and tried to touch his cheek. He flinched away. The rejection burned, but I kept my face calm.

I pulled my hand back, not letting it show. "How do your dad and Rachel treat you?" I tried to sound neutral, searching for reassurance.

He said, "Dad’s always working. But Rachel’s great. She remembers what I like, makes dinner, and even picked out my tutor."

Rachel’s name lit him up. He sounded almost happy.

My heart ached. I tried to smile, glad he was cared for, but grieving what I’d lost.

At least Rachel hadn’t hurt him. That was something.

I managed a smile for his sake, even though it felt heavy.

He looked at me. "But Mom, why’d you come back?"

My smile faltered. I blinked, searching for words.

He barreled on, "What about Rachel? What happens to her now?"

I pushed my feelings aside. "She’s your dad’s wife. That doesn’t change."

He pressed, "And you?"

"I’ve remarried, but I missed you and Emily. I came to ask you—"

He cut me off, eyes wide. "Remarried?"

I nodded.

His face twisted in anger. "You disappeared for years—who would even marry you? And if they did, how could they want me as their stepson?"

Michael was right. Ethan didn’t know me anymore. The mom he remembered was just a bedtime story.

I watched him, searching for a trace of my boy, but he looked away.

"Who taught you to talk like that?" My voice was low.

He clammed up, lips pressed tight.

I already knew the answer. My heart sank.

"Now that I’m back, it’s time to change your tutor."

Ethan frowned, confused and upset.

"You remarried. Why do you care about the Miller family?"

I saw how far apart we’d grown. The wall between us was higher than ever.

Still, I took off the silver locket from my neck—the one I’d meant to give him for graduation—and pressed it into his hand.

"If you ever regret this, come find me. As your mom, I’ll help you once. But only if you’re honest."

Ethan hesitated, then tucked the locket into his pocket. He didn’t look at me, but he didn’t give it back either.