Chapter 103: He’s your papa
In the glowing kitchen, the scent of warm chocolate filled the air. Ethan, more used to signing billion-dollar checks, meticulously stirred milk in a dinosaur cup. His mind, however, remained trapped in the study, his heart still racing from the lingering heat of their encounter.
"I just hope Emily doesn't run away again!" Ethan muttered regretfully. He knew his actions earlier had been completely unpredictable, even for him.
Emily stepped inside slowly. She had tidied her hair into a makeshift bun, though no amount of powder could hide the deep flush on her cheeks. She saw Louei sitting in a high chair, his small legs swinging as he tightly hugged his teddy bear.
"Good Uncle," Louei called out, his voice small and raspy from sleepiness. "Why don't you sleep with Louei and Mommy? If you're here, the ghosts won't dare to come."
Emily froze, his innocent words piercing her heart like a blade. For five years, she had been both mother and protector, building walls to keep Louei safe from Ethan’s dangerous world. Yet, she had forgotten one thing a void in her son’s heart that only a father could fill.
Ethan turned off the stove. He turned around, holding the cup of milk, but his eyes were locked onto Emily. There was a glimmer of hope, a profound longing, and a patience that was nearly exhausted in the man's dark eyes. Ethan didn't push he stood there like a solid rock, waiting for Emily’s waves to finally anchor.
Emily swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry. She knew this moment would come, but she hadn't expected it to be this heavy. Acknowledging the existence of his father meant letting Ethan fully into their lives. It meant she was ready to surrender her life to the man who had just made her surrender on that office desk.
"Louei," Emily called out, her voice trembling. She stepped closer and knelt in front of her son’s high chair. She took Louei’s free hand in hers.
Louei looked at his mother with round eyes that looked remarkably like Ethan’s when he was being serious. "Yes, Mommy?"
Emily took a long breath; the oxygen felt heavy in her lungs. She glanced at Ethan for a split second. He remained silent, standing frozen by the kitchen counter, letting Emily take full control of the three of them’s fate tonight.
"Sweetheart ... there’s something Mommy has to tell you," Emily said, her voice barely a whisper that caught in her throat. "From now on ... can you do something for Mommy?"
"What, Mom?"
"Don't call him 'Good Uncle' anymore," Emily paused. Her heart beat so loudly it made her ears ring. Every word that came out felt like she was handing over the keys to her final fortress. "Call him ... Papa."
A sudden, heavy silence gripped the kitchen. Only the ticking of the wall clock could be heard, sounding like a gavel hitting a table.
Louei tilted his head, his small brow furrowed. He looked at Emily, then turned his gaze to Ethan, who was still standing there with bated breath. Ethan’s patience was being tested to its limit his hand holding the milk cup trembled slightly something rarely seen in a man as cold as him.
"Papa?" Louei repeated the word with a slight lisp. "Like the Papa in the storybooks?"
Emily nodded slowly, a single tear falling despite her efforts to hold it back. "Yes, sweetheart. Like in the storybooks. Because ... because he really is your papa."
Louei fell silent for a long time, processing this massive information in his little brain. "So ... Good Uncle is Louei's Papah? The one who went away to fight monsters all this time?"
Emily couldn't answer. She could only bow her head, her shoulders shaking as the emotional burden finally collapsed.
Suddenly, Louei scrambled down from his chair with agility. He ran toward Ethan. Ethan immediately set the milk cup on the counter and knelt just as his son reached him.
"Uncle ... is it true that Good Uncle is Louei’s Papah?" Louei touched Ethan’s muscular arm, making sure the figure was real. "Uncle, tell me is it true you’re Louei's papah?"
Ethan, a man known for being ruthless and heartless in the business world, felt his eyes sting. He gathered Louei’s small body into his arms, hugging him with a tenderness that could melt any iceberg. He buried his face in his son’s small neck, breathing in the scent of baby powder and milk.
"Yes, champ. I am your papah," Ethan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Papah has returned from fighting the monsters, and Papah is never going away again."
Ethan looked at Emily over Louei’s shoulder. His gaze was no longer about dominance or physical possession, but about an infinite sense of gratitude. Emily stood up slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, feeling as if a mountain had just been lifted off her chest.
"Yay, Louei has a Papah!" Louei cheered happily. "Papah, where is Louei's chocolate milk?" Louei asked suddenly, pulling back and pointing at the cup on the counter.
Ethan laughed with pure happiness. He picked Louei up with one arm, while his other arm wrapped around Emily’s waist possessively yet gently pulling her into his impenetrable circle of protection.
"Come on, champ. Let’s drink your milk, and then we’re all going to sleep in the big room together. No ghosts will dare come in there tonight," Ethan said firmly, his voice carrying the authority of a protector.
"Yeay! Louei is so happy!" the boy shouted, pumping his small fist in the air.
As they walked out of the kitchen, Emily leaned her head against Ethan’s broad chest, listening to his heart, which was beginning to settle into a steady rhythm. She knew her life would never be the same. Threats might still exist out there, Ethan’s enemies might still be lurking in the dark, but tonight, within these walls, she felt safe. Because now, Louei had a true protector, and she had the home she had been denying for so long.
The dim corridor lights added a warm touch to their steps toward the master bedroom. Ethan didn't loosen his hold on Emily for a second, as if letting go would cause this beautiful reality to evaporate like a dream.
After Louei eagerly finished his milk and drifted off in the center of the massive bed, the air turned intimate. He slept peacefully, clutching his teddy bear in one hand and the edge of Emily’s pajamas in the other.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, watching the scene before him with a look of pure bliss. His eyes, usually sharp and intimidating, were now misty. He turned toward Emily, who was tucking the blanket up to Louei’s chest.
"Emily?” Ethan whispered.
Emily looked up, startled by the vulnerability on the man’s face. Before she could react, Ethan reached for her hand, brought her fingers to his lips, and closed his eyes tightly.
"Thank you," Ethan whispered against the skin of Emily’s hand. "Thank you, Emily. My God, thank you for forgiving me."