Aria POV
The last place I wanted to be on a Thursday morning was Sunshine Preschool’s Mother and Child Day.
I adjusted my sunglasses and checked my watch. Olivia had insisted I attend. “Noah deserves this, she’d said over coffee yesterday. “Every other kid will have their mom
there
She was right. I hated that she was right.
1 pushed through the gate into the playground. Colorful banners hung between trees. Tables covered in finger paintings and craft supplies lined the fence. Mothers clustered in groups, chatting and laughing while their children ran wild.
I didn’t belong here. These women discussed playdates and organic snacks. I discussed hostile takeovers and quarterly earnings.
“Mama!” Noah’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I turned. He ran toward me, his curls bouncing with each step. Paint streaked across his cheek. His shirt was already dirty.
Perfect.
“Hey, baby.” I knelt down and caught him in a hug. “Having fun?”
“So much fun!” He grabbed my hand and pulled. “Come see what I made!”
I let him drag me toward the craft tables. Other mothers smiled politely. I smiled back but in reality none of us meant it.
Noah showed me his artwork. A house with four stick figures. “That’s you, me, and” He pointed to the other two figures.
“Who are they?” I asked carefully.
“That’s Auntie Liv” He tapped one figure. Then hesitated on the last one. “And that’s… nobody. Yet.”
My chest tightened. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart?
“Ms. Monroe?” A teacher appeared beside us. She was Young and enthusiastic. “So glad
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you could make it! Noah talks about you constantly.”
“Does he?” I straightened up.
“Oh yes.” She beamed. “He’s very proud of his mama. Says you’re a superhero.”
Noah tugged my hand. “Because you are, Mama. You save companies.”
The teacher laughed as I managed a smile.
“Well, enjoy the activities.” The teacher moved to the next parent. “We have relay races starting in fifteen minutes!”
Noah dragged me toward the playground equipment. Other children played on swings and slides. Mothers supervised from benches, phones in hand.
I was checking my own phone when I felt it.
That presence. The one that made the air shift and my spine straighten.
I looked up slowly.
Damien Blackwood stood near the gate. Thirty feet away he was wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. Our eyes met across the playground.
My heart stopped.
What the hell was he doing here?
He started walking. Straight toward me. His gaze moved from my face to Noah, who was climbing the jungle gym.
No. No, no, no.
I moved quickly putting myself between Damien and my son. “Noah, come here.”
“But Mama” He hung from a bar.
“Now, Noah.” My voice came out sharper than intended.
He dropped to the ground and walked over. His face fell. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, baby.” I touched his hair. “I just”
“Aria.” Damien’s voice called out.
I turned. He stood three feet away. Close enough that I could see the shadows under his eyes. The tension in his jaw.
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“What are you doing here?” I kept my voice low.
“My nephew attends this school.” He gestured vaguely toward the playground. “His mother invited me to the event.”
Of course. Because the universe hated me.
Noah peeked around my legs. Those ice–blue eyes studied Damien with open curiosity.
Damien stared back. I watched the exact moment recognition hit him. The way his breath caught. The way his hands flexed at his sides.
He saw himself in Noah’s face. Anyone would.
“Hi,” Noah said. He stepped out from behind me. “I’m Noah.”
“Noah.” Damien’s voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat. “That’s a strong name.”
“Mama picked it.” Noah smiled up at him. “What’s your name?”
“I’m” Damien glanced at me. “I’m Damien.”
“That’s a strong name too.” Noah tilted his head. “Are you someone’s daddy?”
The question hit Damien. His eyes closed briefly. “No. Not yet.”
“Oh.” Noah considered this. “Maybe someday.”
“Maybe.” Damien knelt down to Noah’s level. “Do you like it here? At school?”
“Uh–huh!” Noah launched into an enthusiastic description of his day. The paintings. The snacks. His best friend who could do a backflip.
I watched Damien listen. Really listen. The way he focused entirely on Noah. The soft expression on his face. The careful way he nodded and responded.
This wasn’t the cold CEO I remembered. This was someone else entirely.
“Noah has your eyes,” Damien said quietly, looking up at me.
My hand moved to Noah’s shoulder. “We need to go.”
“Aria, please”
“Goodbye, Damien.” I guided Noah toward the parking lot.
“But Mama, the relay races” Noah protested.
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“We’ll come back another day.” I kept walking.
“Aria, wait.” Damien followed. “Please. Just five minutes.”
“No.” I didn’t look back.
“He’s my son.” His voice carried across the playground.
Several mothers turned to look. I felt their eyes on us.
I spun around. Walked back to Damien and spoke through clenched teeth. “Don’t. Not
here.”
“Then where?” His desperation was clear. “You won’t answer my calls. You have security throw me out of your building. What am I supposed to do?”
“Accept that you made your choice three years ago.” I stepped closer. “You don’t get to change your mind now just because it’s convenient.”
“Convenient?” He almost laughed. “You think any of this is convenient? I haven’t slept in weeks. I can’t eat. I can’t focus. All I think about is” He stopped looking at Noah then lowered his voice. “Please. I’m begging you. Let me explain.”
“Mama?” Noah tugged my sleeve. “Why is he sad?”
I looked down at my son. His concerned little face. He was too young to understand adult pain. Too innocent.
I wanted to keep him that way.
“He’s fine, baby.” I picked Noah up. “Say goodbye.”
“Bye, Damien!” Noah waved over my shoulder. “Maybe I’ll see you at school again!”
“I hope so,” Damien called back.
I carried Noah to the parking lot. Set him in his car seat. My hands shook as I buckled
him in.
“Mama, you’re shaking.” Noah touched my hand.
“I’m okay.” I kissed his forehead. “Just cold.”
It was seventy degrees outside.
I closed his door and walked around to the driver’s side.
Damien stood beside my car.
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“Move.” I reached for the door handle.
He didn’t budge. “That boy… Aria, please. I know he’s my son.”
“So what?” I crossed my arms. “What do you want? A medal for figuring it out?”
“I want” He ran a hand through his hair. “I want to be his father.”
“No.” The word came out cold and final.
“Aria”
“You gave up that right.” I stepped closer. “When you told me to get rid of him, when you never even cared to offer me the bare minimum called child support so fuck off”
“I know.” His eyes were red. “I know what I did. I know I don’t deserve”
“You’re right, because honestly you don’t.” I opened my car door. “Now move.”
He stepped aside.
I got in. Started the engine. I looked in the rearview mirror.Damien stood in the parking lot. Hands in his pockets. Head down. Looking more broken than I’d ever seen
him.
For a split second, I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
I drove away. In the backseat, Noah hummed to himself.
“Mama?” His voice was small. “Did you know that man?”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Why do you ask?”
“He looked at you like Daddy looks at Mommy in my storybook.” Noah swung his feet. “Like you’re really, really important.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror. Saw Damien still standing there, watching us go.
“He’s nobody, baby.” The lie tasted bitter. “Nobody important at all.”
But as I turned onto the main road, I couldn’t shake the image of his face.
The regret. The longing. The desperate hope.
For three years, I’d imagined this moment. Dreamed of him discovering the truth and drowning in guilt.
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Now that it was happening, I felt nothing but hollow.
Because no amount of his suffering would give me back those years.
No amount of apologies would erase his words in that office.
And no amount of regret would make me trust him with my son’s heart.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
I saw you
leave. I understand. But please, Aria. Give me one chance to explain everything. For Noah’s sake. For yours. For the family we could have been.
I deleted it.
Then blocked the number.
3
Then pulled over because my hands were shaking too hard to drive.
“Mama?” Noah’s worried voice came from the backseat.
“I’m fine, baby.” I wiped my eyes. “Mama’s just fine.”
But I wasn’t.
Because seeing Damien with Noah–seeing that instant connection, that undeniable bond–terrified me.
What if Noah wanted to know his father? What if I couldn’t protect him from the Blackwood world? What if Damien actually had changed?
What if I was denying my son something he deserved out of my own pain?
I looked at Noah in the rearview mirror. He watched me with those ice–blue eyes. Damien’s eyes.
“Mama, are you crying?” He unbuckled his car seat and climbed into the front. Wrapped his small arms around my neck.
“Just a little.” I held him tight. “Sometimes grown–ups cry.”
“It’s okay.” He patted my back the way I’d always patted his. “I love you, Mama. More
than the whole world.”
“I love you too, baby.” I kissed the top of his head. “More than anything”
And that was the problem.
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I loved him so much that I’d built walls around us. Walls so high that nothing could
hurt him.
But maybe those walls were keeping out more than just pain.
Maybe they were keeping out possibilities too.
I pushed the thought away. Buckled Noah back into his seat. Drove home with my mind racing.
Later that night, after Noah was asleep, I poured a glass of wine and stood at my apartment window.
Somewhere out there, Damien Blackwood was awake too. Probably in his penthouse.
Probably staring at the same city lights.
Thinking about the son he’d just met.
The son he’d rejected before birth.
The son who might forgive him someday–even if I never could.
My phone buzzed again.
One conversation. That’s all I’m asking. Not for me. For him. He deserves to know the truth about everything. —D
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I typed back: Fine. One conversation. My office. Tomorrow. 2 PM. Say what you need to say. Then leave us alone.
His response came immediately: Thank you. I’ll be there.
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