Chapter 51 Moving Forward
Friday Morning
Elena woke to Leo sitting on her bed, already dressed in mismatched clothes.
"Mama, I put my pants on all by myself."
She blinked at him. "I can see that, baby."
"They're backwards."
"Mm-hmm."
"But I did it myself so that's what matters, right?"
She smiled, pulling him down for a hug. "Right. Come on, let's fix them."
In the kitchen, Leo ate his cereal while swinging his legs, humming a song she didn't recognize.
"Where did you learn that?"
"Made it up. It's about daddy dinosaurs."
Her chest squeezed at the word. He'd used it three times already this morning, testing it out.
"It's very creative."
"I know." He took another bite. "Mama, when am I going to real school?"
She paused, coffee cup halfway to her lips. "What?"
"Jamie goes to school. He has a backpack with his name on it. And he learns letters."
"You know letters."
"But not at SCHOOL." He said it like it was the most important distinction in the world.
Elena set down her cup, studying him.
He was getting bigger. Longer legs, clearer speech. Three years old now.
When had that happened?
"Would you want to go to school?"
His eyes lit up. "Can I?"
"Maybe. We'd have to find the right one."
"With dinosaurs?"
"I don't think they have dinosaur schools, baby."
"Then what's the POINT?"
She laughed. "You'd still learn things. Make friends. Play."
"And come home after?"
"Yes. You'd come home every day."
He considered this seriously. "Okay. I want to try it."
"Okay."
"Can I start today?"
"Not today. We have to find a school first. Talk to the teachers."
"Can we do that today?"
"We'll see."
He seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to his cereal.
Elena pulled out her phone, opening a search for preschools nearby.
The prices made her stomach drop.
Two hundred a week. Three hundred. Some wanted registration fees, supply fees, lunch fees.
She closed the browser.
She'd figure it out.
At Mrs. Chen's building, Leo ran ahead.
Elena followed more slowly, carrying his overnight bag—just in case she had to work late.
Mrs. Chen opened the door before they knocked.
"There's my favorite early bird."
"Mrs. Chen, guess what! I'm going to SCHOOL!"
She raised her eyebrows at Elena.
"We were talking about it this morning," Elena explained. "He's asking."
"Well, you are getting to be a big boy." Mrs. Chen ushered them inside. "Most children start preschool around three."
"See, Mama? Most children!"
"I heard." Elena set down his bag. "I was actually going to ask—do you know any good programs nearby? That are... affordable?"
Mrs. Chen's expression softened. "There's a community center three blocks over. They run a part-time preschool. Very reasonable."
"How reasonable?"
"Sixty dollars a week. Three mornings."
Elena's shoulders relaxed slightly. "That's doable."
"My neighbor's grandson goes there. She says the teachers are wonderful." Mrs. Chen moved to her kitchen, writing something down. "Here. The director's name is Susan Palmer. Tell her I sent you."
"Thank you."
"Of course." Mrs. Chen crouched down to Leo's level. "And you, young man. School means listening to teachers and being kind to other children."
"I'm VERY kind."
"I know you are. But sometimes sharing toys is hard."
"Not for me. I'm basically a sharing expert."
Mrs. Chen smiled. "Good to know."
Elena kissed Leo goodbye, reminding him to behave, and headed for the bus stop.
On the ride to work, she looked up the community center on her phone.
The building was old but well-maintained. The reviews mentioned caring teachers, small class sizes, lots of outdoor play.
It could work.
She bookmarked the page.
One more thing to figure out. Add it to the list.
At least this one felt manageable.
The office was already busy when Elena arrived.
Jenna was at her desk, typing furiously while on a phone call.
"—no, I understand, but Ms. Thorne specifically requested the revised terms by nine, so unless you can time travel, I suggest you send what you have." She paused. "Great. Thank you."
She hung up, blowing hair out of her face.
"Morning."
"Rough start?" Elena asked, setting down her bag.
"The Singapore deal is making everyone crazy. Legal sent the wrong draft last night, so now we're scrambling." She pulled up her email. "Victoria wants the correct version before her nine-thirty call."
"I'll pull it."
"You're a saint."
Elena logged into her computer, navigating to the shared drive.
The morning settled into its rhythm.
Emails answered. Calls forwarded. Documents prepared.
At nine, Victoria emerged from her office.
"Elena, the Singapore file?"
"On your desk. Hard copy and digital."
"The updated terms sheet?"
"Attached to the email I sent at eight-forty."
Victoria nodded, already moving. "Conference room B at nine-thirty. I'll need you there."
"Of course."
She disappeared back inside.
Jenna leaned over. "Does she ever say thank you?"
"Sometimes. In her own way."
"Which is what? A curt nod?"
"Pretty much."
They both smiled.
At nine-thirty, Elena gathered her tablet and headed to the conference room.
The Singapore team was already on video—four faces in neat boxes on the screen.
Victoria sat at the head of the table, composed and sharp.
"Good morning. Let's begin."
For the next hour, Elena took notes while Victoria negotiated.
It was impressive, watching her work. The way she anticipated arguments, countered objections, never raised her voice but somehow commanded complete attention.
This was Victoria in her element.
Not the woman who'd offered Elena money to disappear.
Just a skilled executive doing her job.
"Elena, pull up section four, paragraph three."
Elena navigated to it, displayed it on screen.
"As you can see, the liability clause is standard for acquisitions of this size—"
The meeting continued.
Smooth. Professional. Normal.
When it ended, the Singapore team seemed satisfied.
Victoria closed her laptop. "Good work."
Elena blinked. "Thank you."
"The notes—have them on my desk within the hour."
"Yes, ma'am."
Victoria left without another word.
Elena returned to her desk, formatted the meeting notes, and tried to lose herself in work.
At noon, Jenna stood and stretched.
"I'm getting a sandwich from that place on Fifth. Want anything?"
"No, thanks. I brought lunch."
"Suit yourself."
After Jenna left, Elena grabbed her brown bag from the small office fridge and headed downstairs.
The weather was mild for. She walked two blocks to a small park with benches, finding a good spot under a tree.
She unwrapped her sandwich—peanut butter and jelly, the same thing she'd packed for Leo—and pulled out her phone.
She took a bite of sandwich, scrolling through her email.
"Elena."
She jumped, nearly dropping her phone.
Alexander stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking uncertain.
"What are you—" She glanced around quickly.
The park was mostly empty. A few people on other benches, nobody from the office that she could see.
Still.
She stood, grabbing his arm and tugging him behind the tree, away from the street view.
"Someone could see us."
"I was careful."
"Not careful enough. You can't just—" She stopped, realizing she was still holding his arm.
She let go.
"Did you follow me?"
"I saw you leave. Thought maybe we could have lunch together." He paused. "Like we used to."
Her chest ached at the reminder.
Coffee notes. Conference room lunches. Stolen moments between meetings.
That felt like a lifetime ago.
"Alexander—"
"I know. I know things are complicated. But I miss you." He said it simply. Honestly. "Miss talking to you. Being near you."
"We work in the same building."
"It's not the same. You won't even look at me."
"Because people will notice—"
"Let them notice."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one they'll whisper about."
He flinched. "You're right. I'm sorry."
Silence settled between them.
Elena sat back down on the bench. After a moment, Alexander joined her, keeping a careful distance.
"I brought an extra sandwich," she said quietly. "If you want half."
A smile tugged at his lips. "What kind?"
"PB&J."
"Gourmet."
"Only the finest."
She handed him half. They ate in comfortable quiet, watching people pass on the sidewalk.
"Leo asked about preschool this morning," Elena said eventually.
"Yeah? What did you tell him?"
"That we'd look into it. Mrs. Chen recommended a community center nearby."
"I could help—"
"I've got it."
"Elena—"
"I've been handling this by myself for three years. I can handle preschool."
"I know you can. But you don't have to anymore."
She didn't respond to that.
Alexander finished his sandwich. "He's really calling me Daddy now."
"All morning. I think he said it ten times before breakfast."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Terrified."
"Yeah. Me too." He leaned back against the bench. "But also... it's the best thing anyone's ever called me."
Despite everything, Elena smiled.
They sat quietly for a few more minutes.
Then Alexander checked his watch. "I should get back. Meeting at one."
"Me too. Victoria needs the quarterly reports formatted."
They stood.
Elena gathered her lunch bag, very aware of how close he was standing.
"Thank you," he said. "For this. For letting me—"
"It's just lunch, Alexander."
"I know. But still." His hand found hers briefly, squeezed. "I'll see you later?"
"Maybe. If Leo's not too tired."
He nodded, let go of her hand.
They walked back separately—Elena first, Alexander waiting a few minutes before following.
At her desk, Jenna was already back, eating her sandwich while typing.
"That was fast."
"Wasn't very hungry."
"You okay? You look flushed."
"Just warm. The walk back."
Jenna shrugged, returning to her work.
Elena pulled up the quarterly reports, trying to focus.
But her hand still felt warm where Alexander had held it.
And despite all her fear, all her certainty that this would end badly—
Part of her wanted to believe him.
Wanted to believe they could make this work.
That Sunday dinner wouldn't be a disaster.
That his family would surprise her.
That love really could be enough.
Even though she knew better.
Even though history had taught her that families like the Thornes didn't change.
She wanted to believe anyway.
And that hope—small and fragile and probably foolish—
Scared her more than anything else.
Because hope meant there was something to lose.
And she'd already lost too much.
But for Alexander, who'd followed her to a park just to share a sandwich?
For Leo, who'd called him Daddy with such pure joy?
Maybe—just maybe—
She could risk it one more time.